That’s an idea to set tongues wagging at the Cannes Film Festival, and it’s the distinct impression left by Israeli director Ari Folman’s head-spinning part-animated feature “The Congress.”

Fittingly, Cannes provided the inspiration for the director’s dystopian vision of the entertainment business, which stars actress Robin Wright as, well, actress Robin Wright — a 40something performer whose career is on the slide.

Folman conceived the kernel of the film when he came to the festival in 2008 with “Waltz With Bashir,” his Academy Award-nominated animated film about his experiences as a young Israeli soldier in Lebanon in the 1980s.

The director said he was walking through the bustling movie marketplace at Cannes when he saw an elderly woman.

“And my sales agent asked me, do you recognize this lady? And I said no,” Folman said. “And he told me her name and I was shocked, because she was this goddess American actress from the 70s. She was in her 70s, and no one recognized her. And this is Mecca for cinema, this place!

“And I thought, she’s got in front of her, everywhere, the image of her young, stolen forever in the movies. And here she is and she has to live with her image forever young, but she’s getting old.”

Folman diplomatically declined to name the actress. But he said the episode gave him a way to realize a long-held dream of adapting “The Futurological Congress,” a satirical sci-fi novel by Polish writer Stanislaw Lem in which pharmaceutical overlords keep the population hooked on hallucinogenic drugs.

In the movie, Wright agrees to become a “scanned actor,” a digital avatar owned by her studio. The digital Wright can be endlessly, agelessly used in new movies — the studio makes her “Agent Robin” in a sci-fi action series — while the flesh-and-blood person grows old in obscurity.

The film’s live-action first half is an entertainingly bleak depiction of Hollywood, with an on-the-ropes Wright berated by her agent (a delicious Harvey Keitel) and bullied by her studio boss (a malevolent Danny Huston).

Wright has been called brave for taking on issues of aging and image so directly. But Folman said he didn’t see it that way when he offered the role to the actress after sitting across from her at an awards ceremony and thinking she looked sad.

“I think it’s a great role,” he said. “She is Robin Wright, she is Agent Robin in the movie, she’s an animated character, she’s an old Robin at the very end, she sings two songs — it’s a great role.

“Although Harvey Keitel told me one day on the set, ‘Man, she is so brave. You could have offered me the world, I would never do what she does in this movie.’”

Wright has said she doesn’t think she is playing herself, even though she and her screen character share a name and many biographical details, including roles in “The Princess Bride” and “Forrest Gump.”

Once Wright has been digitally scanned, the movie switches to animation as the character visits a conference at a luxury hotel — where her films screen endlessly and she goes unrecognized — and learns of a sinister plot to make the power of celebrity even more addictive.

The movie’s audacious shifts of tone, and its swirling, psychedelically tinged animation, have elicited diverse reactions at Cannes, where “The Congress” opened the Director’s Fortnight competition.

Many saw it as original but uneven. It’s inarguably a strikingly original work by a director who is both amused and despairing about the modern entertainment business.

Folman, a genial, bearded 50-year-old sporting a gold medallion and an earring, says he fears the sort of movies that inspired him — the director-driven American cinema of the 1970s — is dying, soon to be found only in cinema museums.

And don’t get him started on 3-D, CGI and the other digital tricks that, Folman thinks, are ruining movies.

“The role of the director is completely different (today),” he said. “Until recently the urgency on the set to make a movie was huge. Today, it’s only part of the job, because you can fix everything afterwards. The set is blue screens, and then you build it and you can fix it. And sometimes it’s for the good, but I can give you examples where it’s terrible.

“My favourite sci-fi movie ever is ‘Blade Runner.’ This film was done with hand-made crafts.”

For the movie, director Ridley Scott “built the sets — it’s wood and paper and plastic and aluminum. I see this movie every few months on a big screen at home and it will live forever.

“Same guy did ‘Prometheus’ last year. Who saw it?”

Folman is keeping the flame burning for an older form of cinema — but it’s a slow and laborious process. “The Congress” took five years to make, and slightly under an hour of animation required two years of work by animators in nine countries.

“I try not to look at myself as this nostalgic (person),” Folman added, pausing a second before adding: “But.”

“I don’t say we will have scanned actors. I think the human side will win. I am a true believer in that.

“But if I look at my kids and the way they use everything — iPads and electronics and everything — I have to be honest with myself and say, if my kids, in 15 years’ time, see a movie with scanned characters, they won’t give a damn.”

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Jill Lawless can be reached at http://Twitter.com/JillLawless

A former mob lawyer, he promoted his city and himself with antics that lent credibility to his self-given title of “Happiest mayor in the universe.”

Now, two years into a semi-retirement, Goodman has written a memoir about his career representing figures out of Martin Scorsese films, his three terms in office and his continuing role as Sin City’s cheerleader-in-chief.

There are no real bombshells here, but the book reads like a relaxed tour of Las Vegas from the mob era to the present day, with a tipsy gossip by your side.

It’s all part of the continued branding of one of Las Vegas’ most colorful and defining characters.

In “Being Oscar: From Mob Lawyer to Mayor of Las Vegas — Only in America” released by Weinstein Books on Tuesday, Goodman uses the same jocular, unapologetic tone he employed during his martini mayorship.

As mayor, Goodman advocated cutting off the thumbs of graffiti vandals. He secured an official sponsorship from Bombay Sapphire gin.

In the book, the 73-year-old father of four grouses about sneaky FBI tactics, attempts a rapprochement with casino mogul Sheldon Adelson and calls a group of police officers lying pieces of … well, a word politicians outside of this sin-drenched city would be well-advised to avoid.

As is often the case with Goodman, it is difficult to know where the man ends and his persona begins.

On a recent afternoon at the sprawling Las Vegas home he has shared with his wife since 1976, a bearded and bespectacled Goodman acknowledged he may have lost track of that distinction himself.

He said he needed his bluster during his 35 years representing some of the nation’s most notorious mob figures, including Anthony “Tony the Ant” Spilotro, famously portrayed by Joe Pesci in the movie “Casino.”

“It was David and Goliath,” he said. “I walked into court by myself, and there was an entourage of prosecutors against me. I had to have that kind of personality because I could never show any weakness. If I showed weakness, they would eat my clients alive.”

Goodman writes about his efforts to remain apart from his underworld clients. But he did pick up some of their habits and trappings, including a policy against representing “rats” and the dark, pinstripe suits he still wears to this day.

In 1999, Goodman gave up his multimillion-dollar job as an attorney to enter politics, and quickly became one of the most flamboyant and recognizable elected officials in the land.

The Las Vegas mayor’s office is relatively weak — one of seven equal votes on the City Council — but Goodman used the showmanship that served him so well in the courtroom to infuse the position with something approaching rock star status.

He famously demanded an apology from President Barack Obama for speaking derisively about Las Vegas casinos in the context of encouraging belt-tightening, and took steps to establish a mob museum, which now memorializes a part of Las Vegas lore that many would just as soon forget.

Goodman also performed official duties, including the state of the city address, flanked by sequin-drenched showgirls and with a bottomless cocktail within easy reach. Both props make an appearance on the cover of his book.

He writes that these antics were all in the service of his overarching goal: to revitalize downtown, a dilapidated stretch of older casinos a few miles north of the Strip. Goodman is widely acknowledged to have helped bring about the area’s hipster renaissance.

“Because I was the mob lawyer who was turned mayor, people listened, and the phone, which had not rung, began to ring,” he said.

Again, it is difficult to square the hard-drinking persona that Goodman presents with what he was able to accomplish. He writes that while in office, everyone knew not to call him after 5 p.m. because he wouldn’t remember the conversation. He also says he wrote the memoir in longhand, being “completely computer illiterate.”

Not everyone was won over by the Goodman charm.

When he announced his candidacy, the Las Vegas Review-Journal ran an editorial headlined “Anybody but Oscar.”

But through it all, the outlandish comments and habits that would have made him unelectable anywhere else only fed his popularity in Vegas. He was easily re-elected twice, and left office in 2011 after term limits prevented him from making another bid. His wife ran and successfully replaced him.

In his new role as memoirist, Goodman stays true to the mantra of self-indulgence that made him a perfect mascot for his town. Anyone looking for soul-searching and self-reflection will come away empty handed.

“It’s a funny thing when you say it out loud, but I always liked myself,” Goodman writes.

Do readers really need to know a list of his most illustrious classmates at Haverford College in Pennsylvania? His bar exam grade? That he loves his parents very much, and that they helped make him who he is?

Goodman knows the haters are out there, and he doesn’t seem to care.

“I was never in doubt, and I know that bothered some people,” he writes. “It’s who I am.”

Goodman continues to draw adoring crowds as the town’s official ambassador, and spends enough time at official events to spark rumours of a shadow mayorship. The book, he writes, is an effort to stay relevant.

As the clock ticked down toward his five o’clock martini, a collection of Oscar Goodman bobblehead dolls — one of his trademarks — nodded from a bookshelf near the big screen television. Photos of Goodman posing with various dignitaries while holding various drinks winked from the tabletops.

Goodman said there is one trophy he feels he’s still missing: a biopic. But he’s confident his memoir will be turned into a film.

You don’t get to be the happiest mayor in the universe by second-guessing these things.

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Hannah Dreier can be reached at http://twitter.com/hannahdreier.

Mally the Monkey was seized by German customs March 28 when Bieber failed to produce required vaccination and import papers for the animal after landing in Munich. He had until midnight Friday to produce those documents.

Customs spokesman Thomas Meister said after offices opened following a holiday weekend that officials received no documents. He said the customs authority will formally transfer ownership of the animal to the German state on Tuesday.

Bieber will then have six weeks to contest the decision. It wasn’t immediately clear when authorities will make a decision on the monkey’s permanent home.

Mally, a capuchin monkey, has been cared for at Munich’s animal shelter since being taken into quarantine.

Keith issued a statement saying Monday’s tornado in Moore, Okla., devastated the community in which he grew up.

The city has embraced Keith’s celebrity and his name is on the Moore water tower.

Keith says he remembers riding his bicycle through the stricken neighbourhoods. Rescuers are still working to pull people from the rubble in the community that’s southwest of Oklahoma City.

Keith says Moore “is strong and will persevere.”

Rowland and Rubio will be on the show when it starts its third season on Fox this fall. They replace Britney Spears and record producer Antonio “L.A.” Reid.

It’s a reunion for Rowland and Cowell, although American audiences might not know that. She served as a judge for a season on the more successful British version of the music show.

In a news release Monday, Rubio told Cowell to “be careful what you wish for.” She said she wondered if the notoriously cranky judge would be ready to handle her.

Publicist Heidi Robinson-Fitzgerald says in a news release that Manzarek died Monday at the RoMed Clinic in Rosenheim, Germany, surrounded by his family. He had been stricken by bile duct cancer.

Manzarek founded The Doors after meeting then-poet Jim Morrison in California. The band went on to become one of the most successful rock ‘n’ roll acts to emerge from the 1960s and continues to resonate with fans decades after Morrison’s death brought the band to an end.

Julie Hollander, a vice-president and controller of event operations for AEG Live, testified during the trial of a lawsuit filed by Jackson’s mother against AEG claiming the company was negligent in hiring the doctor later convicted in the death of the pop star.

The tally involved expenses compiled through October 2009, roughly three months after the singer’s death, Hollander said.

Budget documents shown in court indicated the company made no payments to the doctor, Conrad Murray.

AEG budgeted $150,000 a month for Murray’s treatment of Jackson, but the singer died of an anesthetic overdose before he signed Murray’s agreement.

Hollander said Murray’s contract was the only one she had ever seen in which an artist had to approve a contract for services on a tour. She believed Jackson’s signature was required because of the personal nature of the doctor’s services.

In total, Murray was projected to receive $1.5 million in payments over the first few months of the “This Is It” tour, which was slated for 50 shows at London’s 02 Arena.

Attorneys for Jackson’s mother are trying to prove that AEG hired Murray and missed numerous red flags about the pop singer’s health before his death.

AEG denies it hired Murray and says it bears no liability for Jackson’s death.

Hollander also testified that Jackson was responsible for 95 per cent of production expenses if his comeback shows were cancelled. Budget documents indicated the production was more than $2 million over budget.

Hollander was the first AEG executive to testify in the lawsuit. The company’s general counsel Shawn Trell began testifying on Monday.

Plaintiff’s attorney Brian Panish questioned Trell about a July letter sent to Jackson’s estate asking for more than $30 million in reimbursement, including $300,000 for Murray’s services.

Trell said it was a mistake to include Murray’s payments as production costs.

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Anthony McCartney can be reached at http://twitter.com/mccartneyAP

The multitalented comedian says on Twitter that he “tried to make it work schedule-wise, but I need sleep.”

MacFarlane said in his tweet Monday that Academy Awards producers Craig Zadan and Neil Meron are among the best in the business. Zadan and Meron produced this year’s Oscar show, which earned higher ratings among coveted younger viewers, and will be returning for the 2014 telecast.

MacFarlane earned mixed reviews for his first outing as Oscar host in February, with some finding his material sexist and anti-Semitic.

The creator of “Family Guy” suggested Oscar producers tap eccentric actor Joaquin Phoenix to host the show.

The Riverdale teen finds his life turned upside down after locking lips with his boyfriend, Devon, in Pop Tate’s diner, drawing the ire of at least one disapproving Riverdale mom.

The woman “gets very offended and kind of pitches a bit of a fit,” said Dan Parent, who writes and draws the issue, “Kevin Keller” No. 10 that is released Aug. 7.

“Kevin is kind of used to that, but Veronica records the whole thing and of course uploads it to the Riverdale equivalent of YouTube and that starts a bit of a debate,” said Parent.

For Archie Comics it’s a bit of art imitating life. Parent said he wrote the story after efforts to remove a comic magazine showing Keller getting married drew at complaints. One Million Moms, a project of The American Family Association, asked Toys R Us not to display “Life With Archie” No. 16 near its checkout aisles. Toys R Us did not, and the issue went on to sell out its print run.

Parent called the new story a “playful poke” at the protest.

Keller debuted in “Veronica” No. 202 in September 2010. It resulted in Archie Comics’ first-ever second printing. It was quickly followed by a four-issue miniseries and the current monthly title.

Publisher and co-CEO Jon Goldwater said the fact that any kiss is being shown in the pages of an Archie Comics book is a step in and of itself.

“There aren’t that many on-panel kisses in the pages of Archie, but you often see the lipstick on Archie’s face afterward,” he said.

Goldwater said Keller’s character has let the company weave in contemporary issues to its imaginary world.

“We certainly pride ourselves on being contemporary, but that’s not the reason why we’re showing ‘The Kiss.’ Just like when Kevin first told Jughead he was gay, it was in the natural course of conversation,” said Goldwater. “We are creating this in the same way. It’s just part of the story.”

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Follow Matt Moore at www.twitter.com/mattmooreap.

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Online:

http://www.archiecomics.com

But during testimony Monday, when she was asked why she nonetheless took Trump to court, Jacqueline Goldberg replied firmly that “Somebody had to stand up to him.”

Goldberg says “The Apprentice” star enticed her into buying two condos at Chicago’s Trump International Hotel & Tower with an offer to share profits of the entire building.

But she told jurors at the civil trial in Chicago that she felt “conned” when Trump withdrew the profit-sharing plan after she bought the condos.

Testifying last week, Trump denied the allegations. He also told reporters that Goldberg was in fact trying to rip him off.