TIFF at 50: John Candy Tears, Global Fears

The Toronto International Film Festival turned 50 this year — which in festival years is basically middle-aged: still trying to convince itself it’s cool, still throwing big parties, but now crying to John Candy clips at the bar.

Opening with Colin Hanks’ documentary John Candy: I Like Me, TIFF leaned all the way into nostalgia. It was emotional, it was proudly Canadian, and for one night, everyone forgot about distribution deals and just hugged it out with the ghost of Uncle Buck. This is TIFF at its best: sentimental, communal, deeply in love with its own identity. The festival framed itself as a national treasure — the kind of branding that hits straight in the chest.

But here’s the harder truth: while Toronto was busy passing tissues, the real power moves were happening across the Atlantic. Cannes and Venice have reasserted themselves as the big kids on the block. Cannes delivered its usual Croisette-as-catwalk glamour and global press frenzy, reminding everyone it still owns the red carpet economy. Venice, meanwhile, premiered buzzy titles like Father Mother Sister Brother and has become the Oscar kingmaker — the same festival that launched Poor Things and Oppenheimer into awards season glory.

Toronto? Less market, more memory lane. Yes, Peak Everything closed TIFF with climate commentary, giving audiences another standing ovation. But compared to Venice’s awards pipeline or Cannes’ glitz-driven market activity, TIFF risks being remembered more for emotional resonance than industry deals.

And speaking of Sundance — the onetime rebel brand that gave us CODA and Past Lives — it too is struggling. The snow and scrappiness remain, but big acquisitions have slowed. The contrast is stark: gondolas and Oscars in Venice versus snow boots and shrinking deals in Park City.

This isn’t just festival gossip; it’s a branding problem. Festivals are brands. Cannes is untouchable glam, Venice is the Oscar launchpad, Sundance is searching for a new narrative, and Toronto — once the industry’s September shopping spree — is drifting toward something softer: national pride, nostalgia, and standing ovations that don’t always translate into box office momentum.

The Candy tribute proves that identity can be sticky. Emotion works. But emotion alone doesn’t run markets. If TIFF wants to hold onto relevance, it can’t just be the world’s nicest nostalgia party. It needs a rebrand that balances heart with hard business: a way to sell both the sizzle of Canadian cinema pride and the steak of international industry deals.

Because here’s the brutal punchline: TIFF 50 gave us tears, nostalgia, and John Candy hugs. Venice gave us Oscar campaigns and distribution deals. Guess which RSVP Hollywood is already writing in pen for next year.