August 22, 2026
August 22, 2026
Planning TIFF Is a Film Festival of Its Own
Frontmezzjunkies reports on some strategic spreadsheet scheduling for TIFF51
Every year, usually between the first announcement of the TIFF lineup and the release of the screening schedule, I convince myself this year will be different.
This year, I will be sensible.
This year, I will look at the films I want to see, choose a few, put them into the calendar, and move on with my life in full balance.
This year, I will not spend an unreasonable amount of time calculating whether I can get from one screening to another while also eating something, answering an email, writing something profound about something I just saw, finding coffee, and possibly remembering that I am supposed to be enjoying myself.
This year, naturally, I have a spreadsheet.
Actually, I have several versions of the spreadsheet.
Because planning TIFF is not really about choosing what you want to see. That would be far too easy. It is about deciding which version of yourself is going to exist on each particular day of the festival.
There is the version of me who thinks getting to a Mike Leigh film at 8:40 in the morning is a perfectly reasonable thing to do. What choice do I have, if you really want to think about it? There is the version who looks at “Fjord“, the Palme d’Or winner, beginning at 3:20 and thinks, yes, obviously, that belongs in the same day. Then there is the practical version who notices that “All About Corinne” and “Atonement” are sitting there as alternatives because experience has taught me that TIFF schedules have a wicked sense of humour. And requires a reviewer to be three steps ahead of the game.
And that is before the festival has even started.
My September 10 hopefully begins with “Tender Loving Care“, which feels like an appropriately ambitious way to announce to my nervous system that TIFF has arrived. Mike Leigh at 8:40 a.m. is not exactly easing into the festival. It is more like kicking open the door and announcing that we have work to do.
Then there is “Fjord“, the Palme d’Or winner, later that afternoon. Maybe. If I can change a doctor’s appointment.
Two films. One day. A completely different cinematic universe between them.
That is part of what makes the TIFFschedule so much fun to construct. You are not simply choosing movies. You are building strange little cinematic neighbourhoods inside a single day.
One morning can involve Siân Heder’s “Being Heumann“. Later, Hur Jin-ho’s “The Assassin(s)“. Somewhere else in the schedule is Andrew Haigh’s “A Long Winter“, waiting patiently to complicate matters.
And then there is Saturday.
Saturday begins with “Your Mother Your Mother Your Mother,” followed by the desire to see something else at essentially the same time, because TIFF has apparently decided that two films you desire should occur within ten minutes of each other. Fine. I see what we’re doing here.
Then, mercifully, at 2:30 p.m., Andrew Scott is In Conversation…
That one gets a seat.
Some choices require spreadsheets. Others require absolutely no discussion.
Sunday is where the illusion of sanity begins to crumble.
At 8:30 in the morning, there is “I Play Rocky“. Or at 8:40, there is Chris Rock’s “Misty Green“. At 11:45, there is “Babies“. Then the evening presents “Coward” and Jesse Eisenberg’s “The Debut” practically staring at each other across the aisle.
This is where TIFF scheduling becomes a philosophical exercise.
How badly do I want each film?
Which one is available through press?
Which one can I buy?
Which one has another screening?
Which one will I regret missing?
Which one can I realistically and logistically get to?
And, perhaps most importantly, which decision will allow me to stop looking at the schedule for five consecutive minutes?
At the moment, “The Debut” wins that particular argument.
Then comes “Bitter Christmas” at 9:20, because apparently I have learned nothing.
Monday is almost suspiciously civilized. A press screening of “Prima Facie” at 9:00. Naturally. And “Elsinore” hopefully at noon. “Coward” at 5:45. “Neverman” at 9:15.
There is even enough time between some of these screenings to imagine that I am a person who has control over his life.
Tuesday brings “Alpha Gang” in the morning and then another of those delicious TIFF decisions in the evening: “Possible Love” or “La Bola Negra“.
Except I have already outsmarted myself.
“La Bola Negra” is waiting for me the next morning.
So “Possible Love” gets the nod.
This is exactly what theTIFF schedule does to you. You begin thinking in layers. A screening is no longer just a screening. It is a screening, a backup screening, a press screening, a possible purchased ticket, a film you can move to another day, a film that might suddenly become essential after the first reviews appear, or a film that looked essential three weeks ago and has now been quietly pushed down the list by something else.
Wednesday is another example.
“La Bola Negra” at 9:30 in the morning. Without question.
“Ink” at 6:30 in the evening. One of the rare evening press screenings of the week.
Danny Boyle’s screen adaptation is waiting there in the middle of the day like a perfectly reasonable reason to miss a dentist appointment and rearrange everything around a possibility.
There are arrows.
There are alternatives.
Some films appear on multiple days. It’s like an organic chemistry class, but up there projected on the big screen rather than drawn out on the page.
There are screenings I have marked P because I am hoping to get them through press, and others marked BUY because I have decided that leaving them to chance is simply not worth the anxiety. Not to mention a few friends who are demanding some sort of engagement with me at TIFF.
“Elsinore” gets bought.
“I Play Rocky” gets another opportunity.
“Misty Green” gets another opportunity.
“Ink” gets another opportunity.
“The Assassin(s)” appears so many times that I am beginning to suspect it has its own apartment downtown.
And that is the beauty of it.
The TIFF schedule is full of these little negotiations between ambition and practicality. You make one choice, and three other choices move around it. You discover that seeing one film through press frees up a ticket for another. You realize that a morning screening gives you an afternoon you can use for writing. You spot a 9:30 screening and think, absolutely not, I have apparently reached the age where I require sleep.
Then you put it in the calendar anyway.
This is not indecision.
This is preparation.
At least that is what I am calling it.
Saturday, September 19 is almost luxurious by comparison. “Love of Your Life“. “Below“. “Club Kid“. “Everyone Wants to F*ck Me“. Enough space between screenings to breathe, write, eat something that did not come from a festival concession stand (wishful thinking), and perhaps briefly remember what the outside world looks like.
Then the final day, Sunday, September 20 arrives.
And this is where I have deliberately left a little room.
“Run Terry Run” at 10:00. If I don’t get a chance to see it at a press screening earlier.
A possible People’s Choice screening at noon.
“Elsinore” at 4:00. If I haven’t seen it already.
“The Diary of a Chambermaid“at 6:40.
And the last chance to see “The Assassin(s)” at 7:15.
But that noon slot has a question mark beside it.
Because by September 20, the TIFF schedule will no longer be the only thing making decisions.
The festival itself will have started making them.
Films that looked enormous on paper may have vanished from the conversation. A movie I barely had on my radar may suddenly be the one everyone is arguing about in the lobby. An actor may have delivered the performance people cannot stop talking about. A director may have turned a screening into an event. A film may have gone from “one I should probably see” to “how on earth did I almost miss this?”
So I have left a little space for that. For the film that wins the award.
Which may be the most sensible decision I have made in the entire schedule.
Or perhaps it is simply another excuse to keep rearranging the calendar.
Either way, I am ready.
The films are chosen. The alternatives are chosen. The press screenings are marked. The tickets will be bought in the order my schedule has demanded. The walking routes will eventually be calculated. And coffee will become strategically important.
Somewhere around 8:40 on September 10, when Mike Leigh begins the festival for me, I will probably look at my carefully constructed TIFF schedule and think that I have finally figured it out.
Then I will hear about another movie in line.
And I will need to open the calendar and take another look.
