“Everyone has to put the film first. If anyone in your cast or crew is on drugs, well… They’re not putting the film first,” James L. Brooks says solemnly from the stage, holding my gaze with an unblinking urgency.

This was his answer to my question, how to know, as a producer, when to stop pushing for a film to be made. The other panelists included Juno producer, Lianne Halfon - the only woman, and you bet I mentioned that I was grateful to see her up there - Daniel Lupi, PTA’s right-hand guy, looking as if his milkshake had been drunk right up, and a duo who'd been involved in Best Picture Winner from a few years before, Chicago.

Heath Ledger had been found unresponsive a week before. A soft, full silence held the air for a minute. I nodded and walked along the aisle back to my seat, the plush carpet muffling each step. There were so many venues here. I sat down, absorbing the approving glance from my film studies teacher, the absolute coolest woman on the planet.

Afterwards, I took the opportunity to join a couple talking animatedly outside. Todd had been ahead of me in the queue, asking a question about why elder actresses, like Julie Christie, weren't getting more parts. Sharon, somehow not sweating in a black suit, spoke loudly and warmly. I complimented Todd on his question, he on mine. He looked like he could have been in the background of the party in Annie Hall. Sharon was a producer of creative works that focused on complex female stories. They both noted that my accent was cute. Then we were just three festival delegates chatting shop in the sunshine. I took their business cards. I made a note to get my own business cards.

It was the third day of our trip. Thirty or so of us A-Level film and media students corralled by the four teachers in the department. Most of us had broken through the swooning jet lag but not in time to stay awake for the whole running time of a Korean action film. We strolled around the bougie but beautiful town, enjoying the exchange rate, taking timer photos of ourselves posing in sunglasses with our fully charged digital cameras. We thought about what we'd call our Facebook albums. We had no access to the internet. It was significantly easier to be vegan here than at home. One of us met Olivia Wilde, promoting a film she'd made with her Italian aristocrat husband.

Another ran into Cate Blanchett, heavily pregnant, as she left the bathroom before taking to the stage for a Q&A. He looked beatific. But then, she emitted light. I've not seen anyone with this literal luminescence before or since. She took a moment to say Heath's name out loud. The audience ruptured into applause. I cried. It was all so close.

And I needed to be closer.