New Photo Book Captures Cannes in the ’80s and ’90s: Excerpt

1984 was the year that Paris, Texas won the Palme d’Or at the Cannes Film Festival, Once Upon a Time in America had its world premiere, and British street photographer Derek Ridgers hit the infamous Croisette for the first time. On assignment to shoot Afrika Bambaataa and attend a screening of the film Beat Street for NME magazine, what Ridgers found was a “circus,” and his new book, titled simply Cannes, captures the fun, folly and frivolity of the rabid amateur photo corps pursuing subjects both known and unknown.

“[The] big crazy circus drew me in, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find the whole thing hugely photogenic,” he says. Until 1996, Ridgers made it an annual event, snapping the photographers who snap celebrities — and occasionally catching Clint Eastwood or Mickey Rourke in his frame.

Five hundred copies of the book will debut May 15 online at IDEA and at all Dover Street Market locations (London, New York and Los Angeles). Here, Ridgers shares the stories behind the pictures.

Why did you decide to do this book now?

The book I published immediately before this one, London Youth Portraits, will probably be my last serious monograph. After 45 years, I can afford to lighten up a little.

This book is not a particularly serious photo book. It’s about the crazy fun times that were the Cannes Film Festival in the ’80s and ’90s. It’s all quite frivolous and there’s no deep meaning in the work.

Was there a time you were truly star-struck?

No, I don’t think I’ve ever been particularly star-struck by any movie star or film director or rock star, either. When you’re in a room with someone famous, they’re like everyone else. They can be a bit aloof or a little too far up themselves, but so can the rest of us — even photographers.

What type of camera did you shoot on?

My favorite camera from this time was the Nikon FM2. It’s a manual film camera that only uses a battery for the exposure meter, so there’s not much that can go wrong with it. And you can carry a couple of those around all day in the sun without needing oxygen.

What’s your favorite image among these and why?

My favorite image in the book is the woman posing in the stripy coat in front of the signs on page 16. Only a few people are photographing her; the rest of the crowd is just standing around watching expectantly. It sums up a part of the Cannes experience: People know something’s going on but no one’s exactly sure what.

What was the day the “music died” and you knew this era was over?

I’m certainly not one of those old blokes who always say it was better back in my day. I’ll bet the Cannes Film Festival is just as much fun now as it was then. The sun, the sea and the beach will be the same. The film stars will be different but there will probably be just as many. Maybe the insanity dial won’t go right up to 11, like it did back then, but who knows, it might.

When didn’t you take your camera out?

Although he’s completely unrecognizable in the wig, [John Hurt] was at Cannes promoting a film called Starlet. It was big news in the two free newspapers that came out each day, back then, during Cannes. Big news also was the party they would host in one of the elegant villas up in the hills. It struck me that this would be exactly the sort of party I should try to gatecrash. On the night of the party, I got a cab up to the villa but it appeared completely deserted. My cab had already left, so I knocked on the front door. I was shown into a large reception room with a beautiful view of the bay of Cannes below.

The only other person in the room was John Hurt, this time without the wig. He was full-length on his back on a sofa, speaking loudly into a phone. He didn’t look at me or in any way acknowledge my presence. The young lady offered me a glass of white wine and then left the room. It was just him and me in that room for about half an hour. He completely ignored me and I completely ignored him. It was all very embarrassing.

Eventually, the young woman came back into the room and the place gradually started to fill up. It turned out that the party was just for the actors and people making the film itself. Other than John Hurt, they all seemed very friendly and not one of them asked me who I was or why I was there. I kept my camera in its bag, out of sight. Eventually, I had a good time at the party but the first half hour was just painful. According to IMDB, there never was a John Hurt film called Starlet, so maybe I dreamt it all.

This story appeared in the May 7 issue of The Hollywood Reporter magazine. Click here to subscribe.