TIFFing it up

Some reports from my first ever- and hopefully not last ever- TIFF.

It's the festival of plenty, whether it's by crowds, film choices, ticket prices or celebrities, the last of which I haven't yet spotted any. But film choices, holy heck. There are 288 features this year; remarkably, less- by one- than last year. When I got the schedule of films to see, my eyes widened and my brain kind of went into sleep mode, producing a thought that was something along the lines of, "guhhh." How on earth was I ever supposed to whittle it down to what would be good? Hours of googling, that's how.

So, in front of my computer, on my phone, and nose buried in the festival guide, I finally made my choices and second choices, in case the former didn't work out. And thanks to my due diligence, I haven't been disappointed. I may have also seen next year's Osca Best Picture winner, but that's still months away.

It's also the festival of snobbishness and pretension. Case in point: I was at TIFF Bell Lightbox waiting for Young and Beautiful to start when I idly paid attention to a guy on the main level greeting his acquaintances. "[NAME]! What's happening? [NAME]! What's happening? [NAME]! What's happening?" I wanted to tell him what'd be happening with my fist, but I didn't think it'd be a good idea to start a scuffle on the first day.

It only got better when I found out who my seatmate to the left of me was (insert sarcasm here; not even in the mood for edgy facetiousness). The houselights had dimmed, the numerous production companies' names were flashing across the screen...and a Paul Bunyon-like character lumbered his way across the row, bumping everyone's knees unapologetically. Plopping down into the seat beside me, he leaned over and whispered, "Is this the German film?" "Sorry?!" I whispered back. He stared at me, then chuckled. "I thought you were my wife!" he exclaimed, a little too loudly for what was supposed to be a hushed atmosphere. And then, during the movie, right up until it froze (the screen went black and the subtitles froze, but the audio kept going just fine), he was talking to his wife the entire gosh darn time!

He was a really smart cookie when the techs were trying to fix the movie, too. A woman came out and apologized, saying, "We're not trying to leave you in the dark", and Mr. Bunyon beside me called out- several times!- "But you are!" Hurdy hur hur. The movie eventually came back, and my seat neighbour resumed his chattiness with his wife until I finally couldn't take it anymore. "Your talking is a little distracting," I whispered. "Oh," he nodded. "Thanks for saying something!" (What?)

So there was that, but more distressing to see was how many people had no qualms about walking out at any time before the movies ended. I mean, I know they have to review the movies, but that's just plain rude. It's a privilege being allowed to review the festival, and evidently one they're so far removed from initially earning that they've completely forgotten about it. Or maybe that's just me being sensitive and thinking that if you're going to enter something, you sit there until it's finished.

But on the flip side, I've already talked to some really cool people. In line today, I was talking to one woman who flies around everywhere and was seeing the movies "to enjoy them"; she also helped me out during many of my sleep-deprived memory lapses when we talked to this girl who was so determined to see Blue is the Warmest Color, she had a five-hour wait in front of her. That's...dedication?

And in line for Gravity, which I ended up not being able to see on account of the place filling up (knew it!), I ended up chatting with two really cool guys who run this website called Film Colossus. Check it out; it's light and breezy, and they deliver movie reviews in an easy-to-read way. They also made the hour+ wait in line go by a little better, so kudos to you guys :)