TIFF attracts tons of stars. Is there still room for indie filmmakers?
Toronto International Film Festival is still vital for independent Canadian movies, industry insiders say
The Toronto International Film Festival is one of the most prestigious film festivals in Canada. It's the largest in North America, and it's even listed among the "big five" — the most important, and most famous, film showcases the world has to offer.
And one of the main benefits of TIFF was there from the outset. It was founded in 1976 as "the Festival of Festivals" by Henk Van der Kolk, Bill Marshall and Dusty Cohle, who were largely looking to create an avenue for Canadians to showcase their work.
With the dominance of American studios — and the then even more anemic Canadian film industry — none of them saw a way to actually do that in this country. The solution was to bring buzzier, foreign films to Toronto to attract interest, then capitalize on it by featuring Canadian movies alongside the glitzier Hollywood offerings.
"We needed to get noticed. How the hell do we get the world to realize we're here, and how do we get a Canadian film industry?" Van der Kolk told the National Post in 2015. "That's why it started, really."
But after a slew of COVID and strike-hobbled years, is TIFF finally back to its usual celebrity romp that brings eyeballs and big opportunities for up-and-coming Canadians? Filmmakers and industry members certainly hope so. They say the festival is vital for producing and promoting independent Canadian movies.
The people's festival
As a festival, TIFF kicked into high gear a few years after its launch — particularly after the potential censoring of the film In Praise of Older Women caused a huge crowd to descend on the unaltered premiere at the 1978 festival.
Hollywood began to take notice and the festival grew, eventually changing its name to the current TIFF moniker in 1994.
Though the festival routinely tempts some of the biggest stars in the world to the city, Canadian filmmakers continue to express their appreciation for having a showcase like TIFF in their own backyard.
Jennifer Holness is one of them. As a producer and filmmaker from Etobicoke, Ont., her first feature Love, Sex and Eating the Bones won the 2003 TIFF award for best Canadian first feature film alongside her co-director and husband Sudz Sutherland.
Along with the cash prize, the filmmakers were celebrated in a space that included legitimate superstars and gave them a reason to believe in themselves.
"That early affirmation and support for the work allowed us to go around the globe, in America in particular, as Black artists and have a body of work that people took serious," Holness said. "That people saw us as filmmakers and as artists — it really cemented our ability to go and negotiate."
That opportunity opened a window into the industry for Holness and others — as well as allowing them access to the "informal market" of collaborators, potential partners and buyers without having to take a trip through international customs.
"I think if TIFF didn't exist, I don't know if we would have been able to sustain our careers."
Hollywood draw
One of the reasons many bigger films make the trip to Toronto is because TIFF has more and more become an awards bellwether. With the exception of 2011's Where Do We Go Now?, every winner of the festival's People's Choice Award since 2008 has been at least nominated for best picture at the Academy Awards.
Matt Beloni, the former editor of The Hollywood Reporter and founding partner of media news outlet Puck, says it's more than just a coincidence.
Toronto's reputation as "the people's festival" is supported by a comparatively stronger influence of audience reaction than media coverage when compared to other festivals. A strong showing at TIFF can effectively buoy the performance of a film that might otherwise sink beneath the waves.
He pointed to last year's American Fiction, as an example.
Heading into the festival, it had been hampered by reshoots and re-edits — signs that its producers were less than confident. While that could have led to the film being buried, Beloni says the fact that it premiered at TIFF to a strong audience reaction changed the narrative.
"That movie went all the way to the Oscars and won best adapted screenplay," he said. "That is a TIFF success story, and Hollywood studios are looking for that kind of trajectory from the movies they play at TIFF."
But the part of TIFF's framework that uses Hollywood stars to draw attention to smaller independent films has been challenged in recent years. After in-person events at the festival were cancelled due to the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020, a hybrid festival followed the next year — meaning less buzz and fewer big films to draw interest.
It fully re-opened to the public in 2022, though media coverage was somewhat reduced when Queen Elizabeth's death was announced on opening day. Then in 2023, the Hollywood actors' strike kept all but a few celebrities away from the festival.
It was this series of hurdles that the festival cited in its December decision to cut 12 full-time staff members.
Return to form
Paired with a general sinking of Canadian arts institutions (particularly Canada's other internationally renowned film festival, Hot Docs), TIFF head Cameron Bailey admitted that the past several years temporarily put TIFF's reputation as a Hollywood draw and local-film champion in danger.
"I would say that was like a rough second act, and we're at the end of that," Bailey said, speaking to CBC at a media conference ahead of this year's festival, which he expects to be a return to form.
"We're starting the third act, and things are looking better."
That's despite some inter-festival sparring. Just last month, Venice Film Festival's artistic director Alberto Barbera told Vanity Fair that TIFF is less appetizing to big, buzzy American films and news outlets.
But with over 700 celebrities expected to descend on TIFF this year, and what Bailey believes are some of the biggest movies in the world right now screening at the festival, he says TIFF is just as influential to the industry as it's ever been.
"We've got the the world's attention," he said.
That attention is a big part of TIFF's stated future goals, as it's slated to use a recent $23 million cash infusion from the federal government to form a dedicated industry marketplace at the festival: selling high-priced films for studios and industry buyers through screenings that general audiences won't get to attend.
But despite that focus on international films and deep-pocketed investors, Olivier Gauthier-Mercier, the vice-president of Toronto-based distribution company LevelFilm, says that after the first few days of the festival — where the bigger films and celebrities are mostly concentrated — the real work of promoting and selling smaller, independent movies begins.
That's when lesser known movies — like the Toronto-set Village Keeper, which LevelFilm is representing — can ride the wave of excitement. After titles like Megalopolis or Nightbitch sell out theatres and generate headlines, the remaining week becomes more about discovering unknown titles that can gain organic, word-of-mouth buzz.
"This is when it becomes the people's festival," Gauthier-Mercier said.
With a wave of stars predicted to be heading to TIFF this year, he's hopeful that the festival can continue serving that purpose — because it's vital for the Canadian film industry to survive.
"Your desire at TIFF is to be able to springboard your film into people's consciousness," he said. "Village Keeper needs to be there to be found."
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With files from Eli Glasner, Teghan Beaudette and Griffin Jaeger