TIFF 2024 EDITOR’S JOURNAL: Entry #1 — Hello, Toronto
Toronto International Film Festival
September 5-15, 2024
NadaMucho.com Editor/Publisher Matt Ashworth is on site in Toronto journaling for our first trip to the Toronto International Film Festival(TIFF).
Sunday, September 8
The Lay of the Land
It’s unfortunate that this storied event is being marred by the issues of a functional monopoly. TIFF’s Ticketmaster-powered system has been a frustrating experience, to say the least. I’ve seen their API work fine for things like MLB games, but this application is one of the worst user experiences I’ve had in quite some time.Thankfully, TIFF staff and support have been phenomenal. Even over the weekend, their email response time is impressive, and there’s an actual number you can call to speak with real people. This is clearly a much larger operation than both my beloved SIFF and new friend VIFF, but with that comes a lot more resources: in-person help with tickets and scheduling and an abundant supply of informed staff and volunteers.
Unlike the sprawling footprints of the international festivals we’ve covered in Seattle and Vancouver, TIFF’s primary theaters are all within walking distance. Our AirBnB, a skyline condo nestled amidst them, makes logistics a breeze. A quick shout-out to Tim, who’s both talent and operations lead for NadaMucho.com’s TIFF coverage, for his logistical acumen. I didn’t spot Jacob Elordi, Selena Gomez or David Cronenberg today, but I’m fairly certain I saw Pharrell’s security team whisking him into a black SUV. With everything centrally located, it’s almost inevitable that we’ll be bumping into festival luminaries whether we want to or not.
As you stroll down King Street—the main TIFF drag that often shuts down during the festival—you pass the TIFF Film Centre within the Hyatt Regency, then the TIFF Bell Lightbox, and finally the grandiose Prince of Wales Theatre and historic Royal Alberta Theatre, all lined up perfectly in a row. The Lightbox and POW are home to the fancy red carpets and premieres, with adoring fans crowding outside, hoping to catch a glimpse of the stars. Unsurprisingly, this area is in perpetual chaos, a cacophony of excited voices in dozens of languages, accents, and dialects. It’s a glorious place for people-watching, even if you aren’t willing to crowd your way up against the velvet ropes.
First Film of the Week: Dead Mail (Canadian Premiere)
The nearby ScotiaBank Cineplex Theatre offers a different vibe. It’s strange to see a mall so full of life, bustling with people, culture, and commerce—far more energy than you’d see in any commercial space back in Seattle these days. This theater chain venue, which manages to capture the same spirit of multicultural artistic connection as the festival’s core, is home to many of TIFF’s press-only screenings. It’s here that I saw my first film of the week, Dead Mail, on Sunday evening in a large, two-tiered theater that was about 80 percent full of press.
This retro, synth-infused psychological thriller from Missouri filmmaking duo Joe DeBoer and Kyle McConaghy is inventive, eerie, and unmistakably weird—in a way that fans of David Lynch and low budget sci-fi would most likely appreciate. The film, which created a buzz earlier this year at SXSW, follows the fallout from a blood-stained piece of mail that lands on the desk of a county post-office’s “dead letter” investigator, spiraling into a bizarre and murderous series of events.
Visually, the 70s-inspired aesthetic and analog synth score create a mood like you’re watching a Polaroid in motion. But while the film’s style and dialogue are strong, the pacing stumbles. The story feels uneven, with moments that drag and others that rush by, making the narrative feel less cohesive than it should be. It doesn’t quite reach greatness, but this debut might still be intriguing enough to land DeBoer and McConaghy an A24 deal—and if that happens, I’ll be front row for whatever they dream up next.
#####
Monday, September 9
The press screening of The Assessment (World Premiere) at the Scotiabank Theatre was about 60 percent full at 11:45 a.m., typical for these early industry viewings. You don’t get the electric energy of public screenings and premieres, but the trade-off is often worth it—you’re more likely to pull a Seinfeld and find yourself blissfully alone, with no one in the seat next to you as you dissolve into the screen. The young woman checking names and outlets as we strolled into The Assessment —a sci-fi thriller set in a post-apocalyptic world where only the elite are permitted to have children—reminded me of my colleagues and I, making media connections at Capitol Hill Block Party or Day In Day Out festivals back in Seattle. She’s hopeful we enjoy the film, and likely more hopeful we mention it in our coverage, boosting her client’s share of voice for the festival.
Lucky for her, she’s repping a very solid film. The Assessment features two stellar actors returning to their indie roots: Elizabeth Olsen (Scarlet Witch in the MCU) and Alicia Vikander, who dazzled in Alex Garland’s similarly moody Ex Machina (2014). Director Fleur Fortuné, a Paris-based filmmaker making her feature-length debut, enters the fray this week against over 200 global films, many with far more star power and promotional muscle behind them.
Fortuné’s background directing music videos for artists like M83, Travis Scott, and Lykke Li is evident in her visually arresting style. The world she crafts is carefully designed, but some of the directorial choices feel like they’re holding our hands unnecessarily. The film stumbles in spots with blatant exposition and a few melodramatic beats that might have been avoided with more trust in the audience’s ability to piece things together. It’s reminiscent of Jonathan Glazer’s Under the Skin (2013), a film that gave space for viewers to breathe life into the world around its characters. Hopefully, with future releases, Fortuné will give us more room to imagine within the compelling worlds she so vividly creates.
The Marriage of Art and Sport
After the film, as I jotted down notes, I had one of those moments of self-reflection: I realized that my three favorite things at 50 are the same as they were at 15—music, movies, and sports. The only real differences are that my body only allows a couple days of basketball a week, my favorite band has morphed from the Pixies to Tropical F*** Storm, and films are far more available to me than they once were.
But then I remember—music and sports are universal languages. They connect hearts, bodies, and minds across borders, cultures, and social divides. This beautiful variety is reflected in the people I encounter at film festivals. It’s a reminder of that shared human experience, which is why I also decided to catch a Toronto Blue Jays game while I’m here. It was nice of them to play an NL team so I could cheer with the locals, but alas, they lost 3-2 to the Mets anyway.
#####
Tuesday, September 10
Ah, the electric buzz of Hollywood excitement. I’d tried to snag day-of tickets Sunday and Monday for Queer (North American Premiere), the new Luca Guadagnino joint, but no luck—packed to the rafters with industry, tastemakers and press who took better advantage of strategically reserving tickets ahead of time. “No problem,” I thought, “Press screenings have been barely 70 percent full. I’ll catch the 11:45 a.m. on Tuesday morning.”
Wrong.
Upon arriving at ScotiaBank Cineplex, I was met with manic energy as fleet-footed bloggers rushed to secure their spots. This was the hot ticket: an adaptation of William S. Burroughs’ Queer by increasingly influential director Luca Guadagnino (Suspiria, Call Me by Your Name, Challengers). It was my first time being funneled into the hopeful line, complete with volunteers raising large paddles, wrangling crowds for important films.
TIFF staff, stylishly dressed and wielding commanding voices, barked orders. A woman in this year’s Hoka walking shoes and luxury leisure wear demanded to be moved into the VIP press line. Meanwhile, us plebes stood in a rope line reminiscent of the TSA’s worst layouts—tucked under a staircase like leftovers. It was glorious. I just stood there taking it all in, engaging with anyone who seemed up for a conversation.
Just as claustrophobia started to creep in, a publicist announced that the theater was full. The collective groans of journalists in at least six different accents filled the air as the line quickly dissolved. No matter—I’m sure Luca’s take on Burroughs’ novel will get a wider release next year, and I’ll be ready when it does. In the meantime, I highly recommend Yony Leyser’s 2010 documentary William S. Burroughs: A Man Within and Burroughs’ role in Gus Van Sant’s Drugstore Cowboy (1989) to get some context before Queer hits the big screen.
Plan B: A Missing Part
With Queer off the table, I grabbed a Coke Zero and pivoted to A Missing Part, a Belgian film set in Tokyo making its world premiere at TIFF. No buzz, no hype—just the way I like it. This is what I call full Optimum Immersion, walking in with no expectations or preconceived notions. The film turned out to be an emotional punch about two French nationals grappling with Japan’s cultural approach to divorce and custody. From the first frame, I was hooked. The light, sound, and atmosphere pulled me into this foreign world, and the performances by Romain Duris, Jessica Judith Chelma and Mei Cirne-Masuki hit hard. Twice, I felt the lump in my throat—a must-see for any parent who’s fought for their child.
Quick Break at the Airbnb Sky Pad
A pit stop at my nearby Airbnb led to an elevator conversation with a young actor. He’d just gotten a pep talk from his dad before the movie he is in, Saturday Night, makes it Candian premiere this afternoon. I wished him luck and told him my lead reviewer and I would be watching the film, directed by Jason Reitman (Juno, Thank You For Smoking, Up in the Air), on Saturday. I mean, c’mon—it just feels right to see a film about the first episode of Saturday Night on a Saturday night.
Now, as I gear up for my next screening at the 2,000-capacity Princess of Wales Theatre, I can hear the sounds of protestors or a rally in the distance. TIFF, it seems, is about to get even livelier.
#####