Cannes Film Festival 2025: No Longer About Cinema But a Spectacle of PR and Influencers
- Nikita Gupta
- 5 days ago
- 4 min read
The French Riviera sparkles under the May sun as I navigate the crowded streets of Cannes, dodging selfie sticks and stepping around influencers posing against branded backdrops. It's day three of the 78th Cannes Film Festival, and I haven't heard a single meaningful conversation about film.
"Excuse me," I mumble, squeezing past a group blocking the sidewalk mostly talent managers and the influencer's team; not people inquisitive about "Who" is getting clicked. They all have gathered around a young woman in an extravagant gown who's conducting what appears to be her 10th Instagram photo-session of the morning.
"Which film are you here to support?" I ask, notebook in hand. She looks momentarily confused. "Oh, I'm not here for a specific film. I'm representing three beauty brands and a luxury watch company." She smiles brilliantly, practiced and perfect. "This is my second year at Cannes. Last year was magical – I gained over 1,00,000 followers in just four days!" Welcome to Cannes 2025, where cinema has become the afterthought. At Café Roma, a longtime hangout for festival veterans, I meet Jacques, a French film critic who's been covering Cannes since 1987. His weathered face tells the story of decades of cinematic passion, but today it's etched with resignation.
"You know what's truly absurd?" he says, lighting a cigarette despite the no-smoking sign. "I overheard a conversation yesterday between two so-called attendees who were discussing how they'd purchased their invitations for 20 lakh rupees each. Neither could name a single director in competition." The practice he's referring to has become Cannes' open secret. What was once the world's most prestigious film festival now operates on a pay-to-play model. For approximately $25,000, you can buy your way onto the red carpet. After securing your invitation, the next step is finding sponsors to offset your costs – luxury brands eager to have their products photographed amid the festival's glamour.
"It's not that influencers are inherently bad," explains Marianne, a producer I meet at a film financing panel that's notably empty. "It's that they've completely shifted the festival's center of gravity. When Cannes makes headlines now, it's rarely about the films." Outside the Grand Théâtre Lumière, I watch as guests arrive for an evening premiere. The security guards wave through a group of content creators I recognize from TikTok, while a renowned Iranian filmmaker waits in line. The filmmaker's previous work earned him political persecution in his home country, yet here, he's less valuable to the festival's current ecosystem than someone who can generate millions of views with a single post.
"I came to Cannes for the first time in 1995," says David, an American distributor I meet at the Film Market. "Back then, we would be up all night debating the merits of films we'd seen. Now my colleagues spend evenings at sponsored parties where no one discusses cinema at all."
The transformation isn't limited to the festival's attendees – it's reflected in the events surrounding it. At a yacht party hosted by a champagne brand, I count over 50 influencers and fewer than 10 people actually connected to the film industry. A PR representative proudly tells me they've generated "over 75 million impressions" from the event, though she can't name any films in competition when I ask. Efforts to maintain Cannes Film Festival 2025 artistic legitimacy still exist. The official selection remains carefully curated, featuring works from both established auteurs and emerging talents. But these films increasingly feel like window dressing for the real business of the festival: the marketing spectacle.
"Do you know what happens during many premieres now?" Jacques asks during our second meeting. "People step out after the red carpet photos to attend brand events. The seats empty out once the cameras stop rolling." The most profound change is perhaps the most intangible – the spirit of the festival. Cannes was once electric with cinematic possibility, where a powerful film could spark revolutions in thought and art. Today, that electricity has been redirected toward metrics, engagement, and sales.
On my final evening, I attend a small gathering of veteran filmmakers in an apartment away from the festival's main drag. The conversation is passionate, focused on cinema's power to transform perspectives. For a moment, I glimpse what Cannes Film Festival once was.
"It's not coming back, you know," says an elderly director as I prepare to leave. "What was lost wasn't just the exclusivity – it was the shared sense that cinema mattered above all else. That's been replaced by something far more profitable but infinitely less meaningful."
As I walk back to my hotel along the Croisette, the Mediterranean breeze carries the sounds of parties and promotional events. A massive screen displays clips not from films in competition but from influencers' red carpet moments. Somewhere in this glittering spectacle, cinema's most prestigious celebration continues – if only in name.