My options seem limited for the fourth slot of the day. I slide into a mildly amusing documentary, “The Secret Disco Revolution,” which posits the theory that disco was not merely the hedonistic soundtrack to sex, drugs, and rock ‘n roll, but a revolutionary movement promoting women, homosexuals, and blacks. Irresistibly delicious disco footage is interspersed with talking heads (including my erstwhile “Voice” colleagues Vince Aletti and the always-amusing Michael Musto) and the authors of such serious critical tomes as “Hot Stuff: Disco and the Remaking of American Culture,” Alice Echols (the two-volume Random House edition of “Remembrance of Things Past” clearly visible over her right shoulder), and “Turn the Beat Around: The Secret History of Disco,” Peter Shapiro. Alas, director Jamie Kastner has also felt the need to shoot clumsy footage of a disco-attired gay guy, blonde women, and black man, as sort of a linking device, positing them as a seditionary cell. It’s nice when K.C. of K.C. and the Sunshine Band denies any political meaning in Gloria Gaynor’s “I Will Survive,” preferring the message of his own “Shake your Booty.”
After getting shut out of "Midnight's Children," my first this festival, I walk a few blocks to the venerable, excellent, and inexpensive Le Paradis bistro, where they have foie de veau on the menu, as well as bavette, coq au vin, and the delightfully-named blaff à la Martiniquaise, but I am caught by the veal sweetbreads in a port wine sauce – superb, and only $19, washed down with a house Riesling. Le Paradis is the kind of neighborhood bistro that has not only disappeared from NY, LA, and SF, it’s also damned hard to find in Paris these days.
My hosts return home after seeing the same screening of “Midnight’s Children” I couldn’t get into (and attending the afterparty I was not invited to). Score: one positive, two negative.