The Star's Martin Knelman piles on the TIFF-bashing.
To be fair, festival programmers did an excellent job of unearthing gems even in a down year for movies. Yet getting through the obstacles to see them was harder than ever.
A major sour note sounded on opening night when many clutching invitations to the gala at Roy Thomson Hall were kept waiting on the sidewalk for close to half an hour – while donors to the festival's capital campaign for its Bell Lightbox project were given preferential treatment. When a TIFF official came out to ask, "Are there any donors in this line?" a veteran Los Angeles journalist quipped, "I'm an organ donor" – and was told that's not the kind of donor that was meant.
Even high-end gold patrons who pay $5,500 a year for their privileges – shelling out more every year and getting less in return – became second-class citizens next to Lightbox donors.
These days TIFF's senior staff and board are increasingly obsessed with their fundraising campaign, but they will be making a huge strategic mistake if they undercut the festival itself by reducing it to a promotional pitch for the building.
How classy is it to allow favoured donors access to the green room, designated as an oasis of calm for stars and special guests – as if having your picture taken with a Hollywood celeb is a perk you get for writing a cheque?
Even more alarmingly, sneaker-wearing cinephiles were antagonized by an ill-conceived marketing change that stymied festival-goers who can't write big cheques. Those who bought coupon books could not exchange their vouchers for any screenings at the Elgin. And the price for attending a movie there was a whopping $40 – even for repeat screenings on weekday mornings.
Result: For the first time in decades, the public rebelled against the festival. People did not see why they should pay big bucks to see a daytime movie, especially with no stars in attendance, when they could see it for one-quarter the price a few weeks or months later.
Upshot: a series of half-empty houses, creating no sweet smell of success. That situation does not go down well with the producers and distributors of those movies.
I love the film-going opportunities that TIFF provides, but I'm starting to hate the festival -- if that makes any sense.
For example, the screenings I attended for Daytime Drinking and Detroit Metal City had no one available from the film for the q-and-a.
If you bought a ticket online, you would spend $24 -- about double the price of most commercial movie theatres in Toronto (AMC at Dundas and Yonge wants $13). I would feel 60 per cent more ripped off had I shelled out $40 for a gala film for a similarly empty experience.
Question: If there's no q-and-a, what is the difference between seeing such a film at TIFF and seeing it at a theatre?
Answer: You don't get to see a Bell Lightbox promotional ad in a commercial theatre.
And as Knelman and others have noted, if you're just a filmgoer and not a donor, you're a second-class citizen when it comes to getting tickets in the first place.
Personally, I can see a time in the next few festivals where if this keeps up, I'll say, "screw it. Not worth it" -- especially if prices keep rising to help pay for the Bell White Elephant.
I love film, but I hate being played for a sucker.