For me it began with Young People Fucking  and ended with a Lou Reed concert film that my friends didn?t realize was a concert film, you?d think the title Lou Reed?s Berlin would have clued them in. It was the last possible screening I could attend.  It was a cold night, fall was in the air and the festival was over.

Let me tell you a little about myself to put my festival experience in perspective.  I spent the first 19 years of my life in Sault Ste. Marie, a nice-looking, isolated northern Ontario city of about 70,000 people.  I always loved movies.  Sadly, there weren?t a lot of options after I?d made my way through the mainstream classics.  The cult section at the large chain video store was my best bet, and the movies it considered ?cult? included A Clockwork Orange, Twelve Monkeys, etc.  Good films, but not exactly Queen Video you know?

So my immersion in festival culture, rubbing shoulders with stars and directors was a beautiful experience for me. It was equally great dealing with first-time writers and producers, who seemed as star-struck as I was.  Meeting everyone at TIFF was a pleasure, especially the programmers who have a tremendous passion for movies and the friendly volunteers who spend eight-hour days in crowded theatre lobbies because of that same passion.  

I was stunned by the sheer volume and quality of the Canadian Film Programmes, and the cornucopia of styles offered.  Everything from My Winnipeg, the weirdest doc you?ll ever see, to straight-forward, but potent morality plays like Amal; and the many stories that needed to be told like A Promise to the Dead, Shake Hands With the Devil, and the head-banging, but heart-wrenching doc Heavy Metal in Baghdad.  Like many others, I was impressed with the commercial appeal of several Canadian features, like the aforementioned Young People, Allan Boyle?s stylish drug-comedy Weirdsville and They Wait, a horror flick that packs a significant punch.  Major new talents emerged, Martin Gero, Richie Mehta and Stéphane Lafleur made it abundantly clear the future of Canadian cinema is brighter than ever.

There was some rushing around, but I had a pretty sweet setup.  I would usually catch two or three movies a day.  The programmers were usually rushing off to the next theatre for an introduction or Q and A, while I sat comfortably in the second row, dipping delicious nachos in processed cheese while scribbling the odd note. 

I always had good luck snagging tickets from programmers, and I should thank Jesse Wente, Marguerite Pigott and Steve Gravestock in particular, who all went out of their way to get tickets for me minutes before screenings despite being among the busiest people in the festival.  I got in trouble from a theatre manager when I stalked Marguerite into the backstage bowels of the Ryerson Theatre to secure my Amal ticket.  But she came to my defense despite my apparent wrongdoing, saying ?He?s our blogger,? so that was nice of her.

The one time I tried to hustle up my own ticket, I was met with extreme skepticism from a box-office staffer only doing his job.  The title ?Volunteer Blog Assistant? just doesn?t carry the weight a Volunteer Blog Assistant might like it to.  He got on the phone with his boss, ?Um, there?s some guy here, and he says he writes a blog or something, and he wants a free ticket?? Thank goodness I found Steve Gravestock at the last minute, or I would have missed a glorious new print of Les Bons Débarras.

My camera broke on day four.  So it was with some trepidation that I attended Shake Hands With the Devil.  I was sure Romeo Dallaire would be there, and I wouldn?t get a picture.  Can a Volunteer Blog Assistant get fired?  At least Dallaire gave a powerful speech I was able to quote.  I asked a woman from Austin, Texas to email me the photo she took.  She agreed, but it hasn?t come yet.  I thought, ?when she gets home,? meant the hotel, apparently it meant Texas!

One fleeting moment of coolness was walking into the ROM amidst Eddie Moretti and his VICE entourage.  I happened to be standing around when they were let in, so I followed.  Then I saw an old friend I?d acted with as a kid.  She thought I was part of the VICE crew and excitedly asked if I was there because I was in the film industry.  I should have told her I was!

I made my first visit to the Royal York Ballroom for the Awards Reception.  I filled several plates with hangover reducing sausage and bacon, lined up behind Rupinder Nagra for freshly made Indian cuisine, and even had a run in with Oscar winner Eugenio Caballero over the last piece of prosciutto.  The acclaimed production designer on Pan?s Labyrinth was kind enough to split it in two.  Between bites I managed to interview Guy Maddin, Colm Feore and festival co-director Noah Cowan to drop a few names.