The Epoch crew returned from their day. As the time to leave for the Bacon party grew near no one had eaten. The Danes are renown for their culinary expertise but it was a good bet they weren't serving any pass around hor dourves. John and I took it upon ourselves to find food. We came across a pizza place not to far from the villa. The pizza was unmemorable but the boxes they came in were not. On top of the pizza box was a picture of man cooking pizza who is a dead ringer for George Clooney. Strange. Maybe the owner is a big fan of "Good Night and Good Luck". 

After eating our mediocre pizza we hopped in our pre-ordered and on time taxis and headed to the Bacon Party. The Bacon Party at Cannes is legendary. It's rumored to be excessive even by Cannes standards. When we arrived I snapped this picture of Christian's t-shirt. It set the tone for the evening.

The first person I saw was Bacon co-Founder Martin Werner. I told him I was a little ill. He told me the best thing to do was to drink even more heavily. Remember to never seek out Martin for medical advice. I won't go into the details of the Bacon party. I try to keep this a family blog. I'll only share a couple of highlights.

When I entered the Villa I walked into the kitchen. Strewn across the counter were pizza boxes with half eaten pies. On the cover of the boxes were the same pictures of Clooney making pizzas. I guess in the French Riviera these pizza boxes are standard like in the ones in the US that say "Oven Fresh". I began to wonder if Clooney knows about this. Call CAA on Monday.

My other highlight is that I was offered MDMA...twice. I left early to ensure I'd get a cab down the hill. A car was picking me up in 10 hours to take me to the airport. I didn't want to be late. 

In the morning, I awoke again with a fever. Packed, showered, took more Advil, chatted with Brent all the while praying my car would show. It did. Off to the airport. Patti McConnell was on my plane from Nice to London. I didn't find out until the end of the flight. We got to spend a few moments in Heathrow Terminal 5. It was a treat albeit way too short. My flight back took off late and a mere 15 hours later I was home with my wife, kids and dog swearing never to return.

Now some Cannes randomness.

I went to the official Cannes Lion hash tag on Twitter. For all the hoopla around social media and it's impact on the advertising industry it's remarkable how few are active. During my entire four days here, I never saw Cannes Lions trend once. Maybe as an industry we are more voyeurs than participants but if we want to understand it better maybe we should be more of both....

Believe it or not, there is some cool and meaningful stuff going on at Cannes. Being a vendor whose sole purpose it is to entertain the people we service in exchange for access and hope of a future project, I didn't experience any of the value with the exception of Fisher's panel I sneaked into. Thanks to the world wide web and Twitter, I was able to witness it virtually....

Patti Smith performed. I got it on Youtube. To date, 92 views.

At the show, they recognized the best slides. One thing advertising does arguably better than any other business in the world is create presentations. You don't have to get far to in this slide show to see why. Slide 5 says simply, "ROI is NOT Purpose. Best Brands weren't born to be the most profitable, but to make life better". Worth the scroll through.

If you go the Cannes Lions website you can see the videos. For some reason they won't let me embed. Not very social of them. No wonder there are no comments. Well, after all, they are French. There is some good stuff though. Martha Stewart. Ken Robinson. And, many captains of industry. 

I won't spend time reviewing the award winners. I've never been a big fan of any awards. Recognition is nice but generally I find awards pretty silly. Case and point. When I turned on the British Airways in flight video system, it asked me to participate in a customer award voting for top airline entertainment system. They gave me the web address to cast my ballot for BA. Two negatives and one positive with this.

There is no wi-fi on the plane so I couldn't vote in the moment even if I wanted to. My system broke down in the middle of my movie. It took 15 minutes to reboot and I had to fast forward to where I left off. Then it broke again. Hardly a compelling case to go home, log on and cast my ballot. Those are the negatives. The positive. It only confirms my feelings about awards....

I bid Cannes adieu, au revoir and adios. I'm not sure I've ever missed LA this much.  

I'm not a delegate so the only way to gain admission is to accompany the panelists. The dilemma is how to ensure I wake up in time.

I seek my answer from the best possible source. My iPhone. I go into clock app and sure enough it has alarm. Of course it does. It's simple to create and absolutely a life necessity. Thanks, Steve Jobs. If the iPhone was only edible and could sustain you for thirty days in case you found yourself without food and water, it would be perfection. Oh yeah, except for dropped calls in random places at the most inopportune moments. 

I set the alarm placing my faith in Apple to ensure I'm awoken. Like my cell service at the traffic light on the corner of Palms and Castle Heights, it went off as planned. 

I managed to make it to The Majestic on time. I met Fisher and the two other panelist, Amr Salama the Egyptian Filmmaker/Activist who I mentioned yesterday and Jehave Noujaim, the director of the "Control Room" who is working on a film of the Egyptian revolution.

The panel was sponsored by J. Walter Thompson. It was nice surprise when Erin Johnson, an old friend and Head of PR JWT, was part of the group. We walked over to the Palais. I had no problem gaining entrance even without a badge. It was cool to see there was actually a festival of events. Who knew?

The Panel started promptly at 1030. It was scheduled for 45 minutes. I looked around the auditorium. It was well attended but as you can imagine a mid morning audience at Cannes is a rough room to play. The Moderator began by asking each of the three panelists to tell their stories. This was the best part. Each of these inspiring individuals told of the risks they took to seek the truth and share it with the world. Eventually the conversation led to the role social media played in achieving their ambitions. 15 minutes into the conversation, there was a pause. The question was asked, "What role do brands play in all of this?" We are in advertising and this is an ad conference so this wasn't entirely unexpected. Regardless, my cynicism began to bubble inside of me. I won't go into details since my thoughts on this are an entire post unto itself. 

The panel ended. I said my good byes and I was off to the Carlton for a scheduled meeting with Lisa and a potential new director. I arrived at 11:45 to scope out a table. They both arrived at 12:25. I never understood why Cannes is the sister city of Beverly Hills. Now I do. See my post from June 1 for reasons. 

I had one more promised meeting with a production service company from Argentina and then Lisa and I went to find our crew. The Baconers, our partners from Copenhagen, were hosting a lunch at a restaurant down on the beach. We weren't sure exactly which place it was and then we stumbled upon this. Victory.

We chatted for a short stint. They invited us to have dinner at their villa and off we went. We made a quick stop over to the beach at the Martinez where Tara, Dexter, John and my main man Brent were hanging with a few other friends. I had no desire to sit in the sun so I headed back to the Epoch villa. Thankfully as soon as I exited the beach, I found Cannes rarest and most desired commodity, a taxi. 

Back at the villa, no one was home including the key. I was tired and sweaty. I texted Dexter. Called Rob. Looking for anyone who knew where the key was so I could get into the house. Tired of waiting I stripped down and dove in the pool. It was the best I felt in days.

Everyone slowly came home to get ready for the evening activities. Lisa, Rob and I headed to the Bacon villa for dinner. Johnnie Frankel once again was generous enough to loan us his car for the ride there. A normally 15 minute ride took us 45 thanks to a very confused driver with bad GPS. The villa is at the top of Cannes along windy hair pin turns so I'll give him a pass. Stomachs somewhat in tact and only slightly nauseous, we arrived. The villa was like a scene out of Caligula with a better view. 

We were wined and dined by the Baconers while talking a little shop. Lovely. By 1130, our Epoch contingent left the villa and headed back to the Carlton deck. By now, I've reached my schmooze limit. I was also beginning to feel a little sluggish. I figured I'd make one round. I saw mostly old friends. Jessica Millington. Sharon Lew. Meredith Bergman. Loni Peristere. I found Lisa sitting by herself texting. I told her I was done. She looked at me with eyes that said, "Please don't leave me here alone". 

We left the Carlton went to the Gutterbar, ate a croque monsieur, grabbed and cab and headed home. I know Lisa wanted to have another sandwich but I didn't want to lose the window where cabs are still plentiful. It was 2am and I happily called it a night.

I only had a few glasses of rose. My stomach was full. I felt great. I read for an hour and looked forward to my first restful night of sleep since Sunday. Two hours later I woke up with the chills. Full blow fever.

Their are countless people who party like rock stars doing drugs, drinking to obscene excess and I'm the one who gets sick. The Howard Hughes in me says I should stop shaking hands. Looking forward to Friday since it's one day closer to going back to LA.  

I woke up early and chatted with my Villa mates. I regaled John and Brent, my new BFF, with stories from the book I'm reading on the oral history of ESPN. We chatted sports, drank coffee and watched Tara work frantically on planning our party for 80 guests. None of the men offered her any assistance. We just kept talking. Regardless of the continent gender relations remain safely intact. 

There wasn't a lot of time to lounge. We needed to be at the Carlton by 1. The No6 folks, Toni Lipari and Jason McDonald, were kind of enough to invite us to Eden Rock for some food and swim. A rare moment where some else was paying. I jumped at the chance. 

Hotel Du Cap. Beautiful. Expensive. Players only. The ultimate symbol of excess in the Cannes experience. That's Lisa and Tara in the pool. They have a great job.

The lunch was a star studded cast. I had the pleasure to sit across from Scott Vitrone, from W&K NY. I ordered the grilled asparagus with a soft boiled egg. With the addition of the egg, it made me feel like I was kind of having breakfast before eating lunch. Scott started with the melon and prosciutto. It took quite an effort for him to eat since the melon wasn't pre cut off the rind. Call me crazy but for 30 Euros the dish could be a little more user friendly. Come to think of it, for that price they should've spoon fed him. 

We didn't leave Du Cap until 5:30. Not a good plan. We needed to be in front of the Martinez at 7 to catch the bus to the dinner party we were co-hosting with Human and Mass Market. We got further delayed when a guy on a scooter was hit by a car on the Croissette causing one side of the street to be closed. I felt bad for the victim who was obviously in serious pain. It did make me wonder why we don't witness more accidents such as this based on the toxic mixture of excessive drinking and lack of adherence to basic driving laws.

Meanwhile back at the Villa Rob, our partner in Epoch London, continued to work hard even whilst surrounded by so much temptation. I guess someones got to do it and Lord knows it can't be me. 

We finally made it back to the villa with barely enough time to get dress, grab a cab to the Martinez. and jump on the bus. Me and Lisa would've been stranded had it not been for the assistance of Rattling Stick El Presidente, Johnnie Frankel, who had his car and driver take us to the bus. This shows not only JF's smarts but also his experience. And off to Bacon dinner we went.

It was a majestic night. Great people. Great atmosphere. Great fun. For the record, Mark Altshuler and Tara did all the heavily lifting in planning this party while Justin from Mass Market pitched in. God bless them. I on the other hand did nothing but was happy to take credit whenever someone complimented us on what a magical evening it was. 

Meanwhile, Rob finally detached himself from the computer and joined us at the soiree. As you can see my partner has no problem making a smooth transition from hardworking MD to wealthy Russian oligarch. 

My big realization at dinner. Rose in Cannes is like the bottomless cup of coffee at a NYC diner. Once you order one, your glass remains perpetually full for the duration of the meal. Would appear dangerous however only in Cannes can you drink a gallon of Rose and only be slightly buzzed. At home, two glasses and I'm snoring on the couch.

After dinner it was off to the Carlton deck. Ran into a lot of friendly and familiar faces. Craig Marcus said I looked liked a Japanese tourist since I walked around the entire day with a camera dangling from my neck. I took it as a compliment.

Highlight of the night. 

My friend Fisher Stevens was speaking on a panel regarding the impact of social media on world events. They were using the recent revolution in Egypt as an example. He introduced me to two Egyptians revolutionaries/activist/filmmakers, Amr Salama and Karim Samer. For an hour and half we drank bottomless glasses of rose, spoke about politics, the rebellion, Al-Jazzera and the state of America. It was without question the single greatest conversation I've ever had a Cannes, or possibly anywhere else. 

Fisher saw how taken I was with the topic so he was kind enough to invite me as his guest to the panel discussion the next morning. I had to be at at the majestic at 9:45 am if I wanted to go. It was now 3:30. I walked home. Got in bed by 4 am. Too late to blog. I had to get up earlier than I ever had at Cannes. Long day. Lots of rose. And a precedent setting wake up call. 

Would I make it? Stay tuned. 

I left my house in Venice, CA at 7:30 on Monday night. I arrived at the Epoch Villa in Cannes around 9:00 on Tuesday night. Seventeen and half hours door to door. Barely a single delay or a travel issue. Couldn't have gone smoother. In the best of circumstance it's a long f'ing way. But, I'm here relatively safe and completely unsound. After the trek no reason not to make the most of it. 

The Villa, which is about 20 minute walk from the Croisette, was empty. No note from the Epoch crew. Guess they figured they'd just text me to meet up. The problem is my phone wasn't get any service. I unpacked my bag, washed up and headed to the Carlton. I figured there were even odds I'd find someone to hang with even it was before 10pm. It was a beautiful night so I opted to walk. 

Sure enough I found Dexter on the deck tossing back a few with my soon to be new best friend, Brent, a creative director at LA music house Squeak E Clean. They were accompanied by a few others folks whose names escape me. It was a good social warm up for the rest of the week. I told Dexter of my phone woes and within moments she fixed it. The girls got unlimited talents. 

Sure enough with my phone now working I received all of Tara's unreturned text. I texted her back and told her where to find me. Soon after she joined me on the deck of the Carlton. From there, we walked a few blocks to the Fast Company party at the rooftop of 67 Croissette. Lots of fabulous people were there. Most importantly, The Ting Tings were playing. I took this video of them singing, "That's Not My Name". My girls love this song. Right from the onset, for this reason alone, I can affirm Cannes does not suck. 

FYI - I used the Super 8 app that Jeff Preiss turned me onto. Those crazy iphone. I can't figure out how to make them work internationally but they can take cool retro looking videos.

Untitled from Jerry Solomon on Vimeo.

After this brief concert, it was back to the Carlton. More rose. More conversation. The highlight of the evening was running into Publicis NY Head of Production Nadia Blake. Three great things about Nadia. She reads my blog. She started one of her own about cooking. And she reads my blog. We talked some shop. Using an established solid director versus an up and comer with A list potential. The merits of the P&G list and other fun stuff. She's coming to an Epoch dinner we are hosting tonight so we kept it brief. Great to see her.

I had a few other random conversations before grabbing Tara and convincing her to walk home with me. I had to pace myself. It's going to be a long week.

More tomorrow.  

I've managed to avoid making this trek over the last three years. This means my last visit was in my pre-blogging days. For those in attendance be on notice, My eyes are peeled for salacious industry blog fodder. You've been warned. Note to self, avoid the "three AM over saturated with rose and disillusioned with the world" post. 

A few thoughts on the eve of my arrival.

When you tell people outside of the industry you're going to Cannes on business, you noticeably see a twinge of jealousy. It's as of their body language reads "my company doesn't even allow me to be bumped up to business...on my own miles."

With outsiders, I want to insist Cannes is not as glam as it sounds. I used to place it into context by depicting the brazen indulgences and the embarrassing episodes of public drunkenness. At best it's tiresome and at worse loathsome. I ceased justify it. I sounded like an asshole. Now, I just shrug my shoulders and say "Yeah, I could be mining for coal or attending an insurance convention at the Dallas/Ft Worth Hilton. Instead I drink ice chilled Rose, try not to forget to sunscreen and attempt to be perpetually witty." This is work. 

In my past visits, I've never paid to be a delegate. It's expensive. Between the drinking and time change, I'm afraid I'd oversleep missing the entire conference. There are topics of real interest but instead I prefer to spend my cash to shamelessly solicit past, present and hopefully future clients. 

23 hours of travel time for about 84 hours of actual physical presence. If you negate sleep, it equates to approximately 64 hours of actual schmooze time. I'm staying in a villa with 7 people. I don't imagine I'll be logging many hours of sleep. If my calculations are correct, it's a little less than a 3 to 1 ratio of travel to schmooze time. Sounds about right.

Upon my return I start packing my house. I'm moving 4 days after I land back in LA. For a producer I didn't plan this very well. Sorry Dana.

If memory serves me correctly I usually have a range of emotions at this gathering. In anticipation there is an overwhelming sense of dread for having to be ON for four consecutive days. I'm relatively anti-social. When I arrive it turns into a feeling of determination. I'm here to do a job and I'm going to do it God damn it. Somewhere in the middle, usually in the wee hours of the morning, I stroll by the Gutter Bar and get depressed. By morning I feel encouraged that if what I witnessed last night was representative of our industry than I should be killing it. Then I become sullen around lunch because I can't understand why I'm not more successful. By evening, I drink away my confusion while simultaneously attempting to be likable. 

In the end, I remind  myself of Tripper's sage advice to Rudy the Rabbit in the classic comedy MEATBALLS, "If you make one good friend a summer, you're doing okay". In Cannes I always do. That alone is worth the journey.

Hopefully more comments to come from the South of France unless my impressions I deem not for public consumption. Or, I'm overcome with hangover induced laziness. Both are distinct possibilities. Au revoir, for now. 

I won't tread on past peeves such as the disconnect of creative demands from production cost realities. The focus on what they aren't getting from a production budget versus what they are. Wanting to commoditize creativity without acknowledging we create something unique each time out. Or, the fact they have no skin in the game. Did I just tread? Oops. 

In the fun loving world of procurement, there is a new trend worthy of note. In the last year we have seen many erstwhile suppliers switch teams and join the ranks of the cost consultant. They are former owners/upper management from agencies, production companies and editorial houses. From a historical standpoint this is not an uncommon practice.

When Franklin Roosevelt set up the first Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) he tapped Joe Kennedy as the inaugural Chair. Kennedy was a major manipulator of the stock market whose business practices were considered major factors in causing the crash. When FDR was famously asked why he would appoint a criminal to this post, he replied, "Takes one to catch one". 

At first I thought I'd give this supposed transfer of allegiance the benefit of the doubt. It could be a positive. Maybe the emphasis is shifting from blind cost cutting to value articulation. In other words, analyzing budgets with a scalpel as opposed to slashing them with a cleaver. Wishful thinking. The goal remains the same. To commoditize production, reduce vendor margins and reallocate the profit from those that create to those that critique. 

Being part prognosticator/part conspiracy theorist, I believe there is a bigger agenda than getting a bunch of "Joe Kennedy's" to squeeze another percentage point or two from our margins. Like any business, especially those in their infancy, it needs to grow and expand. Cost consultant cannot place all their eggs firmly in the basket of "we can get you more bang for the buck". It's not sustainable. So, what's the future intention?

It's been reported that a few recent bid negotiations have been handled directly with the cost consultant. The agency producers stand on the sidelines acting primarily as mediator while the EP and Consultant duke it out. There has also been instances where the cost consultants attend the pre-pro and the shoot. They are no longer observers but a voice in decision making ranging from whether we have the shot to what qualifies as an overage. 

At the client level if procurement departments continue to win the battle over marketers, we are only going to see the continued increase in cost consultant power. With their influence no longer exclusive to bidding but including physical production, Consultants are beginning to usurp the role traditionally held by agency producers. This is a potentially serious evolution. 

Is it inconceivable that an aggressive and ambitious consultant company could convince a client that they are better suited to handle the production duties than an agency's integrated department?

They could claim they are better trained, more resourceful, less expensive and their loyalty lies in the appropriate place. It's the American version of decoupling where agency creative is turned over to the client who then contracts and produces the work themselves via outsourcing. It would be a cost consultants dream scenario and potentially our nightmare. It would not only further fracture an already delicate creative process but also financially increase our risk while decreasing reward. 

I'm afraid I'm starting to sound like Harold Camping, the guy who predicted the end of the world. Indulge me in one more paranoid fantasy. If successful, I imagine the logical path would be to set up in house consultant/production departments eating up a portion of the business leaving our community to fight over the remaining scraps. In what is becoming a cost and volume driven business rather than a quality driven one, these scenarios may not be as crazy and unfathomable as I sound. 

There is a silver lining in so many of our former compatriots signing up with the opposition. My back up career plan was always short order cook. I'm confident I could hone my griddle skills to land a respectful diner gig. Now, if all else fails, I can send my resume to the cost consultants. They may be in the market for a few good ex-EP's. 

How about those Mavs? Amazing journey. Jason Kidd. Dirk Nowitzki. Jason Terry. Shawn Marion. All warriors ranging from great to Hall of Fame careers yet all shared a glaring hole in the resume. No ring. As of last night, no longer. They are all winners.....Classy move by Mark Cuban to let Donald Carter, the man who brought the NBA to Dallas, accept the Larry O'Brien championship trophy. Poetic ending to arguably one of the best seasons in NBA history. Great for the league. Great for the game. Great for sports. Bad for ABC/Disney. Lord knows how much they left on the table by the Heat unable to force a game 7.....

At last Tuesday's AICP show we were recognized for Low Budget Commercial for Matt Dilmore's hilarious film for PGI out of Muh-Tay-Zik in SF. Don't get me wrong, we're very proud, but in the next three days we received no less than half a dozen projects under six figures. Some even had zero dollars. They just wanted to see if we'd "invest". Coincidence or Pavlovian?....We also won for campaign of the year for Phil Morrison's "Mayhem" Allstate spots. So, where are the campaign of the year boards? I guess they are either being written or sent to another production company....

Bill Simmon's, arguably the best sports writer working today, launched his own website last week called GRANTLAND. It's like the defunct sports weekly "The National" for the digital generation. Irreverent and honest editorial with a healthy dose of pop culture.  My only critique is I thought they could've come up with a better name. I guess I should he thankful Simmons didn't call it BIRDLAND. Check it out if you haven't yet. It is a must bookmark.....

The crossover dribble. It's become as much a fundamental in basketball as free throw shooting or a pick and roll. It gets dissected extremely well by the NY Times who acknowledge all the masters including Pearl Washington, the first player I remember who showed me it was an art form.

Another reason why growing up in the digital age can be limitless. My 11 year old daughter Eliza with two of her friends wrote, performed, and recorded this song. They played the instruments and supplemented with garage band. She asked me to post it so more people could hear it. Eventually I'll have to break it to her that my audience is much smaller than she imagines....

09 The Last Scene

At risk of making too many sports references today, I have to mention the HBO documentary that aired on Saturday night, "McEnroe/Borg: Fire & Ice". It brings back a lot of memories especially for those like me who grew up in the 70's. Rolfe if your reading this, TiVO it asap. After you finish viewing you may go back and watch it again...

I saw the new Nike surfer spots by Lance Accord. Great films. I'm not even a surfer or snow boarder but somehow it bothers me Nike has not only entered into this arena but are commercializing it. I guess it's the purist in me. It's like when that favorite indie band few had ever hear of starts getting a buzz and proceeds to sell a million records. The mainstream removes the shine from the cool factor and they never sound quite the same again....

One more week until Cannes. Lord help us, one and all....