The Land of Maple Leaves

The September breeze still carried the oppressive heat and humidity of summer, yet it was tinged with a hint of early autumn's coolness, mingled with the refreshing moisture from Lake Ontario. The clear blue sky seemed to echo this wave, with golden sunlight flowing gently, filling the air with a bright and pleasant atmosphere that made one want to step outside, even if just for a walk in the city square.

Compared to the hustle of New York and the sunshine of Los Angeles, Toronto had a relaxed and free-spirited vibe. Elderly people walked their dogs leisurely on the streets, always with a friendly smile; children were surrounded by pigeons in the square, scrambling for a piece of bread; and the business people, in their suits with briefcases, hurried to the curb before mounting their bicycles and riding off...

Today, Toronto was especially bustling, with crowds filling the view, shoulder to shoulder in every corner, as if all of North America's residents had descended upon the city overnight. Maybe that wasn't literally true, but it wasn't far off, as the Toronto International Film Festival officially kicked off today.

Though the Venice Film Festival was still in full swing, Toronto's geographical advantage easily garnered favor from its neighbor, with nearly all films aiming for awards season making a stop here.

The Toronto Film Festival was quite young, having started in 1976, and it had only truly risen to prominence in the last two or three years, beginning with "Slumdog Millionaire." Gradually, it was replacing Venice as the North American awards season's early indicator.

Canadians are famously polite, sometimes excessively so, always saying "sorry" and "thank you" regardless of the situation. Americans love to joke about this, especially comparing the frenzy of Black Friday shopping in the U.S., where malls turn into battlefields, with Canada's orderly lines and friendly greetings from staff as shoppers enter stores in a civilized manner, even while saying "sorry" during a scuffle.

This tradition of politeness extended to the Toronto Film Festival, where even the worst films received standing ovations. Compared to the highbrow, aloof, and often unkind audiences of the European big three festivals, Toronto was a paradise, with even the critics being particularly gentle. Most films screened here garnered "positive reviews," surrounded by praise.

Thus, real professionals knew that these evaluations were of limited reference value, and they waited for the films to open in the U.S. to see the real verdict.

Still, such a friendly environment was perfect for promotional strategies.

Moreover, unlike the globally prestigious European big three festivals, Toronto did not focus on awards but was known for its large number of screenings, mainly serving the market. It didn't need to struggle between art and commerce; its ultimate goal was simple: to sell films.

This made Toronto a hub for independent film distributors, attracting more and more indie films seeking opportunities.

This year's Toronto Film Festival was no exception, with Darren Aronofsky and Natalie Portman's "Black Swan," Mike Leigh's "Another Year," Tom Hooper and Colin Firth's "The King's Speech," Nicole Kidman's "Rabbit Hole," and Ben Affleck's "The Town," among others, all set to dazzle over the next eleven days.

In fact, many films had just come from Venice, such as "Norwegian Wood," "Barney's Version," "The Puppet," and "Road to Nowhere." This indicated the high average quality of the 51 films in this year's lineup.

This convergence attracted all of North America's journalists, eager for firsthand information to preview the awards season. No one wanted to miss such a grand event.

After settling his luggage at the hotel, Renly left and headed towards the main venue.

Despite living two lives, he had never even attended a concert, let alone a film festival or music festival of this scale. Renly's steps grew lighter. Andy hadn't come along yet, as he had other actors and work to manage, planning to join Renly for the premiere of "Buried." Until then, Renly had free time to fully enjoy the festival. He began pondering which films to watch today and tomorrow.

But how would he know which films were showing today? Would he have to check the official website? Lacking experience, Renly quickly learned the process—festival publications. Each film festival had its own, and each year's was unique, containing schedules, film feedback, and brief interviews with the cast and crew.

Flipping through the festival guide, Renly quickly scanned the list of 51 entries this year. He had seen more than half, and the other half he hadn't even heard of. Most were Canadian films, supporting the local industry, like this year's opening film.

Canadian director Michael McGowan teamed up with local musicians to produce "Hockey Musical," about Canada's beloved sport. It was infused with Canadian elements through and through.

Though he had seen most of the films, there were several Renly wanted to watch again, especially on the big screen, like Denis Villeneuve's "Incendies."

Renly still remembered the shock and complexity he felt watching that film, and Villeneuve had since made other remarkable films like "Prisoners," "Sicario," and "Arrival." He excelled at using cinematography to build and cultivate emotions, magnifying the subtleties of actors' performances.

Such films were a treat to watch on the big screen.

Yesterday was the festival's opening ceremony, with only "Hockey Musical" screened. Today, the full lineup began. Renly browsed the afternoon schedule, planning to see the French animated film "The Illusionist," which had minimal dialogue but was as beautiful as a painting. If time allowed, he'd also check out "Beautiful Mistakes."

As he pondered, Renly turned to buy tickets, only to nearly bump into someone directly behind him. Startled, he almost fell forward but managed to stop himself, reaching out to prevent a collision. The person he nearly fell into stumbled forward awkwardly before turning around, her dark brown hair swirling. Her eyes, clear and bright, flashed with anger. "What's wrong with you?" she demanded.

Renly frowned slightly. This was clearly a mutual mistake, but she was accusing him first. However, knowing such disputes were ambiguous, Renly chose courtesy and offered a sincere smile. "Sorry, my fault."

His friendly and earnest apology seemed to disarm her, and she hesitated before replying, "Sorry, I was distracted. I should have been watching where I was going." She rubbed her temple, her dark brown hair pinned under a black beret, with loose strands covering much of her face, showing just a firm jawline.

"Luckily, no one made a scene," Renly joked lightly to ease the tension. She didn't smile, making things awkward, but Renly didn't mind. It was a brief encounter. He nodded and was about to leave when she suddenly ducked behind him, pulling his sleeve to stop him.

Confused, Renly looked around but saw nothing unusual. Was she hiding from someone? Was this a film scene? Wasn't this the Toronto Film Festival? What detail had he missed?

"Paparazzi!" Her voice, tense, came from behind. "Please cover for me."

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200 powerstones - 1 bonus chapter