In place of all the fanfare and flashbulbs with which those movies would premiere in Toronto, you have the digital experience, as festival ticket holders can stream the festival’s movies from home. “People are cozying up in front of their big screen TVs or laptop. In some cases, people are liking that even more, because they can do that in their pajamas” said Bailey.
While I own not one, but three PJ tops that I wear regularly out of doors, I take Bailey’s point. But back in my car, watching CGM tussle with CGI, the small screen trying its best to pound me with its nits, the sound piercing through the Volvo’s old stereo speakers, I wasn’t sure I felt cozy, but I did feel something. Something more than Netflix-and-shrill.
Speaking of Netflix, the streaming giant was notably absent from Toronto this year, launching not a single film at the festival (last year, its Oscar contenders The Two Popes and Marriage Story both bowed at TIFF). Toronto has been a fervent supporter of the streaming service (when other festivals like Cannes wouldn’t let their films compete). But while having the acceptance of a festival can mean the difference of serious distribution dollars to smaller films, for a big Netflix film like David Fincher’s upcoming “Mank,” (about the making of Citizen Kane) a festival like Toronto can amount to a junket, and without all those flash bulbs and media attention, it’s just not worth it.
Of course, what’s missing is larger than that. While buzz can migrate online, the reaction Bailey sees when festival -goers sit in a real movie theatre and look up at that giant screen, and hear that giant sound, is irreplaceable, emotional even: “People cry,” he said.
I believe it. Between the glowing screen and Toronto’s skyline, watching the credits roll as viewers honked their horns in appreciation, I felt a dose of that thanks. For TIFF, as well the violent, fun, ungainly art I’d just had the pleasure of swallowing. Without the flash and panache, it’s clear TIFF sees what’s important; getting films to the people and people to the films. The programmers, Bailey, my host and his friend; the staff on the trikes; TIFF: they’re not shedding tears; they’re fighting the monster.