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50 MEMORIES FROM 50 YEARS OF THE TORONTO INTERNATIONAL FILM FESTIVAL 11 – 20!

I’ve been covering the Toronto International Film Festival for 30 of the 50 years of its existence. I’ve dusted off some memories from those years as a personal look back at the fest’s first half century.

2011: After a long interview with John Lydon, who was at TIFF with punk rock coming of age story “Sons of Norway.” The interview went swimmingly. Lydon was affable, and despite my very unpunk rock suit and tie, we got on quite well. Afterwards I excitedly ducked out to the hotel hallway to call my girlfriend about the interview. As I babbled into th3 phone about meeting one of my heroes, Willem Dafoe—Mr. Bobby Peru himself—walked by and, I guess sensing my excitement, gave me a thumbs up and mouthed the words, “That’s so cool.” That was a cool day.

2006: The audience reaction to “Pan’s Labyrinth” at a 2006 TIFF press screening. Guillermo del Toro’s horrifying fairy tale held the audience in rapt attention from its opening moments, but the reveal of the Pale Man, the child-eating demon with eyes in the palms of his hands, caused a collective “Holy shit,” moment I’ll never forget.

2011: In 2011 I spoke with Ralph Fiennes about his adaptation of the Shakespearean play “Coriolanus.” We talked about the relationship between the two main characters, Coriolanus (Fiennes), the proud Roman general, and his bitter rival, the Volscian general Tullus Aufidius (Gerard Butler) and how they are essentially the same person, just split by ideology. To illustrate his point, Fiennes recited a long passage from Shakespeare’s text. He has the rare gift to recite that language in such a way, that even if you don’t understand exactly what the passage means, the words still connect emotionally. I was almost speechless, but managed to say, “You know what that does to people, don’t you?” He smiled and we wrapped the interview. There was nothing left to say.

2015: Sometimes hosting the press conference felt more like traffic control than interviewing. At “The Martian” presser, there was an unwieldy 13 people on the stage, everyone from Michael Pena to Matt Damon, Ridely Scott, Chiwetel Ejiofor and Jessica Chastain, and in the shuffle I made the horrifying mistake of forgetting to ask the great Sean Bean, who was sitting directly behind me in my blind spot, a question and didn’t realize it until we were out of time. Who doesn’t acknowledge Lord Eddard Stark? Me, idiotically.

2001: David Lynch came to our interview suite to talk about his movie “Mulholland Drive.” Wearing his signature buttoned up white shirt and black suit, he smoked American Spirit cigarettes, one after the other, as he told me about the film, and his notions about where ideas come from. “Ideas are like fish. If you want to catch little fish, you can stay in the shallow water. But if you want to catch the big fish, you’ve got to go deeper. Down deep, the fish are more powerful and more pure. They’re huge and abstract. And they’re beautiful.” I realized as he spoke that he used his cigarette as a baton, like a conductor to punctuate his sentences. By the end of the interview, I was covered in the airborne ash from his wildly gesticulated smokes, but I didn’t care. Nothing a quick trip to the dry cleaners couldn’t fix in return for a few minutes with the maestro.

2008: I hosted the press conference for the gritty Boston-set crime drama “What Doesn’t Kill You,” based on the troubled youth of director Brian Goodman. Questions from the press were slow in coming, and at one point I looked over and Ruffalo, who plays the Goodman character in the film, had his head in his hands. At first, I wasn’t sure what was happening. Was he tired? Taking a break from the conversation? Asleep? Turns out the conversation and questions had made him emotional, and he was crying. Ethan Hawke jumped in and spoke for him about how Ruffalo is a committed actor who completely throws himself into his roles. “There was huge responsibility that Mark felt,” Hawke said, “when you love somebody and you respect them, and they have invested their faith in you.” Eventually, after some prodding Ruffalo spoke up, but the tears continued. “To know Brian like I do underneath all of this, to tell that story today when it’s even more difficult than it was then,” he said, “is just a huge responsibility. AP called the press conference, “a rare treat for both journos and actors because of the heartfelt questions.”

2015: I spoke to Christopher Plummer about the making of the film “Remember.” My favorite line from any interview? Christopher Plummer talking about the dog in the film: “We had two dogs on set. One to do the stunts and the other just making money.”

2008: The best party was Bruce MacDonald’s “Ponypool” bash at the delightfully downscale Imperial Pub and Library on Dundas Street. Leave it to Bruce to opt for a place with a sticky carpet and broken urinals instead of one of the usual TIFF haunts like the Hazelton Hotel. The best part was watching the TIFF types trying to order Grey Goose and champagne and other higher end libations at the beer-and-a-shot bar.

2024: You never know how an audience will react. A very unusual thing happened when I saw Richard Linklater’s “Hit Man” at 2024s TIFF. After the movie’s best and funniest scene, one that shows the comedic chops and chemistry of leads Glen Powell and Adria Arjona, the audience burst into applause. It was a spontaneous, organic moment, the kind usually reserved for comedy clubs, not sold-out festival screenings. The spur-of-the-moment joyfulness of the moment is the kind of thing when an audience of strangers becomes a community for the duration of a film.

September 11, 2001: When I mentioned to New York actress Adrienne Shelly that I couldn’t reach my girlfriend, who was living in Manhattan, she loaned me her cellphone. “For some reason it seems to get through,” she said. It did, and after a quick call to make sure she was safe, the full impact of what had just happened sunk in. Sometimes the small stuff, the personal things — like the anxious voice at the other end of the line — help you understand the magnitude of a grim situation.


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