Bob Nelson writes about the 2013 Cannes Lions Festival followed by a column he wrote after the festival in June 2002 when he was on the ad agency side of the business. The two columns offer some context, reminiscing, and a feel for what makes Cannes special and how it’s evolved over the past decade-plus.
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I had the pleasure of sitting with SHOOT publisher Roberta Griefer at the AICP Show this year.
Before the lights dimmed, I mentioned a SHOOT column I had written about Cannes 11 years ago. Roberta suggested that I consider writing another one after this year’s event and she would publish them together to provide readers with a “Then and Now” take on the festival.
So here’s my take on what’s different about Cannes 11 years later. And here’s what’s not.
> Delta Terminal 4. The old Delta Terminal 3 was built as the Pan Am Terminal in the ’60’s. It was “1960’s Futuristic”, and a functional disaster. For those of us who have traveled to Cannes on the only non-stop to Nice all these years, Terminal 3 has been the scene of legendary chaos. Lines stretched out of the building and down the sidewalk, rain or shine. Well, Delta proudly opened its new flagship Terminal 4 just before Cannes this year. Problem is, it’s not just the Delta Terminal. It’s also the terminal for about 100 other airlines–the ones you chose NOT to fly. Terminal 4 is more like a visit to Hormel’s flagship meatpacking facility, and you get to be the meat. Linda Rafuss entered this machine a few minutes after I did. We caught each other’s rolled eyeballs and burst into laughter. I think Delta took something really bad, and figured out a way to make it worse. On a monumental scale. The Tuesday night Delta Flight is no longer the party flight The first time I went to Cannes, I left on Sunday night and didn’t see anyone I knew for the first two days. The next year I left on Tuesday, and knew the whole plane. It’s been that way ever since. But once again, Digital Media has changed everything – it killed the party plane. With the proliferation or categories and awards, the festival starts earlier and goes on endlessly. More categories, more entries, more Lions. Ka-ching.
> They are using plastic at the Gutter Bar. This may not be a bad thing. No more injuries from broken glass. And no more glass-recycling trucks at 6 o’clock every morning, just as you are going to sleep. Our young producer who accompanied me on the trip got a free souvenir glass–like Kid’s Meal at McDonald’s. I’m sure there’s some hipster from Williamsburg who brought home a whole set. If you like the sound of glass breaking, there’s still plenty of that at the Carlton.
> The Leopard Ladies. I almost wrote that I didn’t see the Leopard Ladies this year. But then I saw them. I was happy at first, but then I saw that the courageous mother was having trouble walking. Her daughter was dutifully holding her arm, helping her walk down the street. God bless them. They are probably the most authentic citizens of Cannes. I would love to see them win a Lion some time. Can you imagine the scene in the Palais when they walk on the stage?
> Maya Brewster. Since Maya figured so prominently in my first article, I must note that she was in seat 1A. She got married in the last 11 years and has 2 children. Oh well, my daughter got married too. And I used to have dark hair. David Perry. Not there. Hopefully he’s enjoying Italy with his family.Also not there: the “grown up table” at the Carlton, where the Scarpellis and the Boykos seemed oblivious to the mayhem around them. I was glad Michelle from Amber was back. Miss the Apicellas, and Tom Mooney, and didn’t see Anne Marie Marcus–who introduced us all to Cannes. Happy for my good friends at Yessian and Fluid.
> “What happens in Cannes stays on Facebook” Have to admit, I liked other people’s pictures, and caught up with Promax at the same time. Also knew who won stuff while the Gala was still going on. The French. They still know how to stage the perfect Air Traffic Control slowdown at the height of the summer travel season. And this morning, there was one person doing passport control for Terminal K at Charles De Gaulle–the whole terminal. But I have to hand it to Air France. They served fresh bread in Economy on my flight from Nice to Paris. And they served wine in bottles on the flight to New York. Delta, bring back the good old days, and get rid of the wine boxes.
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Here’s the column published on SHOOTonline eleven years ago on June 14, 2002…
“Heres to the Gutter Bar”
I didn’t go to Cannes last year. I didn’t ask to go. By June, I was in the middle of executing the second round of layoffs in my former agency’s production department. By the end of the year, I would lose 20 percent of my staff. Producers, as a breed, like to produce things. We like to build. So taking apart a department that I loved was particularly painful. Layoffs are miserable for the victims. I know. It happened to me once, when the great agency that I loved for 12 years–Levine Huntley Schmidt and Beaver–closed its doors. But layoffs also take their toll on those of us who have to look our colleagues in the eye, and tell good people that a career is about to be placed on a long, long hiatus. So I looked at the $7,000 trip to Cannes as a quarter of a receptionist, or a tenth of a young producer, or seven spot bonuses. And I decided that it wasn’t right for me to go. But while I toiled in New York, my soul was at the Gutter Bar.
The Gutter Bar sits across the street from the Hotel Martinez. (I don’t even know if it’s the place’s real name). While the Americans are dining at the Carlton, and the CEOs are hosting private parties at the H๏ฟฝtel du Cap, hundreds of young European creatives are spilling into the streets around the Gutter Bar. In the summer of 2000, at this great melting pot of the C๏ฟฝte d’Azur, Germans, Swedes, Dutch and Brits all defined themselves with the same rallying cry–words that defined them as Ad Guys. I heard them in every dialect, screamed with every shade of protruding tongue: “Whaassuuuupppp?” The industry had its phenomenon, and my two short-listed Heineken spots didn’t stand a chance.
I did something at the Gutter Bar that I hadn’t done in 20 years, since my first date with the woman who would become my wife: I stayed up all night. A lot of stuff happened that night in the Gutter Bar. Gary Grossman and I buried the hatchet over Mercedes. Jon Kamen got the barmaid to get or make or find us grilled cheese sandwiches at five o’clock in the morning. (The Gutter Bar doesn’t serve food, but Kamen pulled some famous Kamen strings.) Maya Brewster and I watched the sunrise over the Mediterranean, chaperoned by John Garland.There was something great and young and international and alive about that night. And I realize it was one of the last times I felt great about working in advertising. And you know what? I’m ready for it to happen again. So maybe, just maybe, we’ve seen the worst. To all of us who have endured the recession, who have lived through the devastation of Sept. 11, who missed Cannes last year, and are still in the business to tell about it, I say, “Bring on the Gutter Bar!” It’s time to feel good about ourselves again, to enjoy what we do, to be proud of our work. And most of all, it’s time to watch the sunrise with Maya again.
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Bob Nelson is executive producer at QuietMan and can be reached at bob@quietman.(In 2002, when Bob’s first Cannes column appeared, he was Executive Vice President, Global Creative Manager for D’Arcy Worldwide )