Reel Life: Film festivals in the time of pandemic

The tiredness in fixing your gaze perennially to the images flickering on the home screen is much more enormous than travelling miles, across time zones, to participate in a festival physically

Reel Life: Film festivals in the time of pandemic
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Namrata Joshi

For a journalist writing on cinema, my first intimation of the pandemic came, fittingly, at a film festival. It was in February last year, at the Aurangabad International Film Festival, when a group of us slipped away between screenings to visit Ellora caves and found a bunch of tourists from South East Asia being regarded with suspicion by the locals what with the news from China growing dire by the day.

But the fact that COVID-19 would wipe out—like most things in life—the entire film festival calendar began to dawn on me much later when the historic Red Sea International Film Festival, the first ever in Saudi Arabia, set to take place in March at the UNESCO World Heritage site of Jeddah Old Town, stood cancelled. As did my tickets to Jeddah. The mecca of them all—Cannes Film Festival—stayed optimistic, then dithered, looked at alternative dates to eventually decide to skip the year altogether. Save a pared down Venice Film Festival in September nothing much happened on ground.

In a world brought down to its knees by disease, despair and uncertainty, talking of film festivals might sound like a case of utter privilege and misplaced priorities. Afterall, red carpets and world premieres, celeb-spotting and photo-ops would matter the least when death is stalking the entire humanity.

Reel Life: Film festivals in the time of pandemic

But, at the end of the day, the festivals too have a pivotal place in the sun. Aren’t they also about jobs, livelihoods, incomes and economy? Beyond the daily grind of life, they are about providing a nurturing ground and viable ecosystem for young, independent cinema to flourish.

A cinema which reflects, questions, probes and ponders on our realities and gives us artistic relief and creative oxygen to elevate the heart and mind. Specially in these times of loss and lovelessness, longing and loneliness.

No wonder a bunch of the festivals—within India and abroad—decided to come home to the viewers, playing films online, which we could access on the mobiles, tablets, laptops and TV sets. It was all to give some sense of comfort to the filmmakers and the cinephiles when the future looked highly indeterminate and also to keep the wheels of the filmmaking system well-oiled and rolling. A fight for survival, a battle to stay relevant when nothing seemed to hold meaning or value.


A wealth of beautiful films fought for space on our own personal screens, but a gaping hole still could not be filled. That void of collectivism, of watching films together, sharing them as a community experience. It may sound ludicrous but from Toronto to Dharamshala to Sundance and Rotterdam—binging on festivals online comes with a strange fatigue attached.

The tiredness in fixing your gaze perennially to the images flickering on the home screen is much more enormous than travelling miles, across time zones, to participate in a festival physically.

Things took a turn in India in 2021. Even as most international events have gone online in the early months of the year, the International Film Festival of India (IFFI), Goa, went hybrid in January and Kolkata International Film Festival decided to roll on physically as well. Hope began to float.

After almost a zero year since the Aurangabad International Film festival, a short visit to the Thiruvananthapuram leg of on-going International Film Festival of Kerala showed me the shape of things to come, in so far as the organisation of film festivals in the future is concerned.

The cutest change is that along with the festival bags and brochures and booklets, there was also a nice festival mask tucked away in our delegate kit. A bunch of these face masks from festivals across the world could be the new collectors’ passion now.

What more are we in for? For a while, for most of the festivals, it will have to be about scaling down operations substantially. Lesser films, filmmakers, delegates and viewers to begin with. The programmes will have to be tighter and leaner, the venues contained and closely monitored.

Lesser screenings and longer intervals between the shows will have to be called in for proper sanitisation processes. The logistics are going to involve much more than the films and filmmakers to ensure a cluster doesn’t get created.

IFFK, in its 25th COVID-hit edition, has shown the way, ensuring social distancing, 50 per cent occupancy (despite mayhem for Lijo Jose Pelliserry’s latest Churuli) and compulsory antigen testing for the attendees. Most significantly, they decided to take the films to the people than have people travel for their fill of films.

The traditional one-city festival, spread over 10-12 days at the Kerala capital, has morphed into smaller five-day festivals in four different cities in the state. Besides Thiruvananthapuram, we find Kochi, Thalassery and Palakkad also come on to the festival map.

For the viewers, there will be a new fear to deal with. Festivals are life-affirming and healing, a sign of reclaiming normalcy even as they leave you with a niggling anxiety and a mandatory post fest quarantine. As a precautionary measure, it’s the usual rules to stick by. Keep the sanitiser handy. Don’t ever let the mask down.

In fact, double up if you can. Don’t be in a mad rush to catch the films. The days of watching six back-to-back films in a festival are over. Stick to a maximum of three a day with enough gap in between to hydrate yourself and breathe some fresh air. Don’t be a glutton, keep the cinema diet balanced.

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