Three weeks ago, I realized maybe movies allow us the opportunity to live an infinite amount of lives

By Candice Zhang

Dear pre-TIFF Candice, 

Before attending the Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF), you wouldn’t have called yourself much of a movie buff. You rarely went to the cinema or browsed through Netflix. In fact, you’ve never even watched Harry Potter or Star Wars (which, to most, feels like saying you’ve never tasted chocolate). 

As soon as TIFF starts on Sept. 5, your close friend calls you, asking if you want to watch one of the films from the festival. They try to convince you that it is a once-in-a-lifetime experience that you couldn’t possibly miss out on. Every day, they would bring up TIFF and ask for recommendations. 

You tell them you know nothing about the festival, nor are you interested in film. Whenever you hear about the festival on the news, it is filled with reports on celebrities and other industry professionals. As someone who didn’t really follow pop culture, you can’t seem to get the hype. The idea of being surrounded by people fawning over celebrities you barely recognized felt exhausting.

Nonetheless, your friend is determined to have you attend. They went ahead and decided to purchase tickets for a film airing on Monday, Sept. 9 at 9:40 p.m. The timing works out — no conflict with your studies or commute — so you figure you have no choice but to go. Still, you can’t shake the uncertainty. How can you make it through the screening if the movie turns out to be a snooze fest? 

There is only one way to find out.

When the dreaded day finally arrives, you commute back home from your co-op position as a business assistant. You are dead tired; your head is hurting and your bag feels like an elephant on your shoulders, considering you just finished a full day of work. You can’t even sneak in a quick nap. 

“I don’t even like movies,” you think.

But you decide to stick true to your word, and before you know it, the clock strikes 8 p.m. You hurriedly put on your jacket, rush to ‘Timmies,’ grab a ‘double-double’ and head towards the venue. 

The film your friend wants to watch is Julie Keeps Quiet. They quickly brief you, mentioning that it is about tennis. When you arrive at the venue, you are thrown off by the size of the crowd. You quickly become overwhelmed and start to wonder why there are so many people waiting to see a movie, especially on a Monday night. You suddenly feel out of place. 

What are you doing here surrounded by a bunch of movie geeks?

When it is finally time to enter the theatre, you just want the movie to be done and over with. You think it would be another cliche movie plot; a nerdy girl has a crush on an athletic guy and then suddenly she becomes some sort of tennis superhero. In addition, you assume that there may be some action or jealousy involved with winning competitions. 

But your assumptions are proven wrong. As you impatiently wait for the movie to start, the film director, Leonardo Van Dijl, comes out and introduces himself (you totally didn’t expect that). He gave a chat and you quickly realized how passionate he was about the true theme of the film: the power hierarchies in the sport of tennis and their effects on young athletes. 

The movie started slow; there were some moments of silence. Then, moments of conversation. Though the film was in Dutch and French, you still feel that the characters and events are relatable to your daily life. You can see yourself being friends with the character, especially during lunch breaks. You can see yourself in that scenario, conversing with the other characters and going to school with them. The jokes also helped lighten the atmosphere. 

You couldn’t help but feel as if you were reliving the character’s events in your own life, almost as if you had become her. You see Julie’s friends support her through tough times, you see how she would stay up late at night just to make the tennis team and how scared she felt when her coach started turning into someone she couldn’t recognize. 

You find it fascinating how the director weaved in informal conversations and moments even though the main plot of the movie — manipulation and abuse by authority figures — was so serious. 

The movie just felt so real. You always felt that movie plots are exaggerated, but this one was different. 

So, in a way, you were wrong. The film festival wasn’t just about chasing popular stars or meeting celebrities. It was also about giving a platform to foreign or indie creators.

When the movie finished and the lights came back on, it suddenly hit you that movies weren’t just stories told through the screen. The characters went through a series of events to learn an important lesson or work towards some sense of self-realization. For example, Julie thought she had to compromise herself and her ethics in order to join the tennis team. However, she later realized that her mental health and well-being matter the most, not what her coaches force her to do. Throughout the movie, you saw the journey which she took in order to come to that realization. And then, you suddenly realize that you have been in similar situations in life, whether it would be academics, making friends, or joining student clubs. You realize that just like Julie, you tried to bend yourself backwards and cater yourself to the other people around you. But at the same time, you forget to realize that what truly matters is yourself. 

Then, you realize that movies can be a way of showcasing someone else’s life in a third-person perspective. You wonder how your life could have been shown through a different viewpoint, and how others may view you as a character. Knowing this, you suddenly realize that movies can be a way for you to share your own experiences. 

As someone who liked to tell stories through writing, you realized how you could start telling stories through film. The film medium gives you the chance to portray events through visualization instead of words, and you recognized how powerful that could be. 

Perhaps one day, you’d like to come back to the festival. Only this time, to share your own story on the big screen.