I initially wanted to write about a brief history of the Sydney Film Festival, which is one of Australia’s most prominent film festivals and is opening in its 67th year (66 if you want to count out the fact that there was none held last year for obvious reasons). But its organization has already done that job for me with an up-to-date and comprehensive archive of its activities: from the international and local films they’ve presented, its significance to the domestic film industry to the people involved in running it like David Stratton, who was the Director from 1966 to 1983 and is the country’s most recognizable film critic working today.
Instead, this is going to be an ode to the film festival and what I will expect going into them moving forward. I emphasize the phrase ‘moving forward’ rather than “moving on”, because while the latter is what I think should be happening, the majority of moviegoers buying tickets and passes with their hard-earned money, don’t. It won’t go back to the glories of the pre-pandemic era, because cultural events do not plan to regress. Sydney’s film festival has been delayed for this year, and had accommodated its 2020 losses with a mini-fest at the beginning of the summer when Australia was COVID-free and was able to implement full capacity seating (with masking encouraged). Of course, it’s a relief that the show can go on, because the film festival is a playground for cinephiles, actors, directors - emerging and established - and for anyone typically embedded in the inner-city milieu. Some of my friends have been involved with the operations; either they were volunteers or have been programmers.
The last time I went to the Sydney Film Festival was in 2019. It was also my first time, as I’ve finished my university studies and usually, the Festival occurs during my exam period. The first film I saw there was Werner Herzog’s documentary on Mikhail Gorbachev, and I came in fifteen minutes late, because I made the mistake of going to the wrong venue. The correct venue was in the CBD, and there is a sizable distance between the two. When I came in, I was sitting next to one of the programmers and asked him “what had I missed?” He glanced at me with annoyed looks, and I knew that asking that question isn’t the same as when it comes in general.
Film festivals bring a layer of socializing, with a social hub containing a bar, digital exhibitions, and the possibility for a hangout. I spoke with a programmer with whom we once interacted before. He was aware of my politics, and while we agree about 5% of the time, it was quite cordial. I joked that the Festival if it really wanted to raise audience shackles (Jennifer Kent’s The Nightingale’s violent scenes have caused sickness and walkouts, according to some reports), should put Dragged Across Concrete.
Australia’s film festivals do not have a distinguishing image, compared to their European and American peers. Cannes is a mixture of cineaste taste and glamour, Venice is known for its unpredictability, while Telluride and Toronto is essentially a lead-up to awards season. Those have prizes that denote significant competition between filmmakers. The Melbourne International Film Festival, which gets Wikipedia’s recognition as ‘one of the oldest in the world and is by far the least commercially concerned of the Australian bunch, has at best, a short film competition.
If one could describe Sydney, it’s an event that could only exist thanks to a mixture of state-funds and commercialism, attempting to alleviate whatever makes up for our local industry. What other festivals have partnerships with not just the Australian Film and Television Radio School, but also Lexus and WeWork? But it has many films officially competing for the Sydney Film Prize, which is quite young, with winners ranging from Hunger, Bronson, A Separation, and Only God Forgives. The winner at the last festival was Parasite (which shares the milestone of being the first Sydney Prize that has also won the Academy Award for Best Picture); Bong Joon Ho was there in person to talk about making the film and its themes, which since its release has stretched out mainly on inequality and capitalism. Bong talks about the need for forgiveness and redemption, and the audience asks questions by introducing themselves as students of Hitchcock and Truffaut. Not one of them was ready for the experience of watching a movie that had just won the Palme D’Or and simmer through its many complexities after they’ve finished it. The screening was filled with laughter, tears, and jump scares; an appreciation of what it attempts to do.
Sydney’s lineup will usually include advanced screenings of big movies yet to be released. The 2019 Festival programmed The Secret Life of Pets 2, out-of-competition, and this year, the likes of Dear Evan Hansen will premiere here, in spite of being a critical and commercial bomb. But the current slate will be bigger than ever, with glittery features like The French Dispatch, Dune, and Titane to look out for and they’ll be out a month after the festivities close.
The standard of management is something venues have to think about a lot. To compensate for the constraints of the pandemics, many film festivals have taken the virtual route, especially Sydney. This is advantageous with access, especially with people who cannot afford to travel to the city. Sundance, TIFF, and NYFF have reported a boost in attendance this year, which is measured by online screenings, drive-ins, even indoor tickets. Demand for film festivals remains strong, but the economics of the new format is less certain. The weakness of film festivals being virtual is the lack of community, something that makes these events particularly unique. It is just the same as renting a movie from a streaming platform and it is available to watch for a limited period. Currently, Sydney is putting a hybrid platform, allowing streaming-on-demand, but they are emphasizing physical attendance, so long as everyone is healthy enough to go.
The complacency among film commentators towards physical venues has been stunning to hear. Disregarding the desire for higher vaccinations and safety is the need to throw theatres and festivals under the bus because they are perceived to be superspreaders. Trawl through the replies of this viral tweet from a critic who insists that film festivals should not be in-person, and you’ll find the new champions of safety telling people how to live and that their social lives are disposable. I don’t want to repeat what I’ve argued before in this newsletter - that they’re not superspreaders, there are many people who work at a bare minimum wage who need it to survive, that there’s a limit to streaming - but it’s important to note that for people not having the opportunity to participate at these things - because he is immunocompromised, he doesn’t to be involved in crowds - he is still able to access them, and the maximal convenience remains. People experience the festival in different ways, and for me, a film festival induces belonging with other people, old and new. To be lectured by someone whose income derives from sitting on a couch, indulging on press screeners, and then jotting words down on a laptop about how they feel about the thing they’re assigned by their editors, is for a lack of a better term… elitist.
This year’s Film Festival will be symbolic of New South Wales’ reopening, following months of lockdowns and stay-at-home orders induced by the Delta variant (and back then insufficient vaccination rates). Trust me, when I say that I get the reactions from everyone involved who really want to stop talking about coronavirus, whether they think lockdowns are better than nothing or that the virus is not as bad as the seasonal flu. My country does not feel unified, as the states and territories now masquerade as separate nations. Some people are comfortable enough to go on their devices and insist that restrictions need to be harsher when there are contingents that won’t benefit from this. But all of us need to determine and assess our own risks not just with the virus, but through life as well. What I’m trying to say is...
Let them enjoy things.