Last month a slew of Cannes-attending journalists and critics raved about Alejandro G. Inarritu and Emmanuel Lubezski‘s Carne y Arena, a virtual reality Mexican immigrant experience. It happened inside a hangar at the Cannes Mandelieu airport. Here’s my reaction piece, posted on 5.18.17. Everyone said the same things — immersive, visceral, jolting, head-turning, thought-provoking, unforgettable, etc.
The basic drill is “you’re really there” in the sense that you’re not watching but living it on your feet…feeling the vibe, smelling the fear, grappling with the trauma of getting busted and pushed around deep down. Border guards yelling and pointing guns as you stand barefoot on the cool desert sand at dawn, and then you drop to your knees with your hands on your head.
A longterm engagement of the exact same experience will debut at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art three days hence — i.e., Sunday, 7.2. It’ll cost $45 a pop if you’re not a LACMA member, student or senior. But in sharp contrast to the celebrated Cannes installation, there’s been zero promotion behind the LACMA thing. I’m guessing this is because the LACMA installation can only accommodate one person at a time (the experience lasts 6 1/2 minutes), and that the costs of presenting it will far outweigh whatever income might result so no one wants to spend too lavishly.
I understand that, but I wanted to experience it a second time and this time bring Tatyana, whom I tried to escort to the Cannes installation before being told by the IDPR guys that there was a strict “no friends or partners, only credentialed journos” policy in place. Alas, I was just told by the IDPR guys yesterday that there’ll be no assistance in visiting the LACMA thing, and if I want to catch it again I should just fork over the $45 ($90 for two of us) like anyone else. Okay, fine, but how about allowing me to see it sooner rather than later, without having to arrange my own visit from the back of the line like the rest of the citizens? Nope — you’re on your own, I was essentially told. Okay, fine. But in retrospect I wish they hadn’t been so strict in Cannes about not letting journos bring girlfriends.