Venice is artistic & commercial, hedonistic & frugal, and above all covenient. Elisabeth Sereda explains why the Venezia Film Fest is her favorite festival:
Unless you get seasick on a vaporetto, hate Italian food and despise old buildings, you have to agree that there is no better place to put on a festival. It starts with the landing at the Marco Polo Airport. Pushing the luggage down a walkway and taking a boat to your final destination, through the island of Murano with the ancient city to your right. What an arrival!
I’ve been coming to Venice for 20 years. Film selection wise there are better years and not so good years but the environment is always the same. The mostra, as the locals call the festival, takes place within half a kilometer of the Lungomare on the Lido: from the Excelsior Hotel to the south to the Casino that houses the press center to the north. And the Palazzo del Cinema in between, flanked by the Sala Darsena (formerly Palagalileo) and another screening venue, the Palabiennale, one block to the left. And yes there has been a big hole next to the press center for the past five years: it was supposed to be the site of the new Palazzo del Cinema until they discovered asbestos while digging. Why there are tarps thrown over the hole instead of simply closing it, is a mystery that probably only some local politician can explain but hey, that’s Italy.
There are small hotels and apartments for rent within walking distance or at the most a few bus stops away. I prefer to rent a bicycle and get around even faster. There’s an abundance of restaurants, bars, grocery stores and shops, and the little osteria where you spend 20.- euros on a three course meal is better than the bad hors d’oeuvres at the Excelsior for 40.-
An espresso is called ‘un cafe’ and the best one is had at the little street stand on the corner of Via Sandro Gallo and Via Morosini, just before or after a screening at the Palabiennale – for 1.- euro. The screenings are – a miracle for Italy – really well organized and not getting in happens maybe one in a million. The general press conferences are often a comedy show, granted, but usually only when huge stars descend on the Lido. Junkets and interviews are held in venues close by, such as the terrace opposite the Palazzo del Cinema that is taken over by a sponsor. Speaking of sponsors: Venice unlike Cannes is NOT a business festival, neither for the film industry nor for unrelated companies. So the sponsoring and wheeling and dealing is kept to a minimum. So is the accompanying riff raff. There are no in-your-face hookers hanging around and although the euro trash exists, they don’t take over. There are fans, real fans, that line up behind the red carpet and cheer on their favorites, ask for autographs at the Casino- and Excelsior docks and are grateful for little glimpses of their favorite stars. Speaking of the red carpet: ever compared a red carpet photo from Cannes, Berlin or Toronto to Venice? There is one glaring difference. The carpet in Venice is never crowded, allowing for much better pictures.
One thing I miss is the Hotel Des Baines, the site of Thomas Mann’s Death in Venice: I liked it as a great interview location and remember many a night on the terrace, sipping scroppino (or sorbetto as the Venetians call the well-blended mix of lemon ice cream with vodka and prosecco), listening to Ang Lee, having heated discussions with Alfonso Cuaron and watching Vincent Gallo hanging out with Chloe Sevigny. Vincent Gallo who also loves to frequent a dive bar on the Via Sandro Gallo, turning ‘gallo’ (Italian for cock, the animal not the anatomical part)-jokes into a running gag for years. The Des Baines had been in desperate need of renovation and is supposedly being turned into an upscale apartment building.
The great infrastructure and the location of the Lido – an island devoid of the masses of sweating tourists that clog up the narrow streets of the main city – allow for another luxury: even when you rush from screening to screening to interview to screening, there is always time to have a coffee, a drink and a meal. And what a meal it is. The Venetian cuisine offers so much more than pasta. The fish is fresh, the meat comes from Friuli farms and the vegetables are grown in fields just outside the main cities. Unlike Toronto where the food is mediocre, Berlin where it is downright bad and Cannes where I overdose on fish in thick sauces within the first three days, I never get tired of canocce (Venetian langoutines), fegato (sauteed liver with onions, a local speciality), baccalao mantecato (stockfish in a creamy sauce) and all kinds of pastas. Even the tiniest bars have great wine, the best prosecco and high-end grappa. The view from the Villa Laguna terrace, a newly renovated hotel, towards Venice at sunset is breathtaking. So is the sound of the waves on the other side of the Lido, the Adriatic Sea. Taking a half hour bicycle ride along the beach path called murazzi with its stone built piers will take you completely out of the fray and is a welcome break.
And then there are the 20-minute trips across the lagoon to the old city whether it is for an after party or to visit the Biennale or museums if there is time. And there is always time. I get more work done in Venice than at any other festival. And yet it never feels stressful. A lot of festival-repeat-offenders, whether they are journalists or filmmakers also appreciate that the emphasis here is not on making the next deal or raising more money for a half finished product but on the art of film itself. Actors are not paraded in front of possible distributors, you don’t see trailers of upcoming movies that have nothing to do with the festival and there are no sleazy businessmen from Dubai trying to get into the industry by throwing money of questionable origin at independent producers.
In other words: Venice is art and dolce vita combined in the most delicious mix.
Elisabeth Sereda