What a day, what a night and again what a day! After arriving in Venice I was a little afraid of…

…getting Florence-Syndrome (an actual registered medical condition where people swoon and/or get halluzinations of ecstasy from the ‚grandezza‘ of the architecture and culture). But the sad fact that venice is actually a kind of centuries old disneyland that is slowly rotting away kept me from actually getting ill of pleasure. One Waterbus to the Lido later and I’m a little seasick, this time for real, before the blinding white stones and buildings of the festival area clear the nausea away. All the cinemas are grouped closely together like a small university campus right next to the seaside. It’s no sprawling, expansive, all-over-town festival like the Berlinale; it feels cosy and more exclusive, also because people take effort to dress well and elegantly. Still, you can find white socks in sandals and the unkempt hair of holidaying seniors and film nerds, not to mention the either bored (waiting for somebody famous) or frenzied (somebody famous has arrived) press people.

„Amanda, Amanda!“ Somebody cries in front of the central Palazzo and of course I leave my bench in the shade to investigate for a bit. It seems Amanda Seyfried has just arrived for the premiere of ‚First Reformed‘. I see her waving in the distance, too far away to guess the designer of her dress and who cares anyways. She gives no autograms. Ten minutes later she is gone and the crowds leave the spots they fought so long for. I’m gone, too. Off to see my second movie, some new young filmmaker I have never heard about (later on I’m very excited, the article will come tomorrow). In more ways than one a film festival is all about where you are and who’s watching.