Stroll through the lower level of the Palais des Festivals at the Cannes Film Festival, and you can't help but bump into the Ecumenical Jury Stand – prominently positioned on the corner of Row 13. Throughout the festival, that stand is as a beehive of activity. Respected by critics and filmmakers alike, the Ecumenical Jury has been part and parcel of the Cannes Film Festival for the past 34 years.

More often than not, the awards given by the Ecumenical Jury bear the same distinction, the same respect, the same mark of excellence as those handed out by the festival's FIPRESCI International Critics Jury. In fact, on some occasions in the past, when the decisions of the Ecumenical and FIPRESCI Juries have overlapped, the respective awards were handed out jointly to the winning filmmaker.

Composed of six jury members – three appointed by SIGNIS (World Catholic Association for Communication) and three by INTERFILM (International Interchurch Film Organization) – the Ecumenical Jury can look back on some remarkable achievements in its bid to support quality productions by visionary filmmakers.

One look at the record confirms its status as a respected voice in active support of films that "touch the spiritual dimension of our existence, expressing the values of justice, human dignity, respect for the environment, peace and solidarity." In other words, "these values, shared in all cultures, are those of the Christian Gospel."

During its early years at Cannes, the Ecumenical Jury invited such celebrated filmmakers as Poland Krzysztof Zanussi and Hungary's Imre Gyöngyössy to serve as jury members. Zanussi was jury president in 1983, when Andrei Tarkovsky's Nostalghia (Italy) was awarded the Ecumenical Prize.

In the recent past, the Ecumenical Jury has awarded two films directed by Iranian filmmakers: Mohsen Makhmalbaf's Kandahar (Iran/France, 2001) and Samira Makhmalbaf's At Five in the Afternoon (Iran/France, 2003). Shot in Afghanistan, both films pleaded in exacting times for more tolerance and understanding among peoples and cultures.

Moreover, while Kandahar and At Five in the Afternoon made history at Cannes, their awards by the Ecumenical Jury also boosted their chances for broader distribution around the globe.

Over the years, the Ecumenical Jury at Cannes has continually awarded outstanding films that reflect not only the ever evolving standards of film art, but also the spiritual pursuit of talented filmmakers as they seek meaningful answers to existence in today's complex world. Its openness to social, cultural and religious diversity is reflected in its decisions.

To mention just a few: Theo Angelopoulos's Eternity and One Day (Greece, 1998, Golden Palm winner), Shinji Aoyama's Eureka (Japan, 2000), Aki Kaurismäki's The Man Without a Past (Finland, 2002), Walter Salles's Motorcycle Diaries (Brazil, 2004), Michael Haneke's Caché (Hidden) (Austria/France, 2005), Alejandro González Iñárritu's Babel (Mexico/USA, 2006), and Fatih Akin's The Edge of Heaven (Germany/Turkey, 2007).

True, all these Ecumenical Jury award winners were also heralded in the media as authentic works of film art. But even so, they can be described as films that strove to define the very meaning of life itself.

The same is pretty much true of other films awarded by an Ecumenical Jury at key international festivals throughout the year – at Berlin, Locarno, Karlovy Vary, Montreal, Mannheim-Heidelberg, Kiev, Leipzig, Leipzig, Oberhausen, Cottbus, Zlin, Plzen, Yerevan, to name just the first dozen or so that come to mind.

Indeed, Hans Hodel, Swiss festival coordinator at Interfilm, takes pride in annually adding a new festival to his list for both Ecumenical and Interfilm jury work. He notes, too, how often Interfilm Awards at specialized festivals – like Saarbrücken, a German-language event, or Lübeck, a Scandinavian showcase – are publicized on EuroNews and other media outlets.

Considering the heavy screening schedule, plus other demanding protocol challenges to be met at Cannes, how does the Ecumenical Jury then manage to get the job done? To say nothing of arriving at cross-cultural decisions in regard to film entries that puzzle even the most astute of film critics?

One reason is its organizational acumen.

Ms. Denyse Muller, based in nearby Arles and a key member of the Interfilm Board of Directors, knows Cannes like the back of her hand. Not just the inner workings of the festival, but also its traditional values as a major showcase of film art. This year, she and her SIGNIS colleague Jos Horemans welcomed six jury members from France, Germany, Canada, Lebanon and the Czech Republic.

Another reason is its commitment to the spiritual dimension in the cinema.

The Ecumenical Prize at Cannes 2008 was awarded to Atom Egoyan's Adoration (Canada), a film that explores cultural intolerance and misinformation. "Adoration invites us to re-evaluate existing cliches about the Other or that which is foreign in our own culture and religion," the Ecumenical Jury stated in its declaration.

On hand personally to receive the Ecumenical Prize, Atom Egoyan was effusive in his acceptance speech. "I am overwhelmed by this prize because it places my film in another context," he said. "Adoration is an intimate film that's very much rooted in my culture. The jury got the movie."

Eleven years ago, back in 1997, the Toronto-based, Armenian-Canadian filmmaker was also awarded the Ecumenical Prize for The Sweet Hereafter.
 
Shortly, Denyse Muller will be on her way to attend the Yerevan "Golden Apricot" International Film Festival. There she will see Atom Egoyan again – provided he is not directing an opera in Toronto.
 
Indeed, serving on an Ecumenical Jury does have its rewards. But that, too, is why its dedicated members are so good at their job.

During my four decades on the festival circuit, I have seldom met a fest director who couldn’t resist the temptation to slap his dates atop the schedule of a rival whenever that festival is rumored to be holding better program playing cards.

The examples are legion: Cannes vs Venice in the 1950s. Berlin vs Cannes in the 1980s. Rotterdam vs Berlin in the 1990s. Moscow vs St. Petersburg. Sochi vs Moscow and St. Petersburg. Year by year, over and over again. Festival spats multiplied to the highest power.

Even bitter quarrels inside festivals count as “friendly head-butting” wars: Cannes Competition vs Directors Fortnight, beginning in 1970. Berlinale Competition vs International Forum of New Cinema, beginning in 1971. Soviet Goskino vs Dom Kino Directors, beginning in 1975.

Some festival wars made history. Others were opera buffa. All, however, were welcome copy for the journalist gristmill.

For instance....

Back in the days of the Cold War, when Europe was split down the middle between East and West, festival one-upmanship between the two diametrically opposed systems was common practice. One rather infamous case occurred in July of 1972: click on Karlovy Vary versus Pula for the whole story.

For three decades, from 1959 to 1989, the biannual Moscow International Film Festival (MIFF) ruled supreme as the kingpin of all Soviet film events. It was the official festival showcase of power and policy at Goskino, the USSR State Committee for Cinematography. In 1983, a revolution was brewing – with good reason. The Union of Soviet Filmmakers was fedup with Goskino’s tricky „package deals“ on the international festival circuit. Click on Goskino versus Union of Soviet Filmmakers for that story.

Triggered by earthquake decisions made by the charismatic Mikhail Gorbachev in the mid-1980s, an astonishing chain of political and cultural events inundated the Soviet Union and Socialist Europe like a dam-breaking flood. Overnight, film festivals in the Soviet Union multiplied like split atoms. Upstart versus the birthplace of Russian cinema: click on Moscow versus St. Petersburg for a walk through the intrigue.

One evening, while attending the 2004 St.Petersburg festivals, my wife and I were deep in conversation with the city cultural minister, I was tapped on the shoulder by a translator friend to meet another American guest just in from the Moscow film festival: Meryl Streep.

I mentioned that I knew a friend of hers, who had once directed her in a stage production of Dostoyevsky’s Crime and Punishment at the Yale Repertory Theatre. And how much Polish stage-and-screen master Andrzej Wajda liked working with her and Christopher Lloyd on that production.

From there, the conversation shifted to Robert Brustein and Alexander Sokurov and Vera Kholodnaya. She had recently seen Sokurov’s one-shot Russian Ark (2003), which she called „a visual treat.“ Since I had contributed to a documentary about the making of that film, Knut Elstermann’s In One Breath: Alexander Sokurov’s Russian Ark (2003), we were now on safe conversational ground.

And since Meryl Streep had also seen Nikita Mikhalkov’s Slave in Love (1976), a camouflaged ode to pre-Revolution silent cinema, I could pull Vasily, my longtime interpreter friend, into the conversation.

The story of Vera Kholodnaya (1893-1918), the great Russian silent screen star, is touched upon only superficially in Mikhalkov’s Slave of Love, for in the mid-1970s “Tsarist cinema” was still a matter only for the book shelves.

“We’re just now beginning to appreciate her great talent,” said Vasily. “And others in that splendid pre-Revolution silent era.”

Festival wars can spawn memorable get-togethers.