World Film Festival Bkk - Jacques Doillon

The honourary director at the The Nation's World Film Fest this year is Jacques Doillon. There was a little workshop at the Alliance Francaise last week, with a little discussion between him, some students and Professor Gerard Fouquet. Jacques was funny, totally passionate and extremely natural, of course he was intense in a way but his message to the film students present was pretty clear, just do it, even with a little money, it is all possible and there is no need to descend to the realm of advertising as no good will come of it, really, not in the end, and all must save and support independent film. I especially enjoyed his imitations of the little girl Victoire who played Ponette in his film of the same name during the panel discussion.

I tagged along with Lee to the French ambassador's residence for the reception for Jacques, it was lovely, especially with the cool breeze that one only experiences this time of the year. There was a wedding next door at The Oriental, a rather big wedding as there were fireworks, it was rather grand, and a wonderful coincidence that there should be a light show perhaps for Monsier Doillon at the French Ambassador's Residence. I would've liked to think so anyway.

The first film I saw of Jacques' was couple days after the reception, on Saturday, called Mariage a Trois - a film with Pascal Gregory, Julie Depardieu, Louis Carrel and this red head who was rather gorgeous with a porcelain-like face and body reminiscent of a muse in Boticelli's paintings (less voluptuous though). Sure there was a lot of talking but it was funny, ironic and at points utterly absurd, in the way that they took each other so seriously, you could almost see the characters caricatures of themselves and Jacques having fun with it. . . indulgent in parts but not in the way that it went on and on as there was always action and movement, I felt that he reflected well the utterly narcissistic, neurotic nature of all those in the film . . . a screenplay writer, actors, an intern (the redhead muse upstairs) and a producer. A cute, little satire that left me thinking - whooa . .they are crazy, but kinda sweet. It was produced by Paulo Branco (the Portugese producer who is Andre's hero), I did not know who he was last summer when Andre invited me to dinner with him, so to see his name in the credits, and also Gregory Bernard's who is also OLT's partner, the funniest guy ever - I was pleasantly surprised at the smallness of the world. The film also left me feeling rather warm and fuzzy.

I saw Ponette the day after, one of Jacques earlier films. It was really sweet, the story of a 4 year old girl Ponette dealing with the sudden loss of her mother.

She was really brilliant, the little girl and how Jacques managed to film these children and their little world, the way they spoke and how they dealt with each other. I particularly loved one scene with the little girls discussing the marital status of their parents, such precocious little things trying to figure out what "celibataire" meant. I wonder why films like this are not made any more . . . maybe because they are not so tortured and it is a bit old-fashioned, I mean, it was a simple movie about a little girl and what she was going through, though really, the concepts of life, death, god, letting go, pain/love it was all there, albeit with little children. There was a passage discussing religion and certain stereotypes thereof, I thought that if that came out of an adult one would be pretty shocked at how risque it was, but not from kids, then it's funny. So maybe presenting loss and looking at the complexity of ordeals and issues through the eyes of a child gives the film not only life but a refreshing prespective on life, loss and love. The last line, "Maman, elle m'a dit appredre d'etre contente" (Mum, she said learn to be happy) says it all really, the perfect words to the perpetually brooding child. The film gives one hope that, no matter what, it is possible to be happy after a dreadful loss and that the world is not a sphere for perpetual brooding. Thank goodness for that. See you in Paris Jacques!

Oh Coco

Lynn and I went to perfume school for a few hours to learn how to make Chanel No. 5 at the Institute of Perfumerie in Grasse, where all the amazing perfumes are made. It is the source.

Chanel No.5 is unique, Coco Chanel wanted to make a real perfume for women, a modern perfume, not just a simmple floral bouquet but something which would capture the spirit of modernity, something to reflect her love of the modern woman, of straight lines, of form, of freedom of Corbusier, Mondrian and her contemporaries. The nose,Ernest Beaux was hired and he stayed for a long time and in 1921 No. 5 was created. The story of No 5 is that he might have made a mistake and put too much fo the synthetic scent Aldehyde which at the time as controversial, but this is unlikely and rather it was intentional, to give it an edge, to be modern.

It's composition is complex, perfume, like a movie or a good essay is in 3 parts, there are three acts if you like. The first is that first impression the top note which in this case is sparkling. The body which is abudant with jasmine and rose de mai, a precious expensive rose. Coco said, if it is expensive, I want more of it, I want the most exquisite perfume ever. . .then the last base note, what is left on your clothes and silk scarf after days, that deep musky scent that often reminds you of certain memories - the base here is sandalwood.

We made our own scents based on No. 5, I knew that I like sandalwood, rose and jasmine . . .a las after an hour our own Eau de Parfums were made . . .Chomchom Eau de Parfum, it is what I use now, instead of NO. 5 ;) Making a perfume is not an easy task as a little drop changes it all. An art, a science, call it whatever but probably a complete and utter neccisty after all. The basenote is supposed to last, almost forever, that smell that is left lingering on your clothes that brings back memories even when those memories are buried somewhere too deep to fish out and they come back when triggered by scent, even if you try to refuse - souvenirs of past loves. Thanks Madame.

A Spa Called Evian

We wholly endorse the whole retox detox then retox regime, obviously Grey Goose does too because after a couple days of indulgence they shipped us to Geneva by train to transfer to Evian-les-Bains (yes, the Evian of the water).

we had a suite, it was cool . . .we watched the sun set over Lake Geneva and then we watched the World Cup.

The next day I had a little swim and then off we went to Montreux to La Clinique La Prairie, reputed to be one of the best spas in the world and home of La Prairie. One could say, Rehab but a very nice version of it. It was glorious, I felt like a new born baby . . though I must admit that having a firm massage while being rubbed down with grains, having crystals ground into my face after having impurities taken away, then being put in a tomb which enveloped me in steam then sprayed me with water were completely new experiences . . .

A little La Prairie toy/demo

Lunch of spa food was a nice little break from big chefs' creations, I loved my carrot juice soup (volupte). The afternoon session was reserved for our bodies . . . a massage to be specific. I had an Ayurvedic one . . .it was divine. My masseuse lived in India for a long time, fixed my problems and attempted to diagnose my woes, his conclusion being that I needed to let things go . . . to open up. It was like a massage version of open heart yoga . . . it was amazing. Life-changing almost and definitely needed as we had barely time to recover from jetlag. It felt strange to get back into my little green t-ra dress after spending the whole day in a robe!

The town of Montreux is very cute, home to the MontreuxJazz Festival. In fact the jazz festival was going on but our schedule did allow for us to stay which was a bit of bummer as I know one of Lynn's favourite acts were due to play. Next time.

The drive back to Evian, was incredible . . . the sky was totally open and the crevasses between the mountains rather unique with Lake Geneva on the other side, we were in a Switzerland en route back to Evian in France, a pocket of Frenchness in a Swiss empire.

We then found the only Thai restaurant in Evian then went to collect Evian water, FOR FREE . . .it is not a scam, Evian is a spa town and like all spa towns, it is La Source and its water is avaialbe for all from its public fountains. Evian is such a big deal there is even an Evian Museum and just about every step of the way there is that familiar little pastel pink/blue logo. . .

La Source of Evian is a beautiful fountain up a hill where the mineral water flows to. It reminded me of where Lynn and I went to school in Malvern where there is also Malvern water. The notion of free Evian water is awesome, a mega treat. The past glory of Evian came to life as we strolled around and filled our vessels. Wish we had time to visit the Water Exhibition at the Palais de Lumiere . . . this is the old palace which belonged to the Lumiere brothers, two of the earliest filmmakers in history. . .who's name appropriately means light. Water and light - how fitting.

Silver Hawk over Blue

Lynn and I absolutely ADORED our 45 minute ride from St Tropez to Cannes in a heli, the view was sublime and I really loved how the nautical stripes of my Issue playsuit really seemed to compliment the little sail boats you see below - can totally understand the obsession for white and blue in the Mediterranean after our little ride.

love love love. Defo another one of my fave moments from the Grey Goose Discerning France trip . . . I always get carsick in a car to and from St Tropez anyway, this solves all problems . . . landed in Cannes ready for our little boat trip.

Helipad was just next door to our hotel, the Majestic, how SWEET would it have been if this was during the Cannes Film Festival in May, we might have been able to rejoice in the atmo after P'Joei won his Palme d'Or if that were case.

Nonetheless, oh helicopter and riviera how we heart thee - especially when you are together.