Why not go to Toronto in September? Apparently, the real question is, why go? In an impromptu survey of representatives at the Cannes market, the nearly unanimous answer to questions regarding plans to go to the Toronto International Film Festival this year was a resounding "No."

Some groups, such as PRO Chile, explained that because they were new on the scene, they may not be ready for Toronto. A representative from the booth stated that Cannes is their first experience, and while it has been a good one, they have to review their options before making a decision about spending this fall in the Great White North.

Several buyers in the market were interviewed, such as Ultra Distributors and Moser Baer, both of whom responded that they did not intend to attend the Toronto festival. Cannes appears to be a friendlier and more prosperous market for buyers than Toronto; because Toronto, unlike Cannes, makes selections on the films that can feature in the market, there is a smaller base of films, especially independent films, at Toronto than at Cannes. This point, above all, seemed to strike a chord with those interviewed.

Independent filmmakers agreed with this idea. One independent filmmaker cited the fact that Toronto does not show shorts as part of their regular program as a reason for avoiding the festival. Cannes' "Short Film Corner" is an amazing resource for short-filmmakers, and because Toronto does not have anything similar at their festival, it is not terribly interesting to this kind of filmmaker.

Most of all, it was Lloyd Kaufman of Troma Productions in New York City who explained his reasons for avoiding Toronto. In response to the question when it was posed, Mr. Kaufman replied, "Why in heaven's name... they hate us." He went on to cite Toronto's selection as "warmed-over movies from Sundance," and then rhetorically posed the question, "Whose ass are they licking this year? Which devil-worshipping national conglomerate [is going to be there]?" Though Mr. Kaufman admitted that, "About three quarters of what [he said]" was true, and that it should all be taken "with a grain of salt," he went on to state that he was "a bitter, sad, old man:" Troma, an independent production company that has been in existence for thirty-five years, has essentially been ignored not only by the mainstream media, but even by the "respected" independent production houses like Warner Independent and Lionsgate. In Mr. Kaufman's opinion, festivals such as Toronto should be helping the independent filmmaker, not "economically blacklisting" him. Mr. Kaufman went on to promote festivals such as TromaDance in Park City, Utah, and Fantasia in Montreal, both of which aim to be more accessible to the independent filmmaker.

The one group who did say they were planning to attend Toronto in the fall was a group from Japan, who said that they were planning on sharing a booth there with Korea, hosted by AFN (Asian Film Network). Their representative stated that Toronto and Venice were equally attractive options for their company, but that Toronto was more feasible. Toronto offers easy access to theaters, and the public of the city is invited. Another reason, however, that this particular group would consider going to Toronto that cannot be ignored is the strength of the Japanese and Asian film markets in general in Toronto. Given that this response was the exception rather than the rule, however, it is safe to say that the Toronto festival is, in general, attractive to a much smaller demographic than the Cannes festival.

The conference on the new Drake International Film Festival at the Italian pavilion started, as all real Italian conferences should, about forty-five minutes late. That’s not to say, however, that the press members in attendance were not entertained. On the contrary, representatives from the festival, including the president, Francesco De Lorenzo himself, sat around the small pavilion area with the attendees, answering questions about the brochures covered in beautiful pictures of the Veneto region and Caserta, where the festival will take place in late June.

When the conference finally began, the monolingual De Lorenzo, aided by a translator, welcomed the press. “I can assure you that our first edition will be a blast,” the translator said, standing next to a beaming De Lorenzo. He then announced that next week, the final lineup of twelve world premieres, six in competition, would be finalized and announced. Both Richard Taylor (famed for his special effects work in the Lord of the Rings Trilogy) and Lloyd Kaufman of Troma Productions in New York City are going to be honored for “making a difference in independent and digital cinema.” Considering the fact that Mr. Kaufman is well-known for his disdain of festivals that are not accepting enough of “real” independent cinema, it is fair to say that even though the Drake festival does not plan on showing short films in competition, it is making its way into the world as a festival for the independent cinema. In closing, De Lorenzo explained the significance of the name of the festival, “Drake,” as in “mandrake,” to represent the “cinema mitico,” a mythical cinema. He then welcomed the assembled press to, “have a taste of our mozzarellas, which you already have…, that’s just a taste of how good our festival is going to be.”

The first Drake International Film Festival will take place at the Royal Palace “Vanvitelliana” of Caserta, from the 23rd to the 30th of June, 2007. More information on the festival is available at www.diff2007.org, or by contacting info@diff2007.org.

                Although Mio Fratello é Figlio Unico tells the story of two brothers, pitted against each other because of political beliefs, reactions to the film, surprisingly, described it as “not too weighty in general,” and “excellent, a lot of humor.” In fact, one audience member went so far as to say that “generally, the subjects are too heavy at Cannes. It was good to see something funny.” How can a film that bases its entire story around revolution, fascist attacks, familial strain, and general political and social confusion inspire these reactions? Daniele Luchetti. 

          A well-known and respected writer and director since the 1980’s, Luchetti not only breaks up what could have easily been a heavy-handed subject with light jokes, sweet romances, and small, funny scenes, but he also pens clever, subtextual dialogue that does not force the somewhat difficult themes down the viewer’s throat. The film follows two brothers through their political journeys in the 60s and 70s in Italy; one brother choosing the Fascist party, the other the Communist side. As the film progresses, the obvious difficulties that arise not only from the actions and philosophies of the individual extremist parties, but also from the brothers’ dissimilarity in their characters and in their beliefs, lead not only to problems between the brothers, but also within their world. Luchetti’s expert writing, mixed with direction which, unlike so many directors today, does not rely on shocking spectacle to portray even the most important and extreme death scenes that inevitably unfold from the subject matter, come together to create a film full of wit, character, intelligence, and thought-provoking philosophy on the depth of beliefs and of blood. It is because of Luchetti that every audience member interviewed was able to come to the same conclusion: Mio Fratello é Figlio Unico is “a beautiful subject. A beautiful film.”

                The Cannes International Film Festival has almost nothing in common with the hustle and bustle of Los Angeles and Hollywood, and yet, people tend to treat each other in the same way: every man for himself. When someone takes time out of their schedule to speak to you, knowing that you are not going to buy their movie or advance their career in some way, that person is someone who is worth talking to. This was the sort of situation that led me to Ken Feinberg, writer and director of two films currently being shown in the Short Film Corner. He didn’t find our fortuitous meeting in the near rat race inside the film market out of the ordinary. Feinberg, an AFM and three-time Sundance veteran, has found Cannes to be much more relaxed and receptive than the Los Angeles crowd; he reasons that if you come all the way to France, you must have something more to offer. To be fair, Feinberg is friendly with everyone he meets, and it is perhaps because of this trait that he has found Cannes to be so receptive to him. “There’s a reason this guy is sitting here,” he said, leaning over towards a man at another table to illustrate his point, “There are no strangers, only friends I haven’t met yet.”

                This philosophy emanates from everything Mr. Feinberg does: aside from being a filmmaker, he is a relationship counselor who has been pursuing Kabalah studies for three years now. In his pursuit of these “mystical studies,” he has discovered an important idea that has been lost in today’s society. According to this idea, life is made up of three levels: the beginning, where we learn and grow, the middle, where we do and accomplish, and the end, where we give back of our wisdom, this third idea being the one that is the most lost today and the one that Feinberg most emphasizes in his storytelling. Both the films he is showing in Cannes, Seven Generations and Hearts and Souls, are based on this mentality.

                 Seven Generations, a 9-minute short about Cherokee Indians, was actually based off of a much longer novel written by Feinberg himself called The Other Side of Now. The film, shot on Cherokee land in Talking Rock, Georgia, focuses on a section of the story, which recounts the life of a basketball player who is knocked back in time to relive his past lives. Seven Generations is the story of one of these lives. Even not knowing the history of the film, one can see when watching the scene focusing on the man’s life as the son of a shaman that it is not a stereotypical story of Native Americans. Even the dialogue seems modern, stemming from the original premise. This idea also, however, comes from Feinberg’s impression of the shaman he met. Feinberg seems to have a gift for understanding and connecting with people, and this trait was obvious as he recounted his meeting with the Cherokee shaman: “[The shaman was] full of life, full of inner character. [He seemed] connected to the Earth.” The shaman in his film took on many of these traits, receiving most of the humorous lines, and also acting as the connection between the two other characters: his own son and the daughter of the chief of a warring tribe. “He’d been trying to get them together for lifetimes…” Feinberg explains of the shaman, who can see into the future and is trying to solve hate with love, a concept that seems lost on most people of our time.

                When asked why he chose this particular segment of the novel to develop into a short, Feinberg told the story of the main actress, Nalini Sharma, who asked Feinberg to cast her in a film that she could use to work her way into the acting scene. They decided to shoot the whole film as opposed to just one scene, but for a little while, it seemed as though it would be impossible: there was no one to play the male lead. The very last actor to walk (...)

          When I told friends from home that I planned to come to Cannes to intern with the film festival, they were all jealous, but especially my friends who went to film school: working at a film festival is a film student’s dream, and not only have I now interned here in Cannes, but I have also volunteered at the Toronto International Film Festival. These two experiences have shown me a lot, not only about the film industry, but about the festival circuit and the vast differences between the festivals.The Cannes International film festival, founded in 1946, is the oldest film festival. Famed worldwide for its proximity to the filmmakers, the Cannes festival was founded to promote independent, often difficult films from talented, multi-national directors. Over the years, Cannes has developed three sections of films outside the official competition, which further emphasize this philosophy: “Un Certain Regard” films are some of the most shockingly beautiful films in the festival, chosen for this section because of the idea that they need to be watched with “un certain regard,” a certain look. “La Semaine de la Critique,” as well, is famed for having shocking, often difficult films. Moving past the entertainment value of today’s movie industry, these works remind us that film is still a form of art. “La Quinzaine des Réalisateurs” was established to refocus the festival on the directors, as was intended when the festival was founded. All of these sections of films further enhance the Cannes ideal of film for the sake of art, and not necessarily for the sake of entertainment, a somewhat backwards thought to modern, and especially to American, audiences.           

          The Toronto International Film Festival, though younger (it was founded in 1976) is slowly but surely attaining respect within festival circuits, now falling into the category of well-known festivals that includes Venice, Berlin, Sundance, and Tribeca. Roger Ebert was even quoted in the National Post in 1999 as saying that “…although Cannes is still larger, Toronto is more useful and more important” However, where many of these festivals, including Cannes, focus on the artier, often darker, side of film, Toronto tends to focus more on independent films that will eventually become more well-known, often thanks to the festival itself. Toronto claims the premieres of such films as Elizabethtown, Pan’s Labyrinth, and All the King’s Men, all of which, while surely nowhere near typical Hollywood blockbusters, appeared in nation-wide cinemas several months later and are now well-known within the general movie-going population. A film like Shortbus, which premiered at the Toronto festival in September of 2006, was controversial at the time, but in Cannes, it would have adhered to the norm.           

          Not only is the subject matter of the films that make up the two festivals vastly different; so are the experiences working at the two festivals. In May, the Cannes festival literally invades the small Côte d’Azur city, doubling its population for the nearly two weeks that it goes on. The red carpet is rolled out, parties and outdoor clubs invade the beaches, restaurants are swamped, and transportation is a nightmare. As an intern, my job involved not only running errands, editing hours of press conferences for online exhibition, answering phones, photocopying, and handing out leaflets, but also finding my way around the maze that is the film market, below the Palais. The only films I even came close to were the ones that I went to on my days off: we were not working with the films; we were working with the festival.           

          Working in Toronto put me much closer to the people and the audiences. Not only is there no red carpet in Toronto; there isn’t even a dress (...)

                   « Ce n’est pas que les films. » L’une des premières choses que mon patron nous a dit le premier jour de notre stage avec  fest21.com me semblait bizarre : c’était bien pour le Festival International de Cannes que je travaillais… n’est-ce pas ? Qu’est-ce qu’il peut traiter d’autre ? En fait, cela avait changé la façon dont j’allais regarder le festival entier, et maintenant, après quelques jours du stage, travaillant à la coulisse, je comprends ce que cela voulait dire.

                C’est vrai… le festival n’est pas que les films : c’est le film. Cela traite non seulement des vedettes pour lesquelles la plupart des milliers de touristes sont venus. Bien que les producteurs soient ici pour voir, pour acheter, pour promouvoir, au sein du Palais, dans le marché du film, on s’occupe des tâches d’un genre bien différent. Notre bureau de fest21.com est à côté de celui du festival international de San Luis, en Argentine, qui sont ici pour se promouvoir. Ensuite, on voit le bureau de coordination du personnel pour le festival, avec les hommes en t-shirts noirs qui viennent et sortent mille fois par jour. Plus loin se situe le « Short Film Corner, » pour les courts métrages : ceux qu’on voit avant « Zodiac » ou « 4 luni, 3 septamini, si 2 zile » ne sont pas les seuls. Par contre, les réalisateurs des courts métrages viennent ici pour promouvoir leur travail, parlant les producteurs et avec les entreprises comme la nôtre, pour mettre leurs films sur l’internet, ou celle avec qui nous partageons  le bureau, qui copie non seulement les films pour les réalisateurs, mais aussi les conférences avec le jury, les conférences de presse, et celles que fait les entreprises comme M21 Editions qui, avec fest21, sponsorise les conférences sur l’avenir du film, le film interactif, et le numérique.

                L’ambiance dans le marché n’est pas du tout comme celle en haut, dehors où l’on attend voir même le dos de Jude Law ou Jake Gyllenhaal. Ici, on voit comment marche le festival, comment tout-ce qui se passe en haut arrive. Nous sommes ici pendant que les vedettes montent les marchés, en train de vérifier les listes des personnages permis aux conférences. Nous sommes ici pendant les projections, en train d’éditer les heures de vidéo qui sont envoyé ici pour que tout le monde puisse voir ce que disait Wong Kar Wai après la première de « My Blueberry Nights. »

                Grâce à la télévision, tout le monde peut voir les vedettes sur le tapis rouge, les conférences de presse, et les réactions de l’assistance. Grâce aux cinémas, on peut aller voir les films du festival. Pourtant, ce que l’on ne voit pas, ce sont les personnes qui travaillent derrière la scène. Si on ne comprend pas cela, on ne comprendra jamais pourquoi le festival n’est pas seulement un festival des films, mais du film.