This time of year marks the end of the “festival season”—and, almost immediately, the beginning of the next one.I’m just back from the BFI London Film Festival and have taken a beat to reflect on what was the final stop in my May-to-October Festival-palooza.

I am mid-Fall Festival Frenzy. Venice, Telluride and TIFF are behind us. We’re mid-New York Film Festival and heading toward the BFI London Film Festival. There has been a massive amount of overlap. For festival junkies, that almost makes the films that don’t overlap more interesting. Every festival this fall seems to have its handful of must-see films: Wild Horse Nine, Elsinore, Musk, Tender Loving Care, Bunker and others that appeared over and over again on festival sched

We took a group to Venice this year and it was everything I hoped it would be—a fantastic festival, a lovely group of cinephiles, an amazing cultural experience, great food and, most importantly, really fun conversations about the films! Because, of course — rarely does everyone agree. One person's masterpiece is another person's two hours they'll never get back. So, with that in mind, here are my one-second reviews of what I saw in Venice and Toronto.

I’m making my way to Venice now, with a few festival-related diversions along the way. Yesterday, in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, I met with Mark Pruett at The Music Hall, a spectacular historic theater with one of the most eclectic programming schedules imaginable—from the New Hampshire Film Festival to Jordan Klepper to a live Golden Girls reboot. It was fascinating to hear how the Music Hall balances live programming with film and to learn about the theater’s renovation plan

Other species communicate. They warn one another of danger, teach their young, recognize family and remember. But as far as we know, we are the only species that takes experience—something that happened yesterday, a thousand years ago, or never happened at all—and turns it into a story. And we've been doing it for as long as we've been human. Long before there were books, movie theaters, television screens—or film festivals—there were stories.

Last week I wrote about something I have been thinking about recently: what happens when we watch a film together, in a theater, as opposed to alone at home. And then this week I came across a review in The New York Times of the documentary The Last Picture House, about the independent movie theaters and art houses that are slowly disappearing.

Because Venice and London are on the horizon, all week-long people have been asking me which film festival is my favorite. I addressed this previously by saying it is akin to asking someone which is their favorite child. For most, that is impossible to say. When someone asks that question, they are usually trying to decide between Venice and London and possibly Cannes….and it's a fair question. Recently though, I’ve come to realize it might be the wrong question.

The first time I saw Jason and the Argonauts I was a little kid and saw it screened on the beach during summer vacation. I remember sitting on the beach chair, the feel of the cold sand on my feet, the huge bag of grocery store popcorn shared amongst my group of siblings and friends and the anticipation as we waited for it to be dark enough to start the film.

Every great film festival has its own personality. Cannes is the center of the film business. Toronto is a celebration of audiences and awards-season buzz. London brings together cinema and one of the world's great cultural capitals and has also become a launchpad for the awards season. But Venice is something else entirely. What makes Venice unique is that it isn't just home to the world's oldest film festival. It is also home to the Venice Biennale, one of the most importan

With Christopher Nolan's adaptation of The Odyssey opening nationwide today many have been discussing some of the central themes of Homer’s epic work. I too have found myself thinking back to my Vassar classical mythology class and vaguely remembering that one of the main themes in the poem was hospitality.

Thinking about Independence Day I started wondering about the “independent films” we exhibit, champion and love. And here is my question: Are independent films really independent? The answer, of course, is complicated. Independent films still need financing, distribution, marketing, and investors. Every filmmaker has to answer to someone. Independence in film doesn't necessarily mean freedom from economic realities. What it often means is something else entirely.

This week I attended IND/EX in Chicago — The Independent Film Exhibition Conference which is a co-production of the Art House Convergence and the Film Festival Alliance. It is a gathering of independent cinemas, art house leaders, and people who believe very much in the power of film to bring communities together. Now back in Los Angeles and reflecting on my experience, I’m realizing how comfortable and at home I felt.

This week, I received an unexpected email. From Russia! It began: "I'm writing to you because your recent newsletter about Cannes took a rather adventurous detour straight into my Spam folder. Out of curiosity, I took a look inside, read your letter, and I must say — I'm really glad I did." The note was from filmmaker, who had read my reflections on Cannes and about my transition to Take2Film.

I recently came across a lengthy online discussion posing this very question, and the responses were remarkably divided. Those who favor Cannes point to its unmatched concentration of notable films, global industry influence, and role as the premier launchpad for cinema. Venice enthusiasts, meanwhile, make an equally compelling case, praising the festival's elegance, distinctive programming, and uniquely atmospheric setting. What emerged from the discussion was a broad consen

After 37 years as Founder and Director of The American Pavilion at Cannes, returning to the festival in a completely different role seemed daunting. Unimaginable. Frightening. Weird. Discombobulating. Fun and liberating. It was all of the above. Returning under the banner of my wholly new venture, Take2Film — after such a singular focus for so many years, attending Cannes in another way was a gift.

Cannes begins next week. And for the next two weeks, a small stretch of beach on the French Riviera becomes the center of the film world. It’s easy to imagine Cannes as red carpets and premieres. And yes, of course, those moments exist—the flash of cameras, the pause at the top of the steps, the feeling that something important is about to happen. But that’s not really Cannes. It's just a part of it.

This year’s Cannes Film Festival poster captures a moment in time. Geena Davis and Susan Sarandon — Thelma & Louise — suspended in that instant of freedom, defiance, and consequence. It’s an image that has never really belonged to the past. And somehow, it feels especially present now. When Thelma & Louise premiered at Cannes, it wasn’t just a film — it was a statement. About autonomy. About friendship. About what happens when women refuse to stay within the lines drawn for t

London brings the series to a close in its own distinctive way. Set against one of the world’s great cultural capitals, the BFI London Film Festival unfolds across the city—its screenings, conversations, and events woven into a broader artistic landscape of theatre, museums, and music. The festival itself is expansive yet carefully curated, drawing together international cinema, emerging voices, and major premieres. It carries a certain balance.

San Sebastián is not defined by scale or spectacle, but by something more enduring—a deep connection to cinema, to culture, and to place. Set along the Basque coastline, the festival carries a distinct sense of identity. The programming is thoughtful and international, often bringing together established voices and emerging filmmakers in a way that feels both curated and quietly adventurous.

Following Cannes, the natural question is: what comes next? Venice answers that differently. Set against the quiet movement of the lagoon, Venice unfolds with a kind of composure. The pace is more measured. The experience, more contained. You begin to notice different things— not just the films, but the spaces around them, the conversations that have room to breathe.

Over the coming weeks, we’ll turn our attention to each of the major festivals—considering what distinguishes them, and why each offers a different kind of experience. It feels only right to begin with Cannes.

If you’re exploring Take2Film, you may be wondering which festival to choose. It’s a natural question. But the answer has less to do with the films—and everything to do with the kind of experience you’re drawn to.

Thirty-seven years ago, I fell in love with a film festival. Not just the films — though the films were everything. It was the world around them. The conversations at midnight. The accidental encounter with a director whose work you've followed for a decade. The feeling, walking down the Croisette at dusk, that cinema is alive and so are you.