Trash was born at Cannes in 1999, when the idea struck me that the best way to cover this polymorphously perverse festival was through a diary. So it's probably in that environment that my column has thrived most. It coincided with the rise of the "festival circuit", and I was fortunate to have the willing co-operation of the Observer and the festivals themselves in getting to cover so many of them.
I still recall the jolt of a morning vodka with Alan Parker in Moscow where, because his Pink Floyd film The Wall was the most famous bootleg of the Soviet era, he is some kind of deity. Marrakech is a wonderful setting for a film festival and I shall cherish an afternoon with Martin Scorsese there, even though he spilt