All the stars, all the scandals, all the cocaine and all the champagne – none of it would have happened if a Toronto lawyer named Dusty Cohl didn’t snag a primo parking spot in front of Cannes’s Carlton Hotel back in 1960.
That, at least, is the too-good-to-question origin story of the Toronto International Film Festival. It just so happened that the Carlton was the Cannes Film Festival’s boozy, Hollywood-heavy clubhouse and Cohl unwittingly pulled up in the middle of it during a European vacation with his wife. The fateful decision would lead Cohl, Bill Marshall and Henk Van der Kolk to start their own thing back home.
Across five decades, TIFF has not only changed the way movies around the world are made and marketed, but it has also fundamentally altered the identity of a city, maybe even a country. On the festival’s 50th anniversary, The Globe and Mail presents the 50 moments that made TIFF Canada’s brightest, glitziest and most inescapable cultural institution.
1976 Festival of Festivals poster.TIFF/Supplied
1976: The loan
Launched as the Festival of Festivals in the middle of October, the inaugural event would be unrecognizable to today’s TIFF-goer. The tickets were just $6, the venues were historic (and now long gone) and there was no real funding to speak of. Except for a last-minute $125,000 loan secured from the CIBC branch at 2 Bloor West, which – combined with some credit cards – was enough to put on an 80-film, seven-day extravaganza.
1977: Timing shift
After luring 7,000 people a day for their first edition, organizers upped the celebrity quotient (the first year had Fred “The Hammer” Williamson, the second had Henry Winkler at the height of his Fonzie fame), while shifting the timing to early September. Back then, there was no “awards season.” But soon, Toronto’s post-Labour Day slot would give it a crucial calendar advantage, the festival becoming the unofficial starting line of the Oscar race.
1978: In Praise of Older Women
Ushers restrain a man who was denied entry to In Praise of Older Women.Tibor Kolley/The Globe and Mail
Every festival needs its first scandal. After earning the ire of the Ontario Censor Board, the Canadian drama In Praise of Older Women became the hottest ticket in town – and thanks to a printing error, those tickets mistakenly allowed guests to claim a plus-one.
Which is how 3,200-plus people showed up at the 1,600-seat Elgin Theatre on opening night. “That kind of hysteria has never been repeated,” recalls producer Robert Lantos, who rode up to the premiere in a horse-drawn carriage. “It was incredibly intense, but in hindsight, it’s a very fond memory.”
1979: Best Boy
Ira Wohl’s documentary Best Boy, about the director’s mentally handicapped cousin, came to the city with little buzz. But after it won the People’s Choice Award, it became the first Toronto world premiere to make the leap to the Oscars podium, winning the Academy Award for Best Documentary in 1980.
Best Boy director Ira Wohl appears at the festival’s gala opening.James Lewcun/The Globe and Mail
1980: Jean-Luc Godard
Under the watchful eye of festival director Wayne Clarkson, programmer Peter Harcourt convinced Godard, the father of French New Wave cinema, to attend a retrospective in his honour. It was a coup that established Toronto’s art-house bona fides – and it only cost the festival $1,000 in U.S. currency, which Godard demanded in order to secure his participation.
1981: Diva
The obvious headline of ’81 was Chariots of Fire going from the People’s Choice Award to the Oscar for best picture. But the year’s real flashpoint was programmer David Overby’s decision to screen Jean-Jacques Beineix’s Diva, whose premiere sparked a North American bidding war and compelled its French distributor to re-release the film after it had initially flamed out in Paris. “I was with the head of United Artists, and he was so impressed with the Toronto response that he bought it immediately,” recalls former programmer Linda Beath. “Jean-Jacques was in tears.”
1982: Martin Scorsese
Somehow, the festival convinced Gene Siskel and Roger Ebert to host a gala tribute to the Raging Bull director, who invited Robert De Niro and Harvey Keitel. “Those people were as hot as you could get,” says Helga Stephenson, who was working festival publicity. “It was through the tribute to Scorsese, then Robert Duvall and Warren Beatty, that the celebrity era took over.”
1983: The Big Chill
Columbia Pictures didn’t have much faith in The Big Chill’s cast, led by Jeff Goldblum, William Hurt and Glenn Close.
In what would become a trend, Toronto benefitted from studio obliviousness after Columbia Pictures tossed Lawrence Kasdan’s drama to the festival, not sure what to make of its young, mostly untested cast (Jeff Goldblum, Glenn Close, William Hurt). “That was a key inflection point,” says Piers Handling, who joined the programming team in ‘82. “It uncovered a new generation of American actors and it turned Hollywood’s head to Toronto.”
1984: Perspectives Canada
Homegrown filmmakers got a major boost after the launch of this Canada-focused program. Yet the series became as much a source of contention as pride. “There was a group of filmmakers who decided it was a ghettoization and didn’t want to have that separate banner,” says director Atom Egoyan (Exotica, The Sweet Hereafter). “But it meant a lot in those early years.”
1985: Joshua Then and Now
For its 10th anniversary, the fest opened with what was the most expensive movie ever produced in Canada. Yet the Mordecai Richler adaptation also proved to be a critical reality-check moment, with the film’s post-Toronto life kneecapped by a corporate changeover inside its U.S. distributor.
1986: Leonard Schein era
Leonard Schein, right, only lasted one year at the helm of the festival before Helga Stephenson took over in 1987.
After Clarkson departed to become head of the Ontario Film Development Corporation, Vancouver International Film Festival chief Schein was brought in for a short-lived run. “Leonard’s vision was very … different,” says Stephenson, who succeeded Schein the following year.
1987: The Princess Bride
Bucking a trend that still exists today, the festival’s closing-night film proved not to be a dud but rather a genuine hit, with organizers going the extra mile to welcome André the Giant by constructing a custom chair to fit the actor’s 7-foot-4 frame.
1988: Dead Ringers
Claire Niveau (Geneviève Bujold) sits between Elliot and Beverly Mantle (both played by Jeremy Irons) in a scene from Dead Ringers.DAVID CRONENBERG/MARK BOYMAN/TIFF
David Cronenberg got his hometown hero moment when his gynecological psychodrama opened the fest. “I was at the Elgin that night,” remembers future festival CEO Cameron Bailey, “and it was clearly a risk on Piers and Helga’s part, because I could see people squirming in their seats.” The year wasn’t short on squirms, either, with Handling and Noah Cowan launching the influential Midnight Madness program that same edition.
1989: Roger & Me
Michael Moore’s General Motors documentary launched both the director’s career and the box-office potential of doc cinema. “I was on my way to the world premiere, walking up University Avenue, and there was Michael, leading this blue-collar entourage,” says Brian D. Johnson, author of Brave Films, Wild Nights: 25 Years of Festival Fever. “It was a madhouse in the theatre.”
1990: Ontario Film Institute
By taking over the provincially run OFI, the fest graduated from a 10-day event into a year-round organization. The initiative eventually expanded into the TIFF Cinematheque screening program led by James Quandt, with the fest also becoming guardian of the OFI’s massive research library.
1991: Toronto New Wave
Atom Egoyan won best Canadian film of the year for The Adjuster. He gave his $25,000 in prize money to neophyte Canadian director John Pozer.Peter Tym/The Globe and Mail
With the premieres of Egoyan’s The Adjuster, Bruce McDonald’s Highway 61 and (in its own way) Deepa Mehta’s Sam & Me, a new film movement was born, populated by a group of rebellious Torontonians who frequently collaborated with one another to produce scrappy, subversive cinema.
1992: Reservoir Dogs
Quentin Tarantino’s debut feature was a sensation at Sundance, but its Toronto debut was where a new era of indie U.S. film began. “Quentin was like a puppy dog, he was all over the place, going to every movie that he could,” recalls Stephenson. “The wonderful thing about the festival is that you get to be there at the beginning of so many careers.”
1993: Thirty Two Short Films About Glenn Gould
François Girard’s drama swooped into Toronto after a sensational premiere in Venice. “We were always waiting for the Hollywood phone call the day after a Toronto premiere. And for years, it didn’t happen,” says producer Niv Fichman, one of the few people able to boast of attending every single edition of the fest. “But the next day, the call comes in from Samuel Goldwyn Company in L.A., wanting to buy the film.”
1994: Toronto goes “international”
With Handling taking over from Stephenson, the Festival of Festivals officially became the Toronto International Film Festival. “There was certainly resistance on the board level,” recalls Handling. “But you couldn’t go to Berlin or Cannes with one hand tied behind your back by not having ‘Toronto’ in the name.”
1995: Planet Africa launch
As TIFF was introducing local audiences to global cinema one region at a time, Bailey’s Planet Africa program helped cement the festival’s international standing. “Cameron has amazing relationships, and Planet Africa was essential,” says director Clement Virgo (Rude, Brother). “It’s not only a festival for local filmmakers, but voices around the world.”
1996: Stars align
American entertainer and actor Cher attends TIFF with Demi Moore, behind.Tibor Kolley/The Globe and Mail
Cher, Al Pacino, Dustin Hoffman, Tom Hanks, Anjelica Huston and Demi Moore (whose massive entourage arrived via private jet) turned the fest into red meat for the tabloid press. But ultimately, audiences gave a tiny star-free Australian film named Shine the People’s Choice Award – another marker of Toronto’s Nostradamus-like ability to predict Oscars champions.
1997: Midnight Madness reboot
While Cowan had kept Midnight humming since ’88, the cult-film program got a supersized injection of blood, guts and kung fu when Colin Geddes became its co-programmer. Soon, TIFF’s 11:59 p.m. slate would introduce the world to Takashi Miike, Bong Joon-ho, Gareth Evans and so many other filmmakers working on the very bleeding edge.
1998: Last Night
Directors Don McKellar, left, and Robert Lepage were the big Canadian winners at TIFF in 1998.RENE JOHNSTON/CP
Don McKellar’s apocalyptic Toronto dramedy arrived for its hometown premiere basking in the afterglow of its Cannes debut. “People sometimes accuse this country of tall poppy syndrome, and of being petty about us not accepting our own successes. But I sure didn’t feel that on that night – it was so warm and wonderful,” says McKellar, who got his start at the fest working as a manager at the Uptown, “where someone was dealing cocaine out of the concession booth.” Meanwhile, in a key moment of TIFF management and growth, Michèle Maheux, who started out in the press office, ascends to managing director.
1999: American Beauty
Plenty of Hollywood films passed through TIFF on their way to critical and box-office success – but nothing like Sam Mendes’s juggernaut. “DreamWorks didn’t know what to do with this film because it was so dark, and they didn’t have a lot of experience with festivals,” recalls Handling. “I remember nervous discussions with the executives just before the premiere. They wanted to capture the critics and talk to them directly, and the critics came here.”
2000: Maelstrom
Before Denis Villeneuve was commanding armies on Arrakis, he was one of many young Québécois directors hoping to plant a flag at TIFF. “It was a great period of work coming from Quebec, like Denis, Bernard Émond, Catherine Martin,” says former long-time Canadian film programmer Steve Gravestock. “And they still do. But that was a moment.”
2001: 9/11
In the wake of 9/11, TIFF cancelled dozens of screenings but resumed the festival for its final four days.
In due time, TIFF would get derailed by one geopolitical crisis after another. But midway through its 2001 edition, the fest had no playbook on how to react to such a tragedy. “Are we going forward? Are we cancelling? We had to make these decisions in about two hours,” says Handling, who scrubbed 50 screenings but resumed the fest for its final four days. “We took out all the commercial, celebratory elements and focused entirely on the films.”
2002: Cabin Fever
Achieving the dream of every young filmmaker out there, a cocky nobody named Eli Roth walked into TIFF with his low-budget horror flick and walked out the hottest kid on the block. “I rescued that film from the reject bin,” recalls Midnight programmer Geddes. “And it started a huge bidding war, even though Miramax had rejected it earlier because they wanted an alien in it. You couldn’t put a flesh-eating virus onto a video box to sell a movie, was their excuse.”
2003: SARS
A man checks out the 2003 screening schedule at the Cumberland movie theatre.Donald Weber/Getty Images
If only SARS-era programmers knew how easy they would have it compared with their future COVID-shaken selves. “The person who saved my life was Neil Young,” says Handling. “He’d directed a film called Greendale, and he wanted to come. On the basis of that, when studios asked me, ‘Is anyone even coming?’ I’d say, ‘Yup, Neil Young.’ We just needed one name.”
2004: Montreal World Film Festival collapse
The once-intense rivalry between TIFF and its competitor across the 401 was definitively quashed in 2004 after Serge Losique’s festival came under intense scrutiny from its funders. (The MWFF limped on for more than a decade, folding in 2019.) “Serge was always outraged that I’d choose Toronto for my films,” says producer Lantos, “especially for my films that were set in Montreal.”
2005: Water
Deepa Mehta captured the attention of Toronto – and the rest of the world – like never before with the final instalment in her Elemental trilogy (after 1996’s Fire and 1998’s Earth). “The festival helped me get to know other Canadian filmmakers, artists who gave me confidence to be who I am,” she says today. “David Cronenberg’s generosity when Water opened the festival, he was so kind. It’s the filmmakers who make the festival.”
2006: Borat
Sacha Baron Cohen arrives at the premiere of Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan.Evan Agostini/Getty Images
What could be more outrageous than Sacha Baron Cohen pulling up to his premiere in a cart pulled by faux-peasant women? Perhaps if the projector broke down in the middle of the screening. “Getting yelled at by Ari Emanuel and the execs at Fox has only made me stronger,” Geddes says, recalling that Cohen remained in character during the chaos. “There was buzz about the problem being a publicity stunt. But it definitely was not.”
2007: Brangelina
Today, that portmanteau conjures a feeling more queasy than star-struck, given Angelina Jolie’s abuse claims against Brad Pitt. But at the time – the same year that Time magazine labelled TIFF “the most influential film festival, period” – the couple turned a portion of downtown into a no-go zone as fans flooded Yonge Street for a glimpse of them during the premiere of Pitt’s The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford.
2008: Slumdog Millionaire
Critics Lou Lumenick and Roger Ebert, shown, got into an infamous confrontation during a screening of Slumdog Millionaire.
Danny Boyle’s rags-to-riches film about a Mumbai orphan began its life as something of an orphan itself. “Warner Independent’s plan was just to release the film on home video – and only in India,” Bailey recalls. “But when we communicated our enthusiasm for it, and as it changed hands from Warner to Fox Searchlight, that made a difference. It just exploded here.” So much so that one Slumdog screening saw a physical confrontation erupt between NY Post critic Lou Lumenick and a cancer-suffering Roger Ebert.
2009: Tel Aviv spotlight
The festival is no stranger to Middle East conflict thanks to its 2009 decision to highlight Tel Aviv cinema as part of its long-running (and now defunct) City to City program. After Canadian filmmaker John Greyson pulled his short film from the fest, citing Israeli action in Gaza, artists from around the world joined the protest.
2010: TIFF (Bell) Lightbox
TIFF Bell Lightbox in 2010.Sarah Dea/The Globe and Mail
After years of planning, TIFF’s five-cinema headquarters opened just in time for the festival. While Handling proclaimed that the building would “put Toronto on the international map year-round,” it has struggled to attract visitors outside festival season, with its vaunted gallery space sitting largely unused since 2017. “It’s become the iconic centre, but during the festival it’s a complete fiasco, overly crowded and badly designed,” says producer Fichman, who was on the building’s architectural selection committee. “It’s a crazy missed opportunity.”
2011: TIFF Noir
Now in the business of operating a year-round multiplex, TIFF needed to find new and inventive ways to bring in cash. Enter the quiet 2011 launch of this invitation-only program, which allows premium access to festival premieres: “No tickets. No lineups. No sold-out screenings. Simply all of the unparalleled and exclusive privileges you deserve.” At the start, such freedom costs $25,000 annually. Today, it’s $44,000.
2012: Looper
Nelly Fertado, Noah Reid and Allie MacDonald led 2010’s Score: A Hockey Musical, one of the festival’s more wobbly opening-night galas.
After a spate of disappointing opening-night films – hello, 2010’s Score: A Hockey Musical – TIFF snagged a title that hit the sweet spots of celebrity (Bruce Willis) and quality (it was actually good). Most importantly, Looper solidified Toronto’s relationship with director Rian Johnson, who would debut all of his Knives Out films at the fest.
2013: Can a Song Save Your Life
Today, no one much remembers this Keira Knightley-Mark Ruffalo film (partially because it was retitled Begin Again). But when it played TIFF, the title sparked a feverish bidding war, with the (pre-#MeToo) Weinstein Company ponying up $27-million for the U.S. distribution rights. It was the megaproducer’s highest-priced deal yet, and a sign that TIFF was just as much a platform for major-studio awards contenders as it was an unofficial market for buying and selling independently financed films.
2014: Toronto vs. Telluride
After the 2013 Telluride Film Festival usurped the world premieres of TIFF selections 12 Years a Slave and Dallas Buyers Club, Toronto responded with a contentious new policy: only world or North American premieres (i.e., no movies that played Telluride) would be screened during the first four days of TIFF. Today, the grudge match remains, with Toronto also facing stiff competition from Venice and New York. Another crucial 2014 moment: Handling’s one-time heir apparent Noah Cowan left TIFF for good.
2015: Beasts of No Nation
The 2015 drama Beasts of No Nation, starring Idris Elba, was Netflix’s first film in the festival.
Netflix’s first original feature film enjoyed a polite reception when it played TIFF. But behind the scenes, the dawn of the streaming era was anything but calm. “I remember catching a lot of hell,” recalls Bailey. “Showing films from a streamer was controversial with many in the film industry. But my approach is, let’s follow the filmmakers, follow the audience.” Today, streamers are TIFF’s bread and butter, with Netflix having seven titles in the 2025 edition, more than the collected likes of Paramount, Warner Bros., Sony Pictures, Universal and Disney.
2016: Moonlight
Alex Hibbert and Mahershala Ali in Moonlight.David Bornfriend/Supplied
After Bailey caught a screening of Barry Jenkins’s groundbreaking drama in the early summer, he immediately e-mailed Jenkins with his pitch: “You showed me people and moments that I never see on screen.” Soon, TIFF audiences, and the rest of the world, would agree.
2017: The Shape of Water
TIFF audiences might remember Guillermo del Toro’s fantasy not as a best picture winner but a tiny act of communal magic. During one pivotal scene, the film’s lead character, a Cold War-era cleaning woman played by Sally Hawkins, finds herself walking around the aisles of a grand movie theatre. It is a beautiful moment of nostalgic grandeur – but one made especially poignant given that del Toro shot the scene inside Toronto’s own Elgin Theatre, the same space where the film premiered.
2018: High Life
Robert Pattinson stars in High Life.Courtesy of Elevation
French filmmaker Claire Denis has seen, and filmed, it all. But the world premiere of her sci-fi drama High Life – which she has accurately described as a film “that speaks only of desire and of fluids” – surprised even her, with more Roy Thomson Hall walkouts than any gala in recent history. “It had Robert Pattinson, Juliette Binoche … I thought, let’s play this in our biggest house,” Bailey recalls. “If you weren’t familiar with Claire’s work, you might be startled. And they were startled right out of the house.”
2019: Changing of the guards
After 24 years at the top, Handling retired after the 2018 festival, with COO Maheux following his lead the next summer. That left the 2019 festival in the hands of Bailey, now the artistic director and “co-head” alongside newly hired executive director Joana Vicente. While 2019 marked a stellar TIFF lineup – Parasite, Marriage Story, Uncut Gems – instability became the key word going forward, including the quick departure of Vicente in 2021.
2020: Pandemic era
The hybrid edition of 2020 featured a mix of digital, outdoor and physically distanced screenings.
With just 50 films – available via digital, outdoor and physically distanced screenings – the festival’s “hybrid” edition stoically carried on in the masked face of COVID-19. The highlight of a dark time: the drive-in premiere of David Byrne’s American Utopia, whose joyful and thoughtful pop art burned down the house, in a good way.
2021: Dune
Still stuck in pandemic-era hybrid mode, TIFF got a desperately needed jolt by securing the “World Exclusive IMAX Special Event” premiere of Dune, held at the Ontario Place Cinesphere (which has been closed for repairs since 2022).
2022: Taylor Swift
Taylor Swift interacts with fans as she arrives to speak at TIFF.MARK BLINCH/Reuters
With the pandemic fading into history, TIFF staged one hell of a comeback year, wrangling everyone from Steven Spielberg (The Fabelmans) to Taylor Swift (whose singalong fans shut down King West for days). While attendance was up from the COVID-dinged 2021, it was down 30 per cent from 2019 (although there were also fewer movies).
2023: Triple threats
Just when TIFF was scaling up to full, prepandemic ambitions, along came three new crises. First, the strikes by Hollywood’s writers and actors meant a severe drain of familiar names on the red carpet, leading to $2.76-million in lost revenue from stakeholders reducing or cancelling their participation. Then, a few weeks before the fest opened, it was revealed that long-time lead sponsor Bell was ending its partnership. And at the same time, two high-level staff departures hinted at discord among the leadership team.
2024: Russians at War
Protesters participate in a demonstration against the screening of Russians at War.EDUARDO LIMA /The Globe and Mail
With Rogers now stepping in for Bell as a sponsor (albeit only for the festival, not year-round activities), TIFF was anticipating a season of bright and sunny headlines. And then Russians at War came along, with protesters (many of whom hadn’t seen the doc) claiming that the production was pro-Putin propaganda. After receiving security threats, the festival postponed the film’s North American premiere, screening it two days after the fest concluded. “I’m sure it was not easy or pleasant for TIFF,” recalls Russian-Canadian director Anastasia Trofimova. “But management was incredibly supportive. I look back at that moment as kind of safe space.”
2025: The Road Between Us
Today, the fest finds itself inundated with headlines not about its semi-centennial (or its rapidly approaching official content market, which secured $23-million in federal support but has yet to reveal a leadership structure for its 2026 launch) but questions over its back-and-forth decision-making regarding the Oct. 7, 2023, doc The Road Between Us. Perhaps 2026 will be protest-free.
