The Monk and the Fish by Michael Dudok de Wit. Courtesy of Hiroshima 96.

8:30, Second Program. It opens with one of my favorite films, The Monk and the Fish by Michael Dudok DeWit, a Dutchman working in London, who made this film in France, at Folimage in Valence. I admire everything about this film: the simplicity of the story, a monk and a fish, but a philosophy of joy and peacefulness. I had already seen it several times, and each time I discover something more in it: the animation is made of detail close to graphics--black lines of india ink, the choice of paper, the decorative colors like watercolors, pure and lively blues, yellows, the timing, the music--everything in it delights me. Surely I'll see it again in the final awards. Clocks by Kirsten Winter, Germany, a sort of documentary about the life and work of the composer/pianist Elena Kats-Chernin. Lovely effects of painting over live action. The image and music complement each other strongly. Many good films this evening. The audience is content and that benefits all. We continue: Abductees by Paul Vester, England, docu-animation--also one of my favorites for the Grand Prize. Curious to have the reaction of the audience, for this is not an ordinary animated documentary, mixing interviews with animations of tales and sketches of those enlightened ones persuaded that they have seen extraterrestrials. Superb original idea, treated by the hand of a master, with the professionalism of Paul. The audience seems to love it as much as I do.

Then An Artist by Michele Counoyer, Canada--part of the "Rights of Children." Live action superimposed with animation. A young girl wants to become a composer, against the wishes of her father. Rest assured! She succeeds, happily! Thou Shalt Not Covet Thy Neighbor's Wife by Phil Mulloy, England--a stroke of black ink, rude and provocative, to die laughing, liberating! To close the program: The Grey-Bearded Lion by Andrey Khrjanovsky, Russia, 30 minutes of poetry, of pure animation. A moving pleasure--the friendship between the lion Amadeus and his master Peretty. A Felliniesque story--the lion so strongly resembles Andrey himself. All subtlety and emotions. Already seen at Annecy, where I thought it would be awarded the Grand Prize. Maybe here? Even though it's late, the audience stays and loves the film.

To finish the evening, a party, of course, hosted by the sponsors of Hiroshima. Madness! As much sake as you can drink. Stifling heat. Everyone on their knees, on their heels, Japanese style. Everyone sings a song. I conduct a French-language chorale. I brought musical scores with me: great success with "Petit vin blanc" and "Sous les ponts de Paris"...

Saturday, August 24
Day of the picnic at Miyashima. Everyone piles into busses, then into a boat to go to the island across from Hiroshima. Guided visit to the temple, the great gate of the Emperor (I forget which one). Watch out for deer, which have a tendency to eat everything. I had the bad idea to offer them cookies, and a legion of them flocked around me, even trying to eat my dress. They're protected, and one doesn't even have the right to kick at them. Noon: barbecue on the beach. Sumptuous. Then swimming. It's funny to see people that you always see fully clothed suddenly in swimsuits ... there's something touching about it! They must be thinking the same about me when they see my little rolls of fat! Finally everyone is satisfied, and we return, a little sleepy, to the festival.

6:30 show sold out. First film: Barflies, Greg Holland, Australia--animated puppets: two flies that hurl themselves at people in a pub. The parallel with the people in the bar is evident. Refreshing. A good soundtrack, with its cascades of belches. Australia sent many good films: first films, student films of great dynamism promising a flourishing future. They must have good teachers down under. It's an up-and-coming school.