The Nespressos are going cold, the Pellegrino's gone flat and the culinary puns are running increasingly dry as we reach the end of the 67th Cannes Film Festival. On paper it might have lacked the same oomph as last year's big name ballot but the selection this year has still left us thrilled and serene. It's been a competition which had a lot to say about money but which still found space for more organic fare, not to mention a 3D head scratcher from one Jean Luc Godard. So with the Palme d'Or ceremony just hours away lets attempt a quick punt at what should/could/will win and of course, far more importantly, our very own top 5.

Le Top 5

Honourable mention: Leviathan

Had we a touch more time to digest it, this marvelously crafted take on the book of job would most certainly have crept up the list. Strange, staggering and often darkly funny, Andrei Zvyagintsev (good luck with that) threw a late spanner in the works for most critics, and just maybe for the Jury too...



5. Whiplash

J.K. Simmons and Miles Teller go to war in a university jazz band for Damien Chazelle's Sundance conquering debut. The film is explosive. The ovation was too. A full review here.



4. Two Days, One Night

The Dardennes delivered a wonderfully tight story of a woman who is given a week to canvas her colleagues to ask they forego their bonuses so that she can keep her job. The brothers from Belgium are already two times winners here and while we doubt we'll be seeing a third for now, Marion Cotillard is surely a lock for her shrunken, brave lead role. Full review here.



3. Red Army

Gabe Polsky's defiantly nationalist documentary on the Soviet Union's Red Army hockey team might just be one of the most rousing, impassioned sport films to ever hit the screen. Polsky (a player himself of Russian descent) understands the politics of his subject but, far more importantly, the great beauty of their play too. The funny and charming maverick Vyacheslav Fetisov, the film's main focus, has a comet named after him. What more do you need to hear?



2. Foxcatcher

Bennet Miller not only made it three in row with his bleak, brilliant Foxcatcher but, with that great eye for the affluent American psyche, managed to improve on everything too. We expect awards tonight and many more come February. Full review here.



1. The Wonders

Oh the incomparable pleasure of the festival unknown. This writer entered the Salle Debussy with no knowledge of director Alice Rohrwacher, nor expectations of what her new film would bring, but left feeling transcendental and just plain old alive. An unexpected and devastating delight. Full-blooded, gushing review here.

L'Awards

Palme d'Or

Will: A near impossible call but twenty five year old Xavier Dolan's Mommy might just be ballsy enough to stand out from the crowd.

Should: The Wonders. Try and keep up.

Could: Anything from Mr. Turner, Leviathan, Foxcatcher or Winters Sleep

Grand Prix

Will: Mr. Turner

Should: Foxcatcher. Again, keep up.

Best Actor

Will: Steve Carell (Foxcatcher)

Should: Steve Carell (Foxcatcher)

Best Actress

Will: Marion Cotillard (Two Days, One Night)

Should: Marion Cotillard (Two Days, One Night)

L'Epilogue

Phew, well that's all folks. Off to skull a few overpriced domestic beers before the award show begins. Fingers will be crossed for Alice Rohrwacher (not to mention Athletico Madrid). Apologies for saturated news feeds and, as ever, thanks for tuning in. 

Bennett Miller's third feature film concerns the true life story of billionaire John E. Du Pont, who murdered Olympic champion wrestler Dave Schultz in 1996. A classy; bleak; and utterly gripping portrait which boasts a remarkably off type- although still quite funny- performance from Steve Carell.

Channing Tatum play's Dave's younger brother Mark, a gold medal wrestler himself who has always struggled to escape his older sibling's shadow. He's in between championships, training daily and struggling to get by. One day he receives an invitation from John Du Pont (Carell in prosthetic nose and mumbling tone)to meet him on his family's Foxcatcher farm where the athlete is offered a cozy new set of affairs if he is willing to train for the Foxcatcher team. Du Pont speaks in American hyperbole, seducing his prize with talk of heroism, patriotism and all that bag. At first the billionaire hopes to lure both brothers to the team but, when told Dave can't be bought, settles instead for Mark.

Du Pont fancies himself as some sort of sporting leader but he's a full blooded charlatan (not to mention an out of shape one too). He's no sort of couch at all in fact but still the two unloved characters form a bond. It almost boarders on Behind the Candelabra at times- confined to each other's company; Schultz slowly losing his way to drugs and booze- that is until Du Pont's mother dearest (a reliably disapproving Vanessa Redgrave) arrives on the screen and the wayward son's intentions become immediately clear. DuPont blows a fuse and, with new-found determination, lures Dave to the team too. Shit promptly connects with fan.

With Capote and Moneyball already in the bag, Foxcatcher represents an almost eye watering hat trick of debut films (not to mention snappy one-word titles) for the director. Miller picks his true life subjects with a stiletto sharp intelligence, always with great fascination, never afraid to wade into the darker recesses of the American psyche. Foxcatcher is a fine meditation on ruthless competitiveness, but more acutely of the mind of its beta male killer. As the trailers have suggested, Steve Carell is a revelation in the role. Playing against type to the Nth degree, his pitiful brat billionaire is a frightening and pitiable creation and a sure game changer for the affable star.

Perhaps most interesting is how Miller decides to use his story’s focal moment. Every synopsis leading up to this release has been quick to mention Du Pont's crime and the knowing alone is profoundly powerful, not least in the scenes between Du Pont and Mark Ruffalo's Dave. The results are bleak, incredibly tense and really quite brilliant. Will it start a conversation on audience obsession with spoilers? We doubt it, but perhaps it’s time we do. 

We feel we’ll be mulling this one over for days. It's safe to presume that awards for Carell will follow, although with Spall’s J.M.W. Turner in the race, perhaps they won't start here. Whatever the case, the Monday sky hangs fittingly bleak over the Croisette today...