Did you see that dress Bella Hadid wore at Cannes? How about that dress Alessandra Ambrosio wore at Cannes? Oh, or that dress Rosie Huntington-Whiteley wore at Cannes? So many dresses, so many models, but what the hell are they all doing at Cannes? The Croisette has been besieged by statuesque models towering over the trollish men and four-foot-seven actresses who used to be the stars of the show. And they’re stealing the limelight from the works of art that are, at least nominally, the festival’s raison d’être. For shame.
Adriana Lima, for example, is not even in Personal Shopper, Olivier Assayas’s genre-defying portrait of a fashion PA (Kristen Stewart) trying to reach her dead twin from beyond the grave.
My Life As a Courgette, which uses stop-motion animation to tell the story of a 9-year-old adapting to life in a group home after the death of his alcoholic mother, does not star Alessandra Ambrosio.
Staying Vertical, the odd French comedy noted for its graphic depictions of childbirth and “lingering close-ups of genitalia,” doesn’t even feature a cameo of Karlie Kloss.
Neither produced nor written by Irina Shayk is Nicolas Winding Refn’s The Neon Demon, a horror-thriller about cannibalistic models.
Rosie Huntington-Whitley is nowhere to be found in Elle, Paul Verhoeven’s revenge flick about a woman who’s raped and, rather than going to the authorities, vows to get justice herself.
See you at Telluride!