CANNES, France — In case you were wondering, why yes, the petro-rich Gulf States are on the offensive at the Cannes Film Festival just as they are in every other category of global commerce.
Growing cultural power has been a long term goal of all the Gulf states – Saudi Arabia, Dubai, Abu Dhabi and Qatar. But it has been a start-and-stop process. The UAE and Qatar have been bringing Western museums, universities and movie production to the Gulf region for the better part of 15 years, with mixed success. And in Qatar’s case, media has been a major focus of its investment in global influence with Al Jazeera.
This week the checkbooks are out to woo movie production.
A Qatari delegation was taking meetings on the Croisette to promote film production from Hollywood, which seems hard to fathom since the country is so tiny. Hollywood agents I spoke to expressed skepticism, but they were curious enough to check it out.
Saudi Arabia has a sprawling space on the beach in the global village where they are eagerly promoting its movie industry. I stopped in and found the space packed, with a man in a Bedouin dress pouring Arabic coffee from an elaborate pitcher. The Saudi Film Commission “is establishing national strategy to support and foster the long-term growth of a sustainable Saudi film industry and cultural sector” according to a glossy handout. They were promoting a 7,000-foot new production facility and up to 40 percent rebates on production (consistent with other countries).
The Gulf states have money in near-endless abundance. But they have come up against cultural barriers to their ambitions. Saudi Arabia, which has been opening up its rigid Islamic-run society, still allows the death penalty for homosexuality. And while the abysmal state of women’s rights has improved somewhat since 2019, women still have very few rights in Saudi Arabia compared to Western countries. A woman can now drive, and she can travel and work. But even with those improvements, Saudi Arabia is still 126th out of 146 countries on the World Economic Forum’s Global Gender Index of 2024.
Meanwhile, Qatar, a complex power player with ties to Hamas and Iran, sees itself on the rise. It welcomed the U.S. President last week and has just committed $500 billion to the U.S. across many sectors, including military.
Qatar also does not permit homosexuality.
Clearly a lot of Hollywood (Ari Emanuel, Jay Penske, for example) is happy to scoop up cash and build relationships in the Gulf. But not everyone is comfortable. I spoke to one major producer who smirked when I asked if he would make movies there. “No,” he said. “Because my parents raised me to have principles.” And I know one Hollywood ex-mogul hired as a consultant who told the Qataris that its LGBTQ intolerance would be a non-starter for working with the entertainment industry.
How you intend to create a thriving cultural and entertainment economy without fundamental freedom of expression is a mystery to me. The films playing in Cannes challenge authority, tell stories of corruption, depict the social chaos that deliberate misinformation has sowed and exposes inequalities of class, gender and race around the world.
This will continue to be a hurdle for serious filmmakers and other storytellers choosing to do their work in the Gulf.
A New Platform for Indie Film
I met the founders of the embryonic distribution platform for independent film. Flink, cofounded by Irish filmmaker Richie Smyth and finance executive Kevin Omeallan, aims at solving the problem of distribution for independently financed movies.
The two, along with their head of content Lisa McLaughlin, said they were spurred to accelerate their plans after reading TheWrap’s coverage from Sundance about the shrinking (actually, shrunken) distribution options for independent film from the major studios, reflected in the weak sales from the festival. It’s a crisis for independent film – which they see as an opportunity.
Their solution: self-distribution on a streaming platform.
“The idea is to empower filmmakers in terms of distribution,” said Omeallan.
Said Smyth: “We’ve been working on the concept for the last number of years from an indie film perspective. But we read about Sundance and we saw the urgency in terms of what is going on.”
Here’s how it works: a filmmaker uploads their film to the platform and chooses what to charge for a viewer to download to stream or buy. The user creates a log-in and can build a library for independent movies on Flink. The system uses Blockchain technology to give filmmakers visibility into their payments (which are in actual currency).
Flink will eventually take a small commission on the film rental or sale. They hope to scoop up a lot of films from festivals like Sundance and Cannes, where too many properties go unsold.
Presuming the tech all works, it seemed to me that discoverability would be a huge issue for film lovers who’d log on and not know the filmmakers. But what do I know?
I asked a veteran industry executive who recently ran not only cable channels but built several streaming services, and now advises companies on strategy.
He was skeptical. “There’s no precedent for that model to work, unfortunately,” the executive said. “Festivals are a false positive. When you’re there, the energy is high, it’s a community experience, it’s not like going to the movies at home.” He pointed to any number of tiny streaming platforms that haven’t scaled, including Fandor or even Vimeo, which conceivably could mimic this idea.
The Flink group is undeterred. The company is in Beta, and fundraising with a planned substantive launch later this year.
The Women ‘Aren’t Muted Anymore’
It’s been eye-opening to see the female stories at the festival this year, venturing deep into interior lives, talking about the unspeakable and the transgressive.
Kristen Stewart’s moving film “The Chronology of Water” is a kind of filmed tone poem translated from the memoir by Lidia Yuknavitch about sexual abuse by her father, her journey as a writer and her ultimate ability to heal. The film is unabashed about women’s sexual needs and desires.
When I interviewed Stewart at our lounge this weekend, the actress and director was definitive about the subject’s relevance to her and other women:
“Even if you don’t have the specific relationship to abuse that this woman does, if you have been walking around the Earth with a female body for the last, you know, right now, being told to shut the f–k up is pervasive. It’s just a fact,” she said. “I think there are certain pieces of work that allow you to exist, all of a sudden you go, ‘Wow, f–k me. That is a mirror.’”
She added: “I didn’t want to make a movie about the things that happened to this woman. I wanted to make a movie about what we can do to the things that happened to us.”
Then Lynne Ramsay brought “Die, My Love” to the festival, with Jennifer Lawrence playing a young mother who cannot find the ground beneath her feet after having a baby. Robert Pattinson plays her loving husband who nonetheless has no idea how to help her as she goes further and further off the rails. The film is also unabashed about women’s sexual needs and desires.
Interestingly, male critics told me they felt somewhat awkward reviewing these deeply personal subjects to women. I can see why.
How perfect, then, to cross paths with the legend Sissy Spacek, who plays Jennifer Lawrence’s mother-in-law in “Die, My Love.” Her presence on screen is brief but grounding; she represents the journey all mothers travel and offers Lawrence grace.
Spacek was on her way home after coming for the premiere. I pointed out how confident the messaging was from these women filmmakers and their lead actresses. Spacek smiled and nodded. “It’s because women’s voices aren’t muted anymore,” she said.