Judgment

John Hunt, Press and Outdoor/Film jury presidentWorldwide creative directorTBWA WorldwideThursday, June 16: Two Buddhist monks fly down from Frankfurt to Nice with me. The more senior one is wearing Timberlands; his junior is in old sandals. I don't know what that means, but notice Mr. Timberland flies Business and his disciple, Economy.The weather is perfect on arrival. My driver says he likes advertising people because they have "a piece of the artist in them."A million retorts zip through my brain but I say nothing and nod my head.I arrive at The Majestic Hotel. It reminds me of an old lady that uses too much rouge.Cannes itself is strangely calm. Locals mill about; children eat ice cream; boats bob. The only clue to the pending storm is the huge 52nd Cannes sign that drapes over the entrance to the Palais des Festivals.Friday, June 17: The jurors for the Press and Outdoor category gather before judging commences. We look like a kind of Creative United Nations. Hopefully we'll make decisions a little quicker. I give my thoughts on judging criteria and we split into three sub-juries.Everyone is now armed with a scanner not dissimilar to those you find at checkout tills. You point to the bar code on the ad and then to the bar code numbered from one to nine. This registers your score. Soon the room sounds like a Saturday morning shopping spree. And in a way, that's totally appropriate, because the more you go through the work, the more you realize that 90 percent of all advertising is just a commodity.Within half an hour, I'm drowning in a sea of sameness. Most attempts to stand out aren't linked to an idea; they just try to be visually "surprising." So far, this is the year of the squashed bug on a windscreen or 101 ways to dismember various body parts. (Too much CSI?)Saturday, June 18: Another day in the print supermarket. I feel more optimistic about the work I judge. The categories today show a few strong ideas. However, "craft" seems an old-fashioned concept. Nearly all of the work is "press button" art direction; much of it is digitally over-engineered and has a remote-control feel, as if the machines had the final say.Copywriting is now often just type at the bottom of the page. It coughs up a little information but it's never insightful or emotional.The real good news is that the jury has been great. Relaxed and diligent, they disappear into their rooms like old-time prospectors.There has to be gold there somewhere.Sunday, June 19: Starting today, the Film jury is also in play. This leads the Cannes organizers to neatly cut me in half. The morning is spent simultaneously briefing the Film jury while working with the Press and Outdoor jury to achieve a short list. In the middle of all this, someone from Scandinavia, whom I've never met before, phones. He says he has a group with him and they would like a tour of the Palais and a discussion on "the power of print."He is seriously pissed when I decline.The rest of the day has a surreal, blurred quality to it. Yet, by 8 p.m. the TV judging is going smoothly and we've begun to nibble at the Press and Outdoor short list. I end the day with a few press interviews. I'm not sure if the 30-second TV commercial is dying, but I do know the topic has been talked to death.Monday, June 20: The mood in the Press and Outdoor judging room is a little different today. Everyone knows we have to finalize the bronze, silver and gold Lions. We also have to choose the two Grand Prix winners.If jovial tension is possible, then that's what we have. Initially the judging feels a little robotic. I stand up like an auctioneer "Gold, gold, anyone for gold? Silver, silver, do I hear silver? A bronze?"Slowly the room begins to thaw. Discussion begins to flow. "This is not from my country, but not to privilege it with a silver is a crime.""Gold, that's like making love to your client's logo.""At least a bronze! It went into my heart. Pow! Pow!"Occasionally we get a little over-esoteric. I leave the judging pit at 11 p.m. I can't believe it's all done. And most miraculous of all, a lot of the work is great.I need a drink.Tuesday, June 21: I help judge the award of the Young Creatives event. The brief was how to combat illiteracy. That's tough when you consider the medium is print.However, it proves to be a terrific two hours. The award winners are so excited and motivated that they make the rest of us look jaded and world-weary.Wednesday, June 22: Judging TV is completely different than print. The room is dark, except for the light from your Cannes Palm Pilot. Each time you poke your score at it, the machine emits an anguished beep. It sort of becomes your partner in pain.TV is more passive, yet somehow more numbing, than judging print. A lousy TV ad seems to linger longer in your brain than a lousy print ad. I find myself thinking about this as I hand out the awards at the Press and Outdoor ceremony. I look up at the huge screen and feel proud about the work we have chosen. If there are any boos, I don't hear them.Back at the hotel I tell myself this is the most exciting night so far. Cannes awaits—it's time to celebrate. It's paaarty time! Maybe tomorrow.Thursday, June 23: After a painful birthing process, Lions begin to emerge from the short list. There is much discussion. Sometimes it's a passionate plea. "You must understand, soccer is our soul and our lover."Sometimes it's read studiously from typed notes. "In Japan we have a special kind of hotel…." Occasionally it gets heated. "Are we all fucking blind? Is that why we're not giving it a gold?"Mostly, though, everyone keeps an even keel and physical violence seems relatively remote. By the end of the day, everyone is punch drunk. My vague dyslexia is becoming more pronounced. I asked the jurors to stay focused, then give my mobile phone two spoons of sugar instead of my coffee cup. Time to call it a day.Friday, June 24: I can't believe we've finished. We have a good final selection. Particularly the golds. Champagne is served and everyone is friendly. Even more of a miracle, it's still light outside. The jurors group around the drinks table like veterans who've just taken Omaha. Sure, it was tough, but already we're only remembering the good times. A few jurors pretend they are speaking to their mothers as they relate the results to their agencies back home. The big screen in the viewing room looks strangely anemic now that it is just white.Our work at the 52nd Cannes is over.It's time for a drink. And it's not just going to be one.

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Judgment

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