Cannes: Day 1

Wong Kar-Wai gets lost in translation with My Blueberry Nights while a small-scale Romanian abortion drama gets a big thumbs up.

While few would admit it, there were mixed feelings in the air as vast crowds flocked to the opening night screening of My Blueberry Nights, at the 60th Cannes Film Festival - an American-set road movie from director Wong Kar-Wai. Yes; the director has rarely set a foot wrong in a long and lavish career, but was the decision to cast coffee-table Jazz chanteuse Norah Jones in a lead role really a wise one? The answer, sadly, is no, as 'MBN' is likely to disappoint the director's loyal fan-base with its poor performances, weak script and emotional flimsiness.

When Elizabeth (Jones) discovers that her boyfriend has been doing the dirty on her, she finds a shoulder to cry on in the form of Jeremy (Jude Law - poor), a chipper Manc café owner who has seen his fair share of emotional break-down in the years. With a narrative nod to Bukowski and Kerouac, she decides the only way she can overcome her past is to look to the road, and so heads straight down Route 66 via Memphis, Reno and Vegas.

With his previous two films In the Mood for Love and 2046, Wong proved he was a master of coiled sexual frisson, and while 'MBN' is packed full of the observational musings and cutesy relationship titbits that made Chungking Express such a thing of beauty, the film's heavy-handed symbolism and Hallmark sentimentality mean it comes across a little like it was written by Oprah.

The first sign of anything sufficiently gelling with Wong's aesthetic exuberance (the film is undeniably gorgeous) is David Straithairn's nighthawk traffic cop Arnie, whose tender performance offers the film's lone emotional sucker punch. "Did you learn nothing from your time with me?" asks Natalie Portman's brassy card shark to Elizabeth after the pair have spent a little time aping 'Thelma and Louise'. No, not really.

My Blueberry Nights is the first of a number of films at this year's festival in which a director has chosen to abandon their native tongue other regions of the world - others include Hou-Hsiao Hsien's Le Voyage du Ballon Rouge (Taiwanese goes French) and Carlos Reygadas' Stellet Licht (Mexican goes, eh, Finnish) to name a few. We can only hope that this jarring cultural juxtaposition isn't spreading...

Things perked up considerably in the afternoon with Romanian helmer Cristian Mungiu's exceptional, Dardennes-esque look at back-street abortion entitled 4 Months, 3 Weeks, 2 Days which is playing In Competition. There's a certain glumness to the proceedings which will more than sate fans of the 2005 Un Certain Regard award-winner, The Death of Mr Lazarescu, and while the film's cautious build-up is a little sluggish, the moments of dread begin to pile up as the minutes fly by. With a clutch of strong central performances and a pleasingly objective look at the ins-and-outs of abortion, this seems like it could become a strong contender for prizes come the 27th.

In all, a mixed first day with a misfire from a master and a pleasant surprise from Eastern Europe.

David Jenkins