Cannes by Foot, by Boat, and by the Glass

What the World’s Biggest Festival of Creativity Taught Me About the Power of Presence

By Srikanth Ramachandran, Founder & CEO of Moving Walls Group

The 2025 Cannes Lions International Festival of Creativity took place from June 16 to 20 in the postcard-perfect town of Cannes, France. If you work in marketing, advertising, or brand-building, this is the Mecca, the place where creativity is awarded, celebrated, debated, and occasionally even redefined.

As someone who’s been in this industry long enough to have seen trends come and go, Cannes still manages to surprise me. It’s not just a showcase of the boldest work or the glitziest parties. At its best, it’s a reminder of why we’re in this business to connect with people, to shift culture, and to tell stories that matter. 

I arrived in Cannes with a full calendar and high expectations. I left with aching feet, a head full of insights, and a slightly sunburned sense of perspective.

There are many ways to experience Cannes. There’s the main stage version full of panels, award announcements, standing ovations and the echo of applause. But then there’s the Cannes that happens off-script: deals discussed on boats, breakthroughs shared over late-night glasses of rosé, and honest conversations that unfold on long walks between venues. I walked nearly 20,000 steps a day, not chasing content, but leaning into every spontaneous encounter.

“Cannes is more than panels and parties. It’s where creativity walks beside you, talks over rosé, and quietly reminds you why you fell in love with this industry in the first place.”

Surprisingly, it wasn’t always the marketing veterans who delivered the best takeaways. One of the most profound sessions I attended was led by a Formula One driver. He talked not about speed, but about focus, he discipline to wait before accelerating, the patience to observe before acting. In a place like Cannes, where the energy is constant and the schedules are packed, that lesson landed hard. Sometimes, creativity isn’t about going faster. It’s about knowing when to pause.

This year, Brazil stood tall. Crowned the first-ever Creative Country of the Year, Brazil took home 107 Lions, including six Grand Prix and a Titanium. But it wasn’t just the volume of awards that impressed me. It was the nature of the work so much of it lived in the real world, bold outdoor executions, street-level storytelling, physical installations that connected with people where they lived and moved.

And that was a pattern I noticed across many of the most awarded campaigns. From India to Singapore, physical presence, out-of-home, activation, ambient media was front and centre. In an industry often obsessed with pixels and platforms, Cannes reminded us that the power of real-world interaction hasn’t faded. In fact, it’s being reimagined.

That validation felt personal, I’ve long believed that great ideas should live beyond screens in cities, on streets, in shared spaces. When we meet audiences in their world, rather than waiting for them to scroll past us, the result is often more human and more impactful.

My own Cannes journey this year was more grounded quite literally. I skipped the fancy hotels and lived on a boat for six days, sharing the space with two trusted industry allies: Barry Cupples, whose wisdom has steered many of us through uncharted waters, and Vishnu from SledgeHammer, whose infectious energy could power its own agency.

It wasn’t luxurious, but it was perfect. Mornings with coffee on the deck, nights with wine and real talk under the stars. That boat became our floating boardroom, crash pad, and think tank. Even now, weeks later, I can still feel the soft sway when I stand still. It was the kind of rhythm that grounded the entire Cannes experience.

But Cannes, like the industry itself, isn’t without its blind spots. The official Cannes Lions app promised better networking but didn’t deliver. It’s time the festival embraced smarter tools perhaps even AI-powered matchmaking to help creatives find each other beyond the cocktail circuit. Imagine if your journey started at your departure gate at Doha, KLIA, Changi with pop-up lounges or welcome zones curated for connection. Why wait until Nice to start the conversation?

And then there’s the city itself. One evening, after leaving a rooftop gathering, I passed several people begging on the street. It was a sobering moment. Just metres away, Cannes was lit up in luxury, and here was the very real reminder of imbalance. I’m not naive. This is the world we live in. But if we, as creatives, can solve billion-dollar problems for global brands, surely we can spare some imagination and resources for the cities that host our celebrations.

There’s one iconic Cannes experience I didn’t have this year: the Gutter Bar. That infamous late-night hangout has been described as the true heart of Cannes, raw, unfiltered, open till 4 a.m., where the best ideas are scribbled on napkins and reputations are made under neon. I meant to go. I didn’t. Somehow, the timing never lined up.

But I’m oddly glad I missed it. Like the character in The Alchemist who dreams of Mecca but never goes, there’s something beautiful about leaving one story unfinished. It gives me a reason to return.

Cannes is chaotic, energising, and contradictory, a place where billion-dollar ideas are scribbled on the back of a business card, where you’re applauded for a case study at 3 p.m. and debating ethics on a yacht by midnight. It’s where creativity still feels like currency, not in CPMs, but in connections the kind you feel in your bones, not just your inbox.

If you’ve never been, go. If you’ve been many times, go again but slower. You’ll hear more, see more, and maybe remember why you chose this field in the first place. I’ll be back next year. Maybe with a better plan, maybe with better shoes. But definitely with the same hunger for ideas, for perspective, for that unmistakable spark that only Cannes seems to ignite.

And maybe next time, I’ll make it to the Gutter Bar. Or maybe not. Either way, I’ve already taken home the story I came for.