And so it ends again. The Cannes Film Festival wraps tonight following the awards ceremony and a screening of “Coco Chanel & Igor Stravinsky” which will put a close to the two-week marathon affair.

All in all, it was a sort of middling festival. The weather was fabulous (never a certainty), some of the films got people excited, but some not so much and business was pretty so-so.

Highlights this year of course included a rousing reception for Disney/Pixar’s “Up”; Quentin Tarantino’s unveiling of “Inglourious Basterds” (a film which divided critics); Lars Von Trier’s insistence that he is the “world’s greatest director” (an opinion shared by whom? Anyone?…Anyone?) and the 19-year-old hyphenate Xavier Dolan who swept prizes in the Fortnight with “I Killed My Mother.”

Now, critics are bleary-eyed; the trade journalists (myself included) are exhausted from chasing deal stories of which there were too few (a reflection on the times in which we live); filmmakers are either breathing a sigh of relief or cursing the day they allowed themselves to be exposed to the often harsh Cannes audiences; executives are trying to gauge the future of independent film (an eternal question) and celeb-watchers are likely a bit disappointed.

Brangelina and Jim Carrey zipped in and out of town, Robert Pattinson was zealously guarded by guys too big for the NBA and none of the Heath Ledger stand-ins stood up on the red carpet for “Doctor Parnassus.” Honestly, where is George Clooney – or, hell, Sacha Baron Cohen - when you need him?

Speaking of Baron Cohen, festival director Thierry Fremaux told me several weeks ago that he would have been psyched to have the chance to have “Bruno” in Cannes. But, he hadn’t seen the film and as the release date was set for July it wasn’t a possibility.

A couple years ago, Baron Cohen as Borat made a huge splash in Cannes in his famous yellow ‘mankini.’ Bruno’s short shorts slinking down the Croisette would have been just the ticket this year.

I really have nothing to complain about, though. Twelve years on, I’m still like a kid in a candy store during the two weeks I get to spend reconnecting with old friends and colleagues, chasing down scoops, occasionally seeing films, learning about new talent and sipping champagne with the indie and celeb crowd.

And, after all, I have a glorious 50 weeks to recuperate before it all starts again.

Posted by Nancy