OPINION: A niche film problem that only affects me

Here’s a niche problem that affects exactly zero percent of you but has been a major headache to me.

Recently, I’ve been fascinated by film festivals, not just the current ones but the historical precedent they represent. In doing so, an idea has been sprouting branches in the back of my head for a while: is it possible to recreate the screening schedule of a historical film festival?

Quick answer, not exactly. It would be impossible to see every movie. There’s a few logistical reasons such as overlapping screenings at multiple theaters and the fact that time is constraining. These are all understandable issues that would have existed in the original schedule.

That’s part of why it’s so fun to explore hypothetical schedules. Maybe it’s a trait I’ve yet to uncover where I like creating itineraries for travel.

There’s been two frustrating issues when exploring these hypothetical schedules. One is actually obtaining an archived schedule.

It’s not very common to archive a screening schedule from a film festival. These usually come in little booklets or press releases. These schedules were only meant to be used during the festival and have no use after the festival ends. Except to hypothetical dreamers like me.

There are some fests that are great about archival (Telluride for example has their programs since 2006 archived and accessible). But this isn’t always the case.

Take for instance the current project I’m working on. I’ve been piecing together a pseudo-schedule of the 2016 Cannes Film Festival. To actually obtain a screening schedule, I had to find a random pdf uploaded by someone who just happened to have the program guide saved to their computer.

As far as I know, Cannes doesn’t have the old schedule publicly available. They have a dead link on a 2016 press release, most likely meaning the original file was deleted or moved at some point.

This is perfectly normal to do. These schedules no longer matter after the festival ends. But for my specific hypothetical, and in the interest of archival purposes, I find it disappointing to have to work around these limitations.

What’s more dangerous is the lack of availability the films shown at these festivals can have after they premiere.

International films can have pretty tough endeavors to obtain U.S. distribution. But it’s not impossible. Oftentimes, festival films are sentenced to digital storefronts like Amazon Video or Apple TV. Because these films are often unheard of outside their presence at the festival, this release strategy makes sense.

Still, there are times when movies from a festival don’t have a legal, digital release. Maybe it never found a distributor, or maybe there is a perception the movie might not sell in the U.S. Either way, it’s disappointing.

Whether or not the movies are good doesn’t matter (even at a film festival there will always be some stinkers). Their presence at a major festival matters and they should, one day, be available to all.

Modern film festivals have been much better about this, but my look at Cannes 2016 has revealed a few movies from then that have zero availability in the U.S. These include Romanian black comedy “Sieranevada,” Filipino drama “Ma’ Rosa” and Palestinian drama “Personal Affairs.”

I’ve found copies in not-so-clean ways (thanks to help from my film friends who are somehow even more neurotic about movies than me), but I find myself frustrated every time I have to turn that way. There is historical importance to these movies; why can’t they be available almost 10 years later?

All of those movies competed and premiered alongside movies like “Captain Fantastic,” “Hell or High Water,” “Paterson,” “The Salesman,” “The Handmaiden,” “The Nice Guys,” “Train to Busan,” “The Wailing” and “American Honey.” (There is a chance you’ve never heard of these movies, in which case I recommend all of them!)

The most frustrating unavailable film is “It’s Only the End of the World,” a French queer drama which was picked up by Netflix in 2016. One would think there is safety there, but in recent years the movie has disappeared from the streaming service. No words, no justification, no plan for it to appear elsewhere.

I understand how ultra-specific this issue is. There is genuinely no good reason why I should be so concerned with something like this in comparison to, like, paying rent.

This is still history. The curation which originally brought these movies together still matters, and the collection these festivals present represent worldwide filmmakers coming together to celebrate their art.

We’re outside the traditional window of these films selling to distributors or making their money back. To be honest, if these were on digital storefronts, it would be much easier to just purchase them! But, for whatever reason, they haven’t found a home in the U.S.

I raise a white flag for trying to look beyond the internet age at pre-Y2K festivals. I can’t imagine how frustrating this is to a real film historian when I get such a headache from my amateurish, fanboy-like reconstruction.

Otherwise, I’ve been having fun with my personal, hypothetical reconstruction. I just wish I didn’t have to connect the dots myself.