Feminism is always the main course at Kering’s Women in Motion dinner, but no one was expecting Julianne Moore to unleash a battle cry of a speech during what is typically a glamorous but uneventful annual event at the Cannes Film Festival.

“This is something that makes me crazy: There’s a cultural assumption, particularly in the United States, that women’s stories are less interesting or smaller, or that if we’re at the center of a narrative we need to be stronger or accomplishing something great or doing something particularly male if we want men to watch us,” said Moore, accepting an award for her career and her advocacy for gender representation in film. 

“And I think that’s untrue,” she continued, “because I think, ‘What about the female audience? What do they want to watch?'”

Moore was dressed in a high-necked white silk jumpsuit, and carrying a clutch the size of a briefcase also covered in white feathers, which had the effect of making her seem like a very luxe astronaut visiting this tent in a castle overlooking the French Riviera to dole out valuable advice on how to be an all-encompassing advocate for women artists. 

“I f— ing love actresses,” said Moore, who was on a roll. “I love to look at them. I love to identify with them. I choose a lot of what I watch based on who I’m going to look at for two hours.” Then, she seemed to make eye contact with her fellow redhead in the room: “Looking at you, Isabel Huppert.” 

In her daily life, she said, she always looks to women. She seeks women out for advice. She notices them on the subway, in elevators. She reads books about women. Everyone who represents her — manager, agent, etc.. — is a woman, as is everyone in her yoga group. “When my kids were little, I told them, ‘If you’re ever lost or in trouble, look for a lady. She will help you,’” Moore said.

This doesn’t mean she has something against men, she went on, but simply that she wants to celebrate the female point of view. 

She also wanted to debunk the notion of women feeling invisible after a certain age. It felt like a self-fulfilling myth. Maybe someone said it once and then others started repeating it, to the point where it felt true. “I’m always curious about that narrative,” she said. “I want to know where they feel invisible, why they feel invisible, and have we been cultured to only be seen by a particular audience, or to only value that gaze?” Moore said. 

“We need more female voices in our industry, more writers, more directors, more actresses to carry that vision of what we see,” she concluded. 

As soon as Moore ended, the whole room burst into applause.  

She was in good company. Salma Hayek, who founded this event ten years ago with the support of her husband, and Kering president, François-Henri Pinault, was acting like the night’s cruise director, with a gigantic plume of white feathers springing out of her left shoulder from her form-fitting white dress.

She corralled Demi Moore, Chloe Zhao and Ruth Negga into photographs, and then bounced around the room chatting with allies like Stellan Skargård, Rami Malek, and Diego Calva, who’s the love interest in Jordan Firstman’s Club Kid, the runaway hit of the festival just snatched up by A24 worldwide in a reported 8-figure deal. Firstman, meanwhile, was seated next to Odessa A’zion, his costar on HBO’s I Love L.A., as the two of them danced in their seats every time the DJ played a banger. 

Colman Domingo meanwhile, was wearing an ornate octopus from Boucheron fashioned from white gold, diamonds, and mother of pearl, over his right ear, plus a sparkling beaded jacket and a Boucheron ring nicknamed “The Address” because it’s so big it needs its own zip code.

The whole getup was so sparkly and fabulous that guests kept coming over to take pictures of the octopus on the side of his head, which was entirely the point. 

“I mean, if we can bring even more attention to supporting women in film, great!” he said “That’s why I’m like really stunting full-out tonight.”