Opening speech of the 61st Festival de Cannes

"Seeing me arrive, trembling in front of you on this prestigious stage, you must be as stunned as I was when Gilles Jacob and Thierry Frémaux let me know that they had chosen me to declare open, on this evening of May 14th, 2008, the 61st Festival de Cannes. After a first instant of disbelief, I thought that I owed this formidable honor solely to their mischievous spirit, many examples of which have been dealt out to us in past. But in the end, pride and importance won out, and I shouted to myself, taking full stock of my newfound power: "It is you who hold the keys, for without you, this Festival will not take place."
That would indeed be a pity, so here I am.

 For the past 61 years, indeed, thanks to the intelligence and talent of those who have assumed and still yet assume the heavy burden of making it exist and increasing its influence, having transformed it into the unique and incomparable event of the planet-cinema, the Festival de Cannes, with both its indissociably connected solemnity and playful character, allows us to see and hear all the richness of the cinema of the five continents in its all infinite diversity. But at the same time – Gilles Jacob and Thierry Frémaux, being perhaps somewhat less mischievous than I might have implied – the Festival de Cannes presents us with the unity of the cinema-world, and that’s what, as I like to believe, both requires and justifies in their eyes my very presence this evening.

For, upon a first superficial look, what is the relationship between the extremities of the spectrum, for example, between Quentin Tarantino’s films and mine, between Jackie Brown or the magnificent Death Proof, screened last year in the same theatre, and Shoah? I cite Tarantino, but I could equally mention many other names, for many are the filmmakers of yesterday and today who delight me. But let us remain with Tarantino. After the Festival de Cannes last year, he granted to Les Cahiers du Cinéma a very long and impressive interview, which gave rise to in the reader which I was, over and beyond admiration and respect, a parental, brotherly sentiment which made me subscribe to each of his words, both when he speaks about the relation between writing and the cinema, the role and place of the cinematographer, or when he likens the experience of a film with climbing a mountain. I have often defined the twelve years of the making of Shoah as the scaling of some unexplored north face, where it was necessary in one and the same movement to invent the way, the method and the goal. Let me be clearly understood: I consider Tarantino not only a filmmaker of genius, but equally a writer, thinker and man of culture. That I feel so close to him does not mean that I believe myself capable of making his films. That will never be. Has he seen mine? I wouldn’t know and it’s of no importance.

I simply wanted to say here something about what is known as the unity of cinema. In the same way there is only one humanity and I can either laugh or cry on seeing a film by Ozu, the Dardenne brothers or Almodovar, in the same way there is only one cinema. Long live the endless diversity of cinema! Long live the indestructible unity of cinema! And so with great solemnity, emotion, expectation and hope, as well as infinite joy, I hereby declare the 61st Festival de Cannes open. Action!"