I have a seat in a crowded, darkened theatre and wait for the opening credits to roll.

It’s one of those obscure French titles that starts off in black and white and gradually transitions into artfully saturated technicolour. As the lead actress makes her first appearance on screen I feel someone settle in next to me.

In the gloom I can’t make out who it is but I know it’s an older gentleman by the cut of his trousers and well-cobbled shoes. Back to the movie.

The cinematography is artfully muted allowing the actors to display their dynamic range. I find myself laughing and sighing in sync with my neighbour. At one point I’m offered a piece of gum. Merci. She finds her lover. She loses him. Will she find him again? Will he have her? The ending is ambiguous, leaving the audience to draw their own conclusions. As the lights come up I turn to my neighbour and find myself face to face with Martin Scorsese. I once read that “Marty makes a point to see everything” — but this was unexpected.

He smiles at my unmasked awe, unfazed and asks, “So what did you think?”

I take a beat to collect myself before I answer — this is what we drill for: “It was everything it needed to be ... maybe it could have used a little more blood.”

At this I get a smile and an invitation to have coffee in the American pavilion. We sit comfortably under the yellow sun and chat, pausing every now and then so that he can introduce me to industry acquaintances as they pass by.

At the end of half an hour we’ve laughed a lot, agreed on the roll of feminism in film and about Tom Hardy’s career trajectory (he’ll obviously go far). We both stand and while shaking hands goodbye he says, “Kid, you have some great ideas. I expect great things and I’ll be watching.”

(End fantasy sequence)

While this may have only happened in my head before our arrival at Cannes, it does not negate the dreamlike quality that was the reality of the trip. Red carpets, flashing lights, elegant women in flowing gowns and massive yachts moved on the famed Riviera.

The crowds were unbelievable, thousands of people clamouring to catch a glimpse of a celebrity or to beg for tickets to a screening. And then just like magic you show your coveted pass to the tuxedoed security guards, pass beyond the velvet rope and you’re in a different world. A world where everyone speaks your language and you don’t have to overly explain why you do this thing that you do or even how it works — only what you have been working on and perhaps when you will be starting your next project.

During our long walks along the pavilions and while waiting to see big titles by George Miller and Woody Allen, Kara and I fed off the creative energy and strategised. We have so much we would like to accomplish with our combined vision — and it’s all possible.

And so what if I didn’t get to hang out with Mr Scorsese, maybe next time I will.

C’est la vie :)