Text Jannat Suleman
It’s that time of year again: Cannes is here. Denying the festival’s ability to spotlight a culture is difficult and it’s even harder to ignore the role Cannes has played in elevating Middle Eastern & Arab cinema. From Algerian filmmaker Mohammad Lakhdar-Hamina winning in 1967 to the competition selection of Palestinian Elia Suleiman’s Divine Intervention in the 2000s, or from the inclusion of Lebanese filmmaker Labaki’s Jury Prize win for Capernaum to their subsequent jury participation the next year, Cannes has certainly helped to showcase arthouse and independent cinema from every corner of the MENA region.
This year, the Official Selection seems to be championing the Global Majority more than it has in the past. 2025 will see the debut of Bangladeshi talent, a triple-threat of Iranian filmmakers and even representation of LATAM and ESEA cinema, too. Even if we dumb down our requirements for diversity further, we see Cannes is making an effort to keep the core of the cinematic festival as representationally accurate as possible. We have no male jury leads this year, as well as an incredible number of female filmmakers returning and debuting at the festival.
Despite all this, I’m still incredibly skeptical of Cannes’ intentions after its opening press conference and ceremony. With Robert De Niro’s open jabs at the Trump administration and Laurent Lafitte’s tongue-in-cheek insults towards Elon Musk, it’s clear that the carpet is a place where we can expect famous faces to highlight the politics of the moment. What we should seemingly still expect however, is the utterly damning selective activism seen in that very opening ceremony.
Photojournalist and filmmaker Fatma Hassouna, whose murder at the hands of Israeli airstrikes has been the subject of a letter with over three hundred Hollywood signatories, was acknowledged by Juliette Binoche on the same stage De Niro name-checked and boldly denounced Trump’s attacks on democracy. Yet in the same breath, Binoche could not denounce the industry silence and indifference over Palestine’s colonisation and genocide. Instead, Binoche felt it more apt to call on the Cannes audience to remember “the hostages of October 7 and all the hostages” and to pay tribute to Hassouna who was killed by “a missile” and a missile alone – no mention of the Israeli government or its silencing of Palestinian voices both in the case of Hassouna or the kidnapping and torture of Hamdan Ballal, co-director of Oscar-winning No Other Land.
It’s this institutional inconsistency that automatically reduces any efforts Cannes makes to improve its representation down to mere checkbox performativity; uneven and unfair in its muddled messaging. It’s not even worth arguing for Cannes’ silence on such a key global atrocity as a European festival, when in the past Cannes has been quick to issue a call for the Iranian government to release filmmakers like Mohammad Rasoulof and Jafar Panahi who have contributed to their festival programming before. Confusingly and perhaps insultingly, Cannes picks and chooses which international governments are worth protesting against. Disappointment prevails when an international festival with such high regard and a powerful legacy can’t bring itself to match its messaging to the cultural wealth of its programming.
To double down on the disrespect and disregard shown to the atrocities of any and all Global Majority nations, Cannes issued a press release showcasing the selected ‘Three Films for Ukraine’ that would complement the opening ceremony, chosen as a “reminder of the commitment of the Festival de Cannes” and its “desire to give voice to those who bear witness to contemporary realities and stand up for the truth.” Yet Binoche, head of the jury, initially refused to comment on her absent signature from the Hollywood open letter, before her carefully curated ode to “the prisoners” of “wars and miseries”.
It’s one thing to settle for a festival’s political neutrality if it chooses to be consistent with its approach, it’s another to be expected to show thankfulness for a world-renowned institution’s contradictory approach to activism, protest and expression. Cannes is not alone in its hypocrisy: the Berlinale showcased similar anti-MENA sentiments in its policing of Palestinian solidarity. With these festivals capitalising off of the attention of such uniquely incredibly Middle Eastern media and then lacking the decency to equally and evenly defend their freedom to create cinema, how much does the festival really matter? How much should it really mean? What worth does it hold to a non-Western nation? I know I’ll remain cautiously pleased at this year’s line-up, but I’m ready to be once again dismayed in a year’s time.