For film critics and journalists, “film festivals” rarely feel like festive occasions. Sure, there are more titles to peruse than one can count. There are numerous chances to interact with colleagues and artists who are usually far away. There is also the overarching theme of celebration of cinema—both old and new. However, these statements resemble mere platitudes when the ground realities are given their due. These ground realities include, but are not limited to: jetlag, cramming in as many relevant titles as possible, chasing after talent and publicists to nail that elusive interview, finding time to feed oneself without breaking the bank (or the schedule) and managing to finish an article before your editor barks at your inefficiency.
A week ago, I was at the 43rd International Film Festival Rotterdam, only my second film festival out of (comfortable) home territory. I was participating in the Trainee Project for Young Critics, but also given leeway to cover the festival for affiliations of my choice. (One piece from my work is available at Cinephiled.) Now that the event itself is firmly in the rear-view mirror, I wanted to remember the lessons I learnt and note them here, not just for my perusal but also to put the ball in your court, so you may add your own commandments.
KNOW YOUR DEN.
A view of the biggest venue at the 43rd IFFR. (Photo by Michael Pattison)
This one is pretty basic, and also the one where my conduct was least egregious. Not all festivals take place in small towns that give themselves over completely for the event (like, say, Locarno every August). Most of them, in fact, take place in hustling and bustling cities, which go about their daily life unminding of a trifling cinematic showcase in a corner.
The festival of Rotterdam had venues sprawling all over the city, with the farthest ones being a good 30-minute walk from each other. The day I arrived, I was thankfully taken on a tour of the business end of the city by a colleague and shown the various venues where I would be for the next ten days. However, a week later, I still found my (slapdash) plans completely dashed when it turned out I had massively miscalculated the amount of time it would take me to walk from my current location to the site of a screening. I learnt this lesson the hard way, but in the future I shall make sure I am sufficiently aware of my surroundings and not unintentionally discovering new by-lanes on the day of the closing ceremony.
JETLAG IS A FORMIDABLE ENEMY.
This is such a banal-yet-obnoxious element of festivals that it deserves proper consideration. I have asked several critics, and they all admit it is a legitimate force. What happens when you have booked yourself for a show, have even pitched a story to your editor, walk into the auditorium in time and prepare to sit for the movie … but doze off in a few minutes?
I live in India, and traveling to Europe for me means the worst kind of jetlag: when other people are toasting to each other over dinner, I’m nodding off because my body clock assumes it is midnight. I made the stupid error of believing I could sit through the opening night film, Qissa, a few hours after I had landed. I ended up sleeping my way to glory in the film, and only woke up because of a particularly loud song playing over the end credits. In hindsight, I should have just called it an early night and prepared myself for the first proper day.
FOOD. OR THE LACK OF IT.
Here’s the thing: choosing to practice film criticism as a career practically means saying goodbye to money, or at least a decent amount of it. It’s not like Europe is the most reasonably-priced continent in the first place. Even if a particular film playing at Rotterdam divided all critics, this motley gang was united in their collective hunger (and their quest to find the cheapest way to overcome it).
I spent a large portion of my time at the festival unhealthily hungry. Gorging on free breakfasts is an unavoidable life hack. Thankfully, press rooms and offices often contain fruits, beverages and sandwiches to spare. There are also a couple of free parties and dinners up for grabs, but one must still keep a few fruits or quick munchies in one’s bag for that (seemingly) never-ending film. Towards the end of the festival, I had fortunately found a couple of places stocking falafels and shawarmas that did not cost a kidney per order. Phew.
THE PERILS OF A LINE-UP TOO VAST.
This ties in with the shackles on almost all press covering a festival: you can choose to see the retrospectives all day long if you want. You can pick each day’s entries blindfolded. But, if you are on a leash, covering the assignment for a particular publication or (worse) a freelancer looking to break even, then you must know the schedule inside out, recognize the titles you can get reporting mileage out of and scour for the talent willing to grant interviews.
The lineup at Rotterdam was too vast for immediate ingestion, and being part of the Trainee Project meant my timing was dictated by the program’s demands. I tried composing a rough schedule for myself over the first few days but the number of permutations, combinations and indefinite variables proved to be an insurmountable obstacle. I blanked out after merely two days of planning, and resorted to makeshift scheduling the night before, each night. It definitely wasn’t the ideal scenario, and is part of the reason I ended up attending just a measly 26 films over a 10-day festival. To do justice to the opportunities afforded by being at a festival, one must at least have some immovable entries in the calendar, some empty slots that can be filled in by the titles creating a buzz, sufficient and spaced out gaps for writing along with provisions for catching up with colleagues every now and then. Basically, the opposite of whatever I did in the last fortnight.
VALUE YOUR TIME:
This may not be true on most days of the year, but during a festival, one is well and truly spoilt for choice. There are half a dozen titles playing at any given slot, and exhibitions and panel discussions on top of it. Even if you are running on fumes and don’t know what you’re doing after this screening, if the film you’ve begun watching is unimaginably bad, then it is not a crime to walk out.
I tried to develop an ability to change my plans on the fly, and wish I had more skill and success. I ended up sitting through some films that I would have been better off walking out of. I went with the flow in dangerous ways and accompanied some colleagues to films without checking whether I was in the right mindset for it, leave aside whether there was something better I could have done. Beyond this, I feel worst about not taking time out to soak in the city until the end of the festival. This was the first time I was in Rotterdam (with no knowledge of when I’ll be there next), and I ended up spending too much seated in dark auditoriums watching things I wasn’t liking. Roaming around the city and refreshing my tired mind would have been a much better use of my time on several occasions.
“Qissa”, the opening night film. Which I have no memory of.
Well, that’s it. These are my five biggest takeaways from this particular inning. I hope the next time I am at a festival I don’t make the same mistakes I did this time.
What about you? What were the nifty tips and tricks you learnt while festival hopping? Are there some things you do without fail that help you get through that one exhausting week? We may all be united in our quest for affordable meals, but we can also help each other out in staying up through the glitzy world premiere on the first day.