David Cairns tries very hard to have something nice to say about Mike Sarne's Joanna and he has better luck at it than I would have, but let's be honest: Joanna is a very difficult film to love. I remember reading a bit of Paul Schrader's early criticism and found the angry young man even less keen on it than either of us, so we're part of a long, proud tradition of hating this very pompous wash in the waters of trendy stupidness. Note that on the poster below the quote calling it one of the best of the year isn't attributed to anyone, because only a phantom with no stake in our dimension could possibly have the sand to say something that suicidally careless. In a festival that gave us a work by Richard Lester (among his finest, it must be noted), the guardians of the coissette also felt that the appetite of the average festival-goer for brit pop would not be sated by merely one work in that vein, so let in a few more crude imitations. Joanna isn't as bad as they got, but they're a good argument for the auteur-only policy that seems to guide most Cannes these days. Take a look in on David's entry (with a very important guest spot from the good lady wife, her indoors) for a more in depth look at why letting counterfeit auteurism in isn't always the best idea. It's a very entertaining read.