Tom Bernard isn’t just lugging his tuxedo with him when he travels to the Cannes Film Festival this month; the Sony Pictures Classics co-president is also stuffing his suitcase full of jerseys and T-shirts emblazoned with logos of Canadian hockey teams like the Toronto Maple Leafs. “I want people to know I’m Canadian, not American,” Bernard says. “I’ve been going to Cannes since 1985, and when things are not going well in the world, you feel it. It changes the atmosphere.”
Bernard may be Canadian by birth, but like many in the indie film business, he makes his living in the U.S. That could be a problem, because the country has launched a trade war with, well, everyone. And Trump’s May 4 bombshell announcement on Truth Social that he was instituting 100% tariffs on all movies “produced in Foreign Lands” should lead to uncomfortable moments up and down the Croisette.
“They’re going to treat us like Teslas,” predicts one studio executive, referencing the electric vehicles that have seen sales drop 70% since Elon Musk joined Trump at the White House.
There’s plenty to distract from the geopolitical awkwardness, however. This year’s festival will offer a dazzling display of star power. Tom Cruise, last seen at Cannes gazing up from the steps of the Palais as fighter jets streaked across the sky in homage to “Top Gun: Maverick,” returns with “Mission: Impossible — The Final Reckoning.” The film serves as Cruise’s farewell to the spy franchise, which used European cities, such as Venice, Paris and Vienna, as backdrops for its biggest action set-pieces. Then there’s Harris Dickinson and Scarlett Johansson, who will walk the red carpet to showcase a different side of themselves — the pair are making their feature directing debuts with “Urchin” and “Eleanor the Great,” respectively. And Wes Anderson will bring his latest, “The Phoenician Scheme,” to Cannes. The auteur’s new ensemble film practically groans under the weight of A-list headliners such as Benicio Del Toro, Benedict Cumberbatch, Riz Ahmed, Jeffrey Wright and Tom Hanks.
Pulling off a premiere at Cannes is an expensive proposition. Smaller indies with big stars attached will spend in the low six figures for private travel, makeup artists and stylists, as well as security. That climbs past $1 million for an ensemble cast in a studio picture like “Mission: Impossible,” which also needs to tow along publicists and managers. It’s a check most are willing to write, as Cannes’ status as a tastemaker was reaffirmed after it hosted recent Oscar contenders like “Emilia Pérez” and last year’s best picture winner, “Anora.” Its ability to generate attention for movies that premiere at the festival justifies the expense of shipping stars and their entourages to the Riviera.
“Cannes marks the start of the awards race,” Bernard says. “It’s perfect for launching a film because it’s hard to find many other festivals where you have the attention of the global media focused on one place.”
Despite all the glamour that makes Cannes such a singular experience, there’s palpable anxiety as the festival gets ready to kick off its 78th edition. Many executives fear that Trump’s tariffs will jeopardize their businesses. There’s widespread confusion about how the tariffs on foreign-made films would be administered. If they do go into effect, they threaten to unravel a network of foreign subsidies that studios and indies rely on to finance their movies. The broader tariffs already have the potential to drive up production costs, as materials for sets and costumes shipped from countries like China are heavily taxed. If interest rates rise or remain at their relatively high levels, that increases the cost of capital, making it more difficult to secure the financing needed to produce films. The declining value of the dollar, too, means shooting movies abroad will be more expensive.
That’s to say nothing of the spillover effect from the tariffs, such as the potential for a global recession. Further complicating the situation is the whipsaw way these tariffs are being implemented — they’re on, they’re off — which makes it nearly impossible for companies to plan.
“Tariffs are the preeminent macroeconomic thing happening right now, but there’s so much shifting that it’s hard to know what it’s going to be like in three or four months, let alone in the next year,” says Glen Basner, founder of FilmNation. “The only thing you can do is pay attention and iterate as you go.”
Gaëtan Bruel, president of France’s National Film Board, says the Trump administration’s positions “are creating a great deal of unease in Europe.” If the film-focused tariffs go forward, he predicts that “everyone would lose out, starting with the U.S. industry itself. Europe, and France in particular, are major markets for American works.” Films out of the U.S. represent roughly 60% of the content that people in Europe consume.
Sarah Lebutsch, senior vice president of sales and distribution at Protagonist Pictures, doesn’t think that buyers will turn away from American films in protest. She’s cautiously optimistic that the best stories will find distribution around the world, regardless of where they’re made. “We haven’t yet seen any politically motivated decisions about films coming from certain territories,” she says. “For distributors, it’s more about the strength of the package or the finished film.”
If the world tips into recession, international borders won’t be enough to withstand the economic pain; everyone will be impacted. What will that mean for cinema? Movies continue to be affordable forms of entertainment. A ticket to the latest blockbuster costs a fraction of what people spend to go to a concert or a ball game. The hope is that if the economy starts to tank, audiences will still pay to see the movies that premiere at Cannes or get sold to distributors as packages (industry parlance for a script that comes with a director and cast attached) in the market that accompanies the festival.
“What I think will always be true is people like to go to the movies if there’s good shit out there,” says Scott Shooman, the head of IFC Entertainment Group. “Movies are still cheaper than a vacation or a fancy meal. They’re still a really good value proposition.”
Alisa Gao for Variety
When the pandemic subsided, older adults who once bought tickets to more offbeat, original films didn’t come back in the same numbers as younger moviegoers. But in the past year or so, independent studios scored big hits. In some cases, they’ve been shaking up their slates in favor of more genre fare and less Oscar bait. That worked with “Late Night With the Devil” and “Longlegs,” horror films that were released by IFC and Neon and were embraced by audiences. But dramas and comedies like “Anora,” “Conclave,” and “The Brutalist” also racked up impressive grosses, proving that there’s still an audience for the kind of auteur-driven projects that Cannes embraces, particularly if they are offering something distinctive from the generic action films and comic book adventures that major studios produce.
“You’ve seen so many more independent movies break through in significant ways theatrically,” says Basner. “These were challenging movies that excited audiences. What that says to me is we need to stop worrying about what the audience is asking for and focus more on supporting what the filmmaker’s vision is. That’s a great pathway to success.”
When they’re not attending premieres for their films or watching other movies to scout for talent they hope to work with, executives like Basner spend their time at Cannes meeting distributors and sales agents from around the world in cafés and hotel bars. The film industry is a relationship business. These connections are forged over years spent journeying from one festival to another, checking in with a global network of businesspeople and creative talent to assess the health of an art form they love. Many executives believe that these ties are strong enough to withstand the cultural tensions triggered by the Trump administration’s actions. Moreover, Hollywood’s liberal politics diverge from those of the president, which executives think gives them cover.
“I’ll get a sense early on in the market if there’s any sort of hostility,” says Kent Sanderson, the president of Bleecker Street. “Maybe I’m just being optimistic, but I think the spirit of our conversations may be one of more commiseration, given the political leanings of most of the American film business, rather than a sense of blame.”
Charles Gillibert, a French producer, will be at Cannes with Kristen Stewart’s directorial debut, “The Chronology of Water,” and Jim Jarmusch’s “Father, Mother, Sister, Brother.” He plans to keep collaborating with American talent because what matters is “not the nationality — it’s the worldview.”
Even though Hollywood may not be ideologically aligned with Trump, many celebrities and executives have opted to keep their objections to themselves as his second term kicks off, perhaps fearful of the career fallout they could suffer. Gillibert was surprised to see that “some reactions in the industry in the United States to recent events are rather timid.”
Trump’s return to power and his willingness to use it to punish enemies has had a chilling effect when it comes to producing more controversial movies. In 2004, Cannes awarded its top prize, the Palme d’Or, to “Fahrenheit 9/11,” Michael Moore’s blistering examination of George W. Bush’s decision to invade Iraq. Today, politically charged documentaries, particularly those taking aim at the current president, are an endangered species.
“Concern over the administration weaponizing the tools at their disposal against people who are making films with messages they don’t like hurt the market for social interest documentaries,” admits one sales agent.
But there’s another side to that coin. The agent notes that films that lionize the president and his inner circle, such as Brett Ratner’s upcoming documentary on Melania Trump, which sold to Amazon for a reported $40 million, have never been hotter.
“If you want to pay tribute to the king, that’s a pretty good way to do it,” the agent says.
Additional reporting by Matt Donnelly and Elsa Keslassy
