By Dave McCoy
MSN Movies Lead Editor

I was just finishing writing this final dispatch when word came that the Cannes jury had made their award selections. Coincidentally, I was writing a rave review of the second-to-last film I saw Friday at the festival. It's called "Entre les murs" ("The Class"), directed by Laurent Cantet. It's passionate, pulsing with life, and along with Nuri Bilge Ceylan's "Three Monkeys," was the best film I saw at Cannes this year.

And the Cannes jury agreed with me.

In a unanimous decision, "The Class" received the coveted Palme d'Or, which not only means the jury got it right, but in the process, also ended 21 years of France's failure and frustration at its own film festival. The last French film to win the festival's top award was "Under the Sun of Satan" in 1987. That Cantet is among today's best French filmmakers (for proof, rent "Human Resources" or "Time Out"), rather than a one-time knockoff, is icing for a nation hungry for a win. Jury president Sean Penn set the tone two weeks ago when he said the Palme d'Or winner would (and I'm paraphrasing) reflect what is going on in the world (i.e., a social or political film) -- and "The Class" definitely fits that description. It's set entirely within the walls of an inner-city Paris junior high school, either in a classroom or a teachers' lounge. It's the antithesis of typical American maudlin underdog teacher-student movies, such as "Stand and Deliver" and "Lean on Me," but instead realistically presents what school is like. It's easily the smartest, most authentic film about school I've ever seen. It's also hilarious (the kids -- all nonactors -- could have collectively shared the acting award), riveting, and delves into socio-political-racial issues (not to mention educational approaches) in a naturalistic way. Never does the film stoop to preachy, heavy-handed sentimentality. Hopefully, because of its Palme d'Or win, this film will find an audience in America; it could easily be a huge art-house hit here.

The jury also got it right by awarding Ceylan the Best Director award for "Three Monkeys." Other winners included: two Italian films, "Gomorra" and "Il Divo," whic won second and third place, respectively; the Dardenne brothers, who failed in their third attempt for a Palme d'Or, settled for Best Screenplay for "The Silence of Lorna"; Best Actress went to Sandra Corveloni for "Linha de Passe;" and Best Actor went to the deserving Benicio Del Toro for "Che." That award and a special jury prize for Clint Eastwood's "Changeling" were the closest things to an American win. Yanks were otherwise shut-out. Also shut-out was the well-received, visionary Israeli feature, "Waltz With Bashir." Perhaps the jury doesn't like animation.

See the other winners

It's somewhat ironic that "The Class" won the Palme d'Or. Cannes wrapped up the weekend today, ending 10 weeks for misery and pain. I don't mean the event itself; I had a great time again (and no full-body heat rash or food poisoning this time!). But, thematically, almost every film presented was increasingly more brutal than the film before. If I go next year, remind me to bring Prozac. Hell, even the "comedy" in the official competition group, Charlie Kaufman's "Synecdoche, New York," was so black and bleak that people gasped rather than chuckled. But, hey, this isn't the multiplex. Cannes often mirrors what's going on in the world. Pick up a newspaper; it's not pretty right now. Anywhere. So it's a nice touch for the jury to give its highest award to "The Class," a difficult film to watch that's also tinged with some hope. 

Final Thoughts
Before bidding adieu, here are a few final observations on films I saw late in the festival.

"Synecdoche, New York": I mentioned Charlie Kaufman's directorial debut earlier (if you don't know him, he is the screenwriter behind "Being John Malkovich," "Adaptation." and "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind"), but I wanted to say a bit more. You rarely see ambition like this from a first-time filmmaker, but ambition doesn't necessarily make for great cinema. Have you seen "Southland Tales"? So I give Kaufman props for ambition. The film is about a theater director (Philip Seymour Hoffman -- the best actor on the planet right now) who is physically and mentally breaking down. He receives grant money and decides to create a play of, well, life. He rebuilds New York, hires thousands of actors to play real people -- including himself and everyone he knows -- and then hires more actors to play the lives of the actors and so on. The snake eats its tail here, pukes it up and eats it again and again. It spans 30 years (maybe?), is nonlinear and we're never sure whether we're in reality or fantasy (e.g., Samantha Morton, Hoffman's object of desire, lives in a house perpetually on fire). It starts off promising but becomes an exhausting exercise in self-loathing. It's darkly humorous but ultimately bleak. It offers no hope, neither in the confines of the very insular film (all inside Hoffman's head) nor in life. We live, we struggle, we try to make sense of it all, but we simply die and with us goes any pretense that we matter or have contributed anything that will last. Good times.

"Of Time and the City": It won no awards (it wasn't entered in competition), but Terence Davies' comeback film (he was last seen in 2000, when his masterpiece, "The House of Mirth," tanked) was the most beloved movie at Cannes. It's Davies' 72-minute personal poem about his life and memories, his home city of Liverpool, and a life slipping away. It's a mixture of newsreel footage and Davies' own filmed footage, plus a mixture of words from great writers and Davies' memories (he's so good, you can't tell his work from that of the great writers), and it's overwhelming.

While watching it, I experienced the highlight of the festival. I was sitting next to an old English couple. During the film, the man kept pointing to the screen in recognition of something he remembered. He often chuckled, said "Oh my," or made a number of sounds. Davies' memories were his, on some level, and he too was looking back at his life. At one point, I laughed at one of Davies' many wry jokes. The man quickly turned to me, put his hand on my shoulder, looked at me, nodded and said something I couldn't understand, while pointing back at the screen. And at that moment, I became part of this man's memories, and in return, he became part of my mine. In a movie theater, watching a film about memory and experience, two strangers shared a wave of camaraderie because of one artist's work about personal reflection. The only word I can think of to describe it is holy. I may one day be old and watching a movie and reflecting back on my life -- and if I do, that old man will be part of it. He'll appear in my mind, with great tenderness, as newsreel footage and take me back to May 2008 in Cannes, France.

I have many memories from this year's festival, but it will be those 5 seconds of connection with that man that will be forever etched in my mind. And people ask me why I spend so much time in movie theaters ...

Au revoir ...

Dave McCoy is lead editor for MSN Movies.

Write us at heymsn@microsoft.com

Sound off: Comment on this story