You loved it or you hated it: the response to Jane Campion's Bright Star, about the love affair between John Keats and Fanny Brawne, was mixed on the Croisette. The pro camp – who were much more numerous than I first expected, with the film, at the time of writing, heading up the critics' poll in Screen magazine – loved the cinematography, the pacing, the gently, sweetly pitched relationships. Those in the anti camp were, perhaps pedantically, irritated by Fanny's anachronistically inexhaustible supply of new frocks; the fact that daffodils and spring leaves were in shot when the characters were discussing the imminent approach of autumn; and that some of the butterflies supposedly caught by Fanny's siblings on Hampstead Heath were, absurdly, tropical species, native to Venezuela and Brazil. For me that bit of nonsense struck such a false note it made me irritated with the film tout court – a shame.

On Friday night, meanwhile, festival-goers had the treat of watching Powell and Pressburger's immortal classic, The Red Shoes, introduced by Martin Scorsese and his editor, Thelma Schoonmaker, who is Michael Powell's widow. But that was not the only tribute at Cannes to the British film-makers. Scorsese's compatriot and rival, Francis Ford Coppola, has a scene in his new film Tetro in which a pair of brothers, played by Vincent Gallo and Alden Ehrenreich, reminisce about the latter watching The Red Shoes as a boy - which then cuts into a long quote from The Tales of Hoffmann. Ignored and overlooked during their declining years, Powell and Pressburger are now taking the place in the cinema pantheon that they so richly deserve.