By: McKinzie Smith
It may be safe to say that none of us saw this coming. Outside of even this class, many Portland cinema-goers, myself included, look forward to the Portland International Film Festival every year. Though it had been lacking for me this year, there are few things more disappointing than an event cancellation. This week was full of those moments due to the COVID-19 outbreak. To flatten the curve, staying away from public places is becoming the norm. In this environment, PIFF could not continue. Even if I was disappointed with the event prior to its cancellation, it’s difficult to watch so much of our film community dissolve before our very eyes. Despite my complaints, PIFF remains in my heart.
I mentioned this in my review of Onward, but the elimination of the traditional PIFF categories was my main issue with the festival this year. Though Rastegar was talking about a more open kind of programming strategy in her article on the Women of Color Film Festival, she mentioned something that connects to my previous experiences with PIFF. “The work of programming… became not about selecting the films, but arranging them into programs that would enable unexpected connections.” (Rastegar 189) The multiple PIFF programs created a more holistic experience. If you’re a horror buff, going to PIFF After Dark provided a diverse range of horror films that diverged from trends and tried to “push the boundaries.” Other categories, like Ways of Seeing or New Directors, encouraged engagement with work on a more formal level, as opposed to emphasizing the exotic/cultural experience often inherent to an “international” festival. Just because a film is from Chile, for instance, doesn’t necessarily mean it has something to say about being Chilean.
Seeing a number of films from different programs allowed me to make connections between films, both within their own program and to films in other programs. It made the festival into a guided learning experience. Placing films in a framework of understanding is an important part of the work a festival can do. PIFF choosing to do away with categories and mixing everything together feels like a missed opportunity. As a film scholar, it makes me wish for more; as a consumer, it makes it harder to figure out which films I should go see. These themed programs were sorely missed by many of those I talked to while volunteering. Next year, I’d love to see PIFF go back to that.
Many of the films I saw were just as moving as films I’ve seen in previous years. It Must Be Heaven, Nîpawistamâsowin: We Will Stand Up, and Martin Eden were all stunning in different ways. However, I did notice a higher number of duds than usual. It may be tempting to say that it was just an off year, but I think this connects back to the missing programs as well. Looking through the PIFF schedule book, it could be difficult to tell what the tone or form of a film was going to be. For instance, I thought The World is Full of Secrets was going to be a traditional horror movie, but it was more of an experimental film akin to a visual podcast. I wouldn’t have gone to see the film had I known that and I can’t say that I got much out of it. If The World is Full of Secrets had been in the Ways of Seeing program, as it may have been in previous years, a more appropriate framework could have been set and I would not have been misled.
All of that being said, I still enjoyed my time with PIFF this year. Volunteering is a consistent joy in my life. I’m one of the youngest volunteers, so it has a tendency to bring me out of my comfort zone to talk about film with people I ordinarily wouldn’t interact with (or who wouldn’t ordinarily interact with me). I love seeing people’s reactions as they leave a film; it ranges from awe to disgust, but both emotions are part of the fun. After all, a bad PIFF film is better than no PIFF films at all.
That brings us to the current state of things. As quarantine set in, the Film Center realized it might be time to pack it in. The festival was cancelled on Thursday, March 12, with a promise in the official cancellation email that “PIFF 2.0” would be coming somewhere down the line. Considering how torn apart the Portland film community is right now, it’s important to have something to look forward to and I think the Northwest Film Center/PIFF coordinators know this.
Compared to other major cities, Portland has a small film community. PIFF has been helping to build up this community for decades. I’d say it’s one of our major film institutions, along with the Hollywood Theatre and Movie Madness. Like other cities with large festivals, the idea is to “seek to build on their attractions, festival images, and sense of unique local culture with each passing festival season.” (Stringer 141) When a festival is cancelled, an opportunity to raise up the film culture of a city is lost. PIFF is a part of our “unique local culture,” whether one cares much for it or not. It brings people to our city for film specifically which, as students of film in Portland, we should all be able to agree is a good thing.
The amount of cancellations and closures during this time is staggering. The disappearance of these events and institutions makes cultivation of film culture nearly impossible. It’s given me a sense of hopelessness as I prepare to graduate and head into a now-closed job market. Fears of the pandemic itself aside, our community and livelihoods have been ripped away from us. That is a terrifying thing, as privileged as it may sound when lives are on the line. Theaters were already in a precarious position as more and more people come to value streaming over the theater experience, so I think it’s valid to wonder if we can ever truly bounce back from this.
That’s the pessimistic side of me, anyway. Another part of me says to look backward to the early days of Winter term and, really, to the early days of cinephilia itself. In the past few days, my friends have begun asking me to set up online screenings of films. Every day at 5:30PM, depending on how many people can join, we watch a film together through a service called Kast. It’s certainly not the cinema, but it’s something. It’s exhibition, regardless of its lack of a physical space. As Wim Wenders wrote of Henri Langlois, “the Cinémathéque was not just a place where films were shown–it was rather that the cinema itself was present there.” (Roud xxv)
To put it simply: Cinema will exist whether there is a set exhibition space for it or not. Langlois moved the Cinémathéque around multiple times throughout his life, including into his mother’s apartment. We do what we must to keep the spirit of film alive. As surreal as it is, 2020 has forced cinema underground again. It’s disheartening at first, but there is opportunity to be had. Even if exhibitors have to move online, or to very small, very clean spaces, we will do it. It is not a peripheral concern, it is one of my primary concerns. Without cinema, hope is lost. I am doing my part by screening for small groups of people online. It is all I can do, so it is what I must do.
PIFF has vowed to continue as soon as it is safe. They have done so with no guarantee that people will be back, either because of illness or of fear. Regardless of uncertainty, coming back is a step in the right direction. When we come out of this, things will be difficult. However, we as a community must not stop doing what we love. PIFF has problems. Every festival does. Nevertheless, they’re a huge part of what makes our film culture so rich. If they will be coming back, so will I.
Bibliography
Rastegar, Roya. “Seeing Differently: The curatorial potential of film festival programming.” Film Festivals: History, Theory, Method, Practice, Taylor & Francis Group, pg. 189.
Roud, Richard. “Introduction.” A Passion for Films, John Hopkins University Press, 1983, pg. xxv.
Stringer, Julian. “Global Cities and the International Festival Economy.” Cinema and the City, Blackwell Publishing, 2001, pg. 141.
PSU School of Film @ PIFF 