A noticeably quieter TIFF offered a different atmosphere, new opportunities: moviegoers – Toronto | The Canadian News

TORONTO – Jaime Rebanal felt something different in the air at this year’s Toronto International Film Festival the moment he heard the “yarrrrr” at one of his first screenings.

The enthusiastic pirate cry is a trusted TIFF audience tradition that begins every time the anti-piracy warning appears before every movie. But last week, at this Midnight Madness screening of “Titane,” the hearty growl that usually goes through the audience sounded more like a groan from cheap seats.

“The ‘yarrrrrs’ are not as loud as they used to be,” offers Rebanal as a summary of the TIFF projections in the COVID-19 era.

“It is not that energetic because we are still in this stage of recovering from everything that has been happening.”

Holding a TIFF in person during the pandemic will never feel like routine, but viewers say it was impossible to imagine how different this year’s festival would be until proceedings began.

Blame it on a combination of virtual home screenings, strict COVID-19 guidelines, and little promise of top talent showing up. All those factors made the 2021 edition a decidedly silent event.

Gone are the dazzling crossroads between public accessibility and star power. This year, the festival offered few opportunities for both.

The test was clearest outside the TIFF Bell Lightbox in King St. West, where most of the action takes place.

Along the sidewalks, some people could be seen heading to their next movie with a reserved ticket in hand and no sense of urgency. It was a stark contrast to years past, when hundreds of viewers circled the block hours in advance in hopes of getting the best seats for the most anticipated movies.

The parade of black SUVs laden with filmmakers and celebrities that once lined the TIFF neighborhood was virtually unseen, replaced by locals walking their dogs and noisy buildings seemingly running around the clock.

“It’s a normal Toronto street, even though we are going through one of the biggest festivals in the world,” said Connor Webb, a movie buff who attended numerous screenings.

Also canceled this year was Festival Street, the pedestrian-only event that closes the area around the Lightbox in hopes of attracting families and making room for sponsored activations.

Even the famous TIFF sign that is released every year as a social media photo opportunity went almost unnoticed, tucked away in a corner of the Lightbox entrance so people wouldn’t congregate around it.

“It feels weird and it’s very quiet,” said Carolyn Hinds, a Toronto-based independent film critic who roamed the festival grounds during the week.

“You don’t have the big crowds, the music, the giant billboards or anything like that. A couple of friends and I were discussing it and we said, “It doesn’t feel like TIFF.”

Perhaps more than any other major film festival, TIFF organizers faced the near-impossible challenge of replicating its magic as a so-called “people’s festival” and a launch pad for awards season.

Travel restrictions imposed by the federal government introduced a level of uncertainty that left many visitors who might have flown to Toronto feeling that it was better to sit this year.

The few Hollywood film executives and publicists who showed up were greeted by a shadow from the TIFF stage they once knew.

Several local venues did not survive the city’s prolonged shutdown, including the Kit Kat Italian restaurant across from the TIFF Bell Lightbox and the Starbucks inside the Hyatt Regency, where many festival goers started their day and refueled in the afternoons.

In his absence, a ghostly reminder of his presence lingered: papered windows and the sun-stained outline of now-dismantled shop signs.

Even restaurants that were still open for TIFF functioned as if a major festival was not happening in their surroundings.

Luma, a room inside the Lightbox where the filmmakers once met to discuss their next project, saw only a few of their tables packed at peak hours on the first Saturday night of TIFF. The space closed on Sunday for the rest of the festival.

The swanky nearby hotels that were once hotspots for celebrity spectators didn’t appeal to their usual kind, while the red carpet premieres that usually happened outdoors were held indoors, silencing any chance of screaming. and cheers from the audience.

Inside the cinemas, masked festival goers couldn’t eat popcorn or drinks as all concessions were closed, while a 50 percent capacity limit under Ontario guidelines meant everyone was separated in seats. reserved.

Movie fan Britany Murphy said those restrictions didn’t seem to dampen the excitement at the screenings she attended. In some cases, he suggested that it might have raised emotions.

“I was on ‘Tammy Faye’s Eyes’ and the standing ovation was as loud as in a crowded theater,” said Murphy.

“I feel like people make up for it by making more noise.”

The stars themselves also seemed to be swept away by the increased energy.

Jessica Chastain, who plays Faye in the potential Oscar nominee, took the stage during a post-screening Q&A session and was seen wiping tears as she thanked the crowd.

Actor and director Kenneth Branagh broke down talking about his semi-autobiographical film “Belfast” after its screening.

“Lockdown teaches you, like it or not, about the things that were precious, that were simple, that had been taken from you.” she said, pausing to find a handkerchief as she cried.

Losing some of the buzz around TIFF couldn’t detract from these human moments, and as for the overall cinematic experience, that also survived, suggested Jonathan Forani, a former festival employee who now attends as a casual viewer.

“It felt like a good old TIFF again, in many ways, even though some of the trimmings were missing,” Forani said.

“The festival was reduced to its essential purpose, which is cinema itself.”