The organisers of the Cannes Film Festival are reportedly very upset over the sudden withdrawal of Jodie Foster as president of the jury for this year's event. Ms Foster reluctantly stood down after being offered the starring role in David Fincher's movie, The Panic Room: she got the part after a knee injury forced Nicole Kidman out of the role two weeks into shooting.
People who are not au fait with the world of film might imagine this is no big deal. But it is. The Cannes bash remains the premier film festival in the world, but in recent years French sensitivies over the hegemony of Hollywood have grown inordinately.
Increasingly, Hollywod films are spurned by Cannes juries in favour of more "artistic" stuff from Europe and Asia. And Jodie Foster, with her fluent French and association with the less glitzy end of Hollywood, was seen as the perfect choice for facilitating a rapprochement between the two sides.
Now, the Cannes organisers are in a stew (le ragout). As Festival director Gilles Jacob remarked to me just the other day, "I am peekled" - (presumably his rather endearing version of the French "je suis plutot dans le petrin").
The poor man must now find someone to take Ms Foster's place - someone whose ego is not too fragile to accept a last minute invitation. Le Monde rather cruelly suggested that Nicole Kidman would be the obvious replacement, because knees are not needed for awarding Cannes prizes; but now that Ms Kidman is separating from husband Tom Cruise, she may not want the glare of publicity.
In all modesty, I am proposing myself for the job. What qualifications have I, you may ask It is true I am not a film buff. I might go to see six movies a year. Five of those would in my opinion be about 50 times worse than any of the reviewers have suggested. The other would be complete rubbish. Meet the Parents for example is certainly the funniest film I have been to see this year, but then I haven't seen any others.
I am, however, in close and near-everyday touch with the film "world". I am a regular customer in Xtravision. I was turned down for film extra work on two occasions. I missed some of the same college lectures missed by Neil Jordan and Jim Sheridan. I once passed very close to Peter Sellers in Heathrow Airport.
As for language, I am not as fluent in French as Jodie Foster, but can use au fait in a sentence (see above for proof). I know what a rapprochement is (see above again). I can spell de rigueur.
More importantly, I am well versed in Hollywood lore, Hollywood pay packets and Hollywood ego. My inclinations would be more towards the glitzy end of Hollywood than the intellectual end favoured by Ms Foster, but on the other hand, I am deeply sensitive to French concerns about their culture and the pressures on it.
I share their worries about the dilution and/or contamination of the Gallic culture, whether it be in language, food, romancing skills, sexual proficiency or film output. After all, we have the same problems here in Ireland.
I am also well aware of the vicious nature of Cannes Film Festival politics. Last May, you might recall, the Palme d'Or was won by Lars von Trier for Dancer in the Dark, a movie which many people found entirely idiotic.
The film's star, Icelandic warbler Bjork, got the award for best actress, which many people found even more ludicrous. This was all to do with pouring scorn on both French and American films.
Had I been jury chairman, such a situation could never have developed. I would have made a rule that nobody with "von" in the middle of their name would be allowed to win the Palme d'Or. Nor would anybody with a single name, like Bjork (or Cher or Kylie) be eligible for an award. If any of this created a political storm in Cannes, it would at least be a new political storm.
With all due regard for French sensibilities, I would also rename the various awards. American filmgoers are not impressed when a movie is advertised as having won what they vaguely know as the "Pam Door."
I might rename the main award the Front Door. A runner-up might win the Hall Door award, and some promising young director, whose first film has just barely made it into the festival, might scrape the Back Door prize. The most impenetrable foreign movies (always a close-fought category) would be in contention for the Closed Door laurels and the most simplistic would garner the Open Door award. It will be only a matter of time before the Doors rival the Oscars.