Ten media outlets reviewed the film—four awarded it three stars, while six granted it four stars.
To put this into perspective:
Four stars signify excellence.
Three stars indicate a good review.
Two stars suggest an average film.
One star denotes a poor film.
Zero stars indicate a complete failure.
At Cannes, three stars serve as the threshold for distinction—films rated above this mark automatically attract attention. Meanwhile, two stars act as the dividing line between excellence and mediocrity. Anything below two stars is often considered an unfortunate misstep.
Ultimately, "Drunken Country Ballads" emerged as an exceptional work, receiving no negative reviews. On a four-star scale, its average score reached an impressive 3.6—tying with "Adele's Life" for the highest rating in the magazine's history. The identical distribution of three- and four-star reviews only added to the frenzy surrounding the film.
As a comparative benchmark, Cannes had reached its eighth day, yet only two films had managed to secure a score above three stars.
The Impact of the Reviews
"'Drunken Country Ballads' is more deserving of a Grammy than an Oscar. The film has its flaws, but the soundtrack is an absolute revelation," Emily read aloud from a review, prompting laughter. "But of course, who can say no to Renly Hall?"
"That must be from the British 'Daily Telegraph,' right?" Mark Lacante, a tall and lanky critic, chimed in. "Tim Robey must have written that."
Mark first encountered Renly at the Berlin Film Festival. Initially, he ran an inconsistent film blog, but after taking it seriously, he received an invitation to Cannes, solidifying his status as a film critic.
Emily, surprised, nodded. "How did you know?"
"He was at the premiere with me last night. He sat there afterward, completely spellbound. I thought he'd give it four stars, but only three? What a fraud!" Mark declared, earning another round of laughter.
At first, there were only four people in the discussion. Before long, the group had grown to at least twenty, all eager to share their opinions.
Emily's voice took on a playful tone. "Here's the funniest review—from the 'Bangkok Post.' It reads: 'A Coen Brothers film is like a man vacationing in Paris who eats McDonald's every night because it's all he knows. So why bother making it?'"
The group burst into laughter, clapping in amusement. The comment, while biting, had an underlying truth: "Drunken Country Ballads" deliberately embraced a minimalist approach, navigating a simple equation of storytelling. Those who had seen the film understood the deeper meaning behind the critique.
The Discussion Expands
The buzz surrounding "Drunken Country Ballads" was not confined to critics. Across from the Cinema Palace on Binhai Avenue, conversations about the film continued to escalate.
Meanwhile, Nathan read the same review aloud to a different audience. Seated next to him, Joel Coen—enjoying his breakfast—shrugged and quipped, "Yeah, why make it? That's like saying, 'We all know life ends in death, so why bother living?'"
Ethan Coen shook his head. "Joel, you should allow others to criticize."
Joel, exaggerating his French accent, replied, "Of course, I allow criticism. But critics should also allow my rebuttal. That's only fair, isn't it?" He directed his rhetorical question at Renly, who chuckled.
Rather than answer directly, Renly turned to Nathan. "I'd expect a two-star or one-star review based on that comment. Are you sure about the rating?"
Nathan held up the magazine for all to see. "I don't know. He actually gave it three stars." He paused, then speculated, "Maybe he felt pressured because everyone else rated it so highly?"
"Or maybe it's a misprint?" Nathan added hesitantly.
"Why not just admit it—he couldn't resist Renly's charm?" Roy interjected.
Surprisingly, both Kerry and Joel nodded in agreement. Across the table, Justin nearly choked on his fries, struggling to contain his laughter.
Renly smirked and shot Justin a knowing look. "Since it's three stars, we'll take it. The audience can judge for themselves."
Managing Expectations
Andy chimed in, "Everyone has their own perspective. Personally, I think this film deserves a perfect score. Speaking of which—where are the four-star reviews? Why haven't we read those yet?"
Roy, sitting across from Andy, sighed, while Andy shot him a warning glare before feigning indifference. Both had spent the previous night battling anxiety.
Andy had been especially restless, knowing that festival evaluations could be unpredictable. He feared "Drunken Country Ballads" might receive a polarizing reception like last year's "Detachment," which had earned extreme reactions. Given Renly's skyrocketing career and the ongoing "Oscar Curse" debate, every detail mattered. Some believed Renly's rise had hit a ceiling after "Edge of Tomorrow," while others anticipated a breakthrough with "Gravity." His market value and industry standing were at stake.
Fortunately, the official scores had eased their worries. Awards were an entirely different matter—jury decisions were unpredictable and unmanageable, unlike the Academy Awards, where PR strategies could influence outcomes.
The Unpredictability of Cannes
History had proven that festival awards could be entirely subjective. At the 44th Cannes Film Festival in 1991, jury president Roman Polanski—known for "Chinatown" and "The Pianist"—was reportedly unimpressed by the competition lineup. Halfway through the festival, he complained to the selection committee, "With this list, what do you expect me to choose?"
Then, on the penultimate day, the Coen Brothers premiered "Barton Fink." Polanski, finally satisfied, deemed it a masterpiece. The next day, it swept three major awards: the Palme d'Or, Best Actor, and Best Director, launching the Coens into stardom.
At the Oscars, nominations depend on merit, while wins rely on luck. The same applies to the major European festivals—perhaps even more so.
For "Drunken Country Ballads," securing the highest magazine rating in Cannes history was already a monumental achievement.