What Is This TV Show Doing in My Film Festival?

As a seasoned cinephile who’s been attending film festivals since the days of Betamax, I must admit that the blurring lines between cinema and television has brought about an intriguing shift in the landscape of our beloved art form. It’s like watching a game of cinematic musical chairs, with everyone scrambling to grab a seat on the smaller screen.

Just as some comedians have turned to prescription medication like Ozempic or online recappers have moved to summarizing shows on platforms, prestigious film festivals like Cannes and TIFF have started venturing into television production. This trend has been growing since 2017 when Cannes screened episodes of Twin Peaks: The Return, but it really took off after the pandemic made it hard to distinguish between movies and TV shows. Last year, Cannes debuted the controversial series The Idol, TIFF aired an extended episode of Lulu Wang’s Expats, and the New York Film Festival premiered the first three parts of Showtime’s The Curse. If you don’t show at least one TV episode directed by an A24 producer, are you even considered a legitimate festival?

This year, unlike any other film festival, Venice has given significant attention to television productions. The lineup boasts an impressive four television projects from renowned directors. Among them is “Disclaimer” by Alfonso Cuarón, based on Renée Knight’s 2015 novel, premiering on AppleTV+ in October. Following is “Families Like Ours,” a Danish survival series about climate change, directed by Thomas Vinterberg from “Another Round.” Next up is “The New Years” by Rodrigo Sorogoyen, a romantic tale spanning over a decade. Lastly, there’s Joe Wright’s “M. Son of the Century,” a miniseries detailing the rise of Benito Mussolini, set to air on British TV next year. Notably, each series will be screened in its entirety at the festival.

It’s quite clear why such projects would find Venice appealing: They gain additional prestige and receive high-profile premieres that make them more noticeable among the multitude of series being released on streaming platforms each month. The festivals also profit from this, gaining another chance to capture starry moments and preserve connections with a group of filmmakers who are becoming increasingly accustomed to working in television. However, it’s the journalists on-site who often find themselves in disarray, as an entire season of TV can cause quite a headache when organizing a film festival schedule. Can you imagine the turmoil?

Despite having some accompanying impacts, this setup presents an interesting contrast. For instance, the abundance of TV productions makes us noticeably aware of Netflix’s scarcity at Venice. It’s been two years since the festival launched with Noah Baumbach’s “White Noise,” and during that time, Netflix didn’t have any films in competition until recently acquiring Pablo Larraín’s “Maria” just before its premiere. This situation has led us unintentionally into one of the most heated debates among contemporary critics: should a TV season aim to resemble a ten-hour movie or something else entirely? It is also worth mentioning that Cannes played a role in this, as they started the trend when they premiered “Twin Peaks: The Return.” If French cinephiles hadn’t chosen to showcase this project, perhaps their peers at “Cahiers du Cinéma” would not have dared to name it the best film of the 2010s, sparking a discussion that continues today.

One reason people take issue with long TV series being called “ten-hour movies” is that this claim often isn’t accurate. Unlike films, television shows are typically produced more quickly and cost-effectively. The intriguing aspect of the show Disclaimer, which was the first in its genre to screen at the Lido, lies in its demonstration of the challenges associated with producing a series like a ten-hour movie. Remarkably, this is an instance where the statement holds true: This limited series was actually filmed much like a six-hour movie.

It’s worth noting that while Venice might have been excited to announce Alfonso Cuarón’s debut TV series, this isn’t quite accurate – he co-created the now defunct NBC show Believe in 2014. However, since it’s his first project since Roma, released six years ago, it certainly warrants attention. In this production, Cate Blanchett portrays Catherine Ravenscroft, a British documentary maker who, in many ways, resembles a kinder Lydia Tár. Her life takes an unexpected turn when she receives a manuscript that seems to be connected to a secret she’s kept hidden for two decades. Interestingly, the manuscript was sent by Stephen Brigstocke (played by Kevin Kline), a widower who lives alone and believes Catherine is responsible for his son’s death, Jonathan (portrayed by Louis Partridge in scenes that could be flashbacks or dramatized versions of the manuscript’s content).

In many modern TV shows, Disclaimer appears to be highly refined, yet it often falls short of living up to its potential. Characters who aren’t even intended to be characters in a script sometimes struggle to act like real people. However, unlike most contemporary TV, it boasts an impressive visual style, filled with stunning long takes and intricate deep-focus shots that would make Orson Welles proud. The Mexican director disclosed at the show’s press conference that this aesthetic is achieved because he filmed the entire series in a manner similar to his movies.

Alfonso Cuarón admitted that when it came to managing a TV show, he was out of his depth. Instead, they treated the entire project as if it were a movie. However, contrary to what some showrunners might claim as a source of pride, Cuarón considered this decision a misstep.

A tale of heroic endurance, overstretched ambition, and vast expense? Maybe this thing deserves to be called a movie after all.

2024-08-30 23:54

What Is This TV Show Doing in My Film Festival?

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