In what will hopefully end up as my stupidest move at the Cannes market this year, on Monday I went to a buyers screening of a film called Sex and Breakfast. The suspiciously unspecific description in the Marche guide: “Two couples uncover what it takes to achieve a long-term romance while maintaining a healthy and satisfying sexual relationship.” Just from those two scraps of information, we can immediately deduce that this film is one of two things: A) so-bad-its-good Euro softcore, or B), not-quite-bad-enough to be so-bad-it’s-good throat clearing from a first-time American indie filmmaker who hasn’t yet figured out that working one’s personal sexual fantasies out on celluloid really only befits aged masters (and most of the time even then, it’s questionable.)

Since I knew that Sex and Breakfast was in English, I knew from the start that it almost definitely fell into the “B” camp. So why waste my time? Three words: Starring Macaulay Culkin.

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