By Dave McCoy
MSN Movies

The last time I wore a tux was five years ago ... and I swore I'd never wear one again until my own wedding. See, I'm a journalist and I work for Microsoft. That combination means I dress as comfortably and shabbily as I possibly can. But when the good folks at Paramount Vantage called a few months ago and offered me a ticket to the world premiere of "A Mighty Heart," followed by a special dinner attended by Angelina Jolie, well, forget my wedding! A chance to walk the red-carpeted steps of the Grand Theatre Lumiere and be in the same room with Jolie (and probably Brad Pitt)? Where's the nearest tux shop?

See, when you attend a premiere in Cannes, everyone dresses to the nines. It's mandatory: tuxedos for the boys; gorgeous, sexy, revealing dresses for the girls. Crowds begin lining up two or three hours before a premiere to get a glimpse of their favorite stars. Paparazzi cram into fenced-off pits trying to get the best shots. And as I mentioned last year, women and men, all dressed up with nowhere to go, hang about with signs, begging for a ticket (it's like a Grateful Dead show, minus the patchouli oil and weed).

It's a crazy, unique, wonderful thing ... in theory. Right now, it's 80 degrees in Cannes, and super muggy. It's been that way since Day 1, and though we've had the threat of rain, no relief appears in sight. Eighty degrees, muggy, tux. Do the math. By the time I stepped onto the famed red carpet, I was sweating like a 500-pound man who got locked inside a sauna. It wasn't pretty ... but damn if everyone else didn't look just as uncomfortable. It's quite a scene, let me tell you, and I'd be lying if I didn't admit I was worried about tripping and falling down all 20 stairs.

From left: Director Michael Winter- bottom, Mariane Pearl, Adam Pearl (front), Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt (Chris Ashford/Camera Press/Retna Ltd)

Once inside and seated, the audience can watch the movie screen as others enter the theater. Oh, there's Gérard Depardieu. Oh, hey, there is ... some random, stunning model who thinks she's a star and is taking 10 minutes to walk up the steps. Hey, there's a wrinkly old French dude who must be someone important because everyone is kissing him. Ah, OK, here we go ... Angelina and Brad. People went nuts. The pair looked incredible (painfully so ... I mean, it's unnatural) and now I'll play the role of fashion critic: Brad was stunning in his black tuxedo, hair cut short and styled like Cary Grant. Angelina, hair pulled back, looked statuesque in a black dress made by some designer for some ridiculous price that could feed the entire population of a Third-World country. Sorry, best I can do for you, folks. Ain't my bag.

When they finally made their way into the theater, they received a heroes' welcome from the thousands that packed it (by this point, I had lost 27 pounds and was swimming in my rented, shiny shoes). There was someone else there too ... who was it? Oh, right. Mariane Pearl and her son, Adam. They are the subjects of "A Mighty Heart" (you thought I'd forgot about the movie, didn't you?) and when I saw them, I suddenly realized how yucky this whole fashion parade was.

You all know the story of Wall Street Journal scribe Daniel Pearl. Of how, in January 2002, he was kidnapped while following a lead in Karachi, and how several weeks later, he was beheaded, setting off a string of post-Sept. 11 journalist deaths (230 and rising) in the Middle East region. "A Mighty Heart" is based of Mariane Pearl's memoir, which details those weeks she spent trying to find her husband and the chaos of the region. It's a stirring work dedicated to Adam to show him the kind of man his father was, because they would never meet.

Although I agree celebration is in order for getting this story on the big screen, against the context of premiere night in Cannes and the celebrity obsession ... I don't know. It just felt wrong.

But to the movie. It's made by Michael Winterbottom, who's crafted films in nearly every genre ("The Claim," "Jude," "24 Hour Party People," "Tristram Shandy: A Cock and Bull Story") and has taken on political subject matter several times (though I'd argue poorly and in a heavy-handed manner) with "The Road to Guantanamo" and "Welcome to Sarajevo." "A Mighty Heart" is far better than those last two films, though not without its own serious flaws.

The entire film covers the weeks between the kidnapping of Pearl (played mostly in flashback by Dan Futterman) until his eventual death -- a technique that is always tricky. How do you keep an audience engaged in a story to which they know the ending, especially one as tragic and brutal as this? Winterbottom pulls it off by creating a dizzying, confusing, fast-paced mystery, mostly without sentimentality, that reveals layers and layers of international deceit and deception. And most importantly, he has Jolie. In easily her finest performance, Jolie the pop-culture figure loses herself inside the role of Pearl. Mariane is of Cuban and French descent, and when you put the two women side by side, you'd never think Jolie could pull it off. But she does. Her hair is curly, complexion changed and she's pregnant the entire film. While the world spins out of control around her, Pearl (and Jolie) remains centered and the film becomes as much about a wife's love for her husband as the evil surrounding them. But it's also here that Winterbottom and screenwriter John Orloff make their biggest mistake: As the film moves forward, Mariane Pearl becomes more a saint than human. She is allowed no flaws in the film to the point where it threatens the validity of the circumstances (a final speech she gives, postmurder, to a group that helped try to find Daniel is the type of stuff Oscar voters may love but is unnecessary and slightly embarrassing).

That said, the film is still quite effective and moving and infuriating. And the sold-out audience loved it. Pearl and Jolie received a standing ovation that lasted well past five minutes. They both deserve it in their own ways.

My (Non) Dinner With Angie

"But Angie, Angie, ain't it good to be alive?
Angie, Angie, they can't say we never tried"
-- Rolling Stones

So, I mentioned the special dinner above. Well, sorry readers, but it didn't happen. It suddenly went from small dinner with some journalists to cast and crew only. I'd love to tell you some great anecdotes about Brad and Angelina, but it's not going to happen. In all honesty, though, I wasn't that upset. For starters, I suffered through a lunch with the press while attending the Coen Brothers' roundtable, and I certainly couldn't endure that awkwardness again. But more importantly, I had to get out of that tux and back into my normal, casual, tasteless lifestyle.

A demain ...

Wednesday: Sorry I didn't get to Gus Van Sant's "Paranoid Park" like I promised yesterday. I'll cover it and several other movies tomorrow.

Dave McCoy is lead editor for MSN Movies. He'll file daily dispatches from Cannes through May 28.

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