This series presents a different essay by a different writer that starts from a simple premise: “The Future of the Movies.” The writer is free to expound on that title in whatever way they choose. It could be streaming, theatrical, AI, tech, representation, or anything else that comes to mind. And we expect the conversation to change as the series continues. We just want to make sure we’re having it. Read previous essays here.
Every year thousands of movies are made, and a smaller percentage are granted distribution. I usually watch around 350 new releases a year (I watch an additional 350-450 repertory titles too). Even with that much film watching I’m always afraid of how many great films I’m missing. To be clear, I don’t mean the buzzy titles certain circles are raving about. I’m talking about the small films that either never make it to America or play a couple festivals never to be heard from again. My worry doesn’t keep me up at night; I don’t wake up in a cold sweat. But I do fear the dwindling films that are covered.
It’s why I believe the future of cinema lies in rekindling the necessity of discovery.
The desire to discover is often bludgeoned by the sheer scale of the problem. Films come in waves, in all lengths and with varying budgets: VOD titles, streaming releases, festival nuggets, international pictures, arthouse and indie films, experimental works and major tentpoles. The issue has only been compounded with the realities of the business. The death of the alt-weekly, for instance, caused the raw number of films covered by critics to plummet. While column inches have shrunk, more movies than ever are being made. Which also means that more than ever before, the great, good and potentially noteworthy films are missed.
Take Errol Morris, the legendary documentary filmmaker behind “The Thin Blue Line” and “The Fog.” While at New York Film Festival 2023, I attended a screening of, at the time, his latest film “The Pigeon Tunnel” at Alice Tully Hall. Morris came on stage to introduce his film, sharing a story about how his career began when he premiered his debut “Gates of Heaven” in 1980. He spoke about being worried that no one would be covering the film and that it would slip into obscurity. Luckily for him, Roger Ebert was in the crowd, saw the movie, and became a major champion of it. Ebert’s boost helped to make Morris’ career. That kind of stuff still happens today for young filmmakers, to a point. But it’s become rare.
Now, to be fair, there are systemic barriers that restrict critics from watching more off-the-beaten path works, especially from relative unknowns, up-and-comers, and underrepresented voices. Budgets at outlets have been slashed and burned. Places that once prided themselves on covering everything now need to wield their resources to take a bigger bite out of tentpole releases. It feels like outlets are shuttering every day. Sometimes it feels like the job is less about discovering and more about surviving. But if we’re not doing the former, then what environment are we surviving for?
Said question is even more complicated for freelance critics. With limited outlets able to approve commissions for smaller films and the financial pressure of stagnant rates, freelancers must often choose to focus on the films that will keep them monetarily afloat. These usually end up being major releases. If they’re working as a freelancer full-time, they also need to churn out writing (there was a point where I was writing 20 reviews/pieces a month). If you’re a freelancer working a day job on top of their day job as a writer, you’re probably putting in 60-70 hours combined a week. There are a plethora of self-published blogs and Substacks, who, in theory, should possess greater latitude to report on smaller, more obscure films. They also navigate the cinematic landscape with difficulty because self-publishers often put their own money into their respective site or pay out of pocket to attend a film festival. The need for a return on investment for them can feel tenfold.
All these factors, including plenty more I haven’t mentioned, make for a stinging, seemingly unbreakable reality: the resources on all fronts are spread too thin.
And yet, I do believe some opportunities still exist for critics to discover and champion.
It starts with maximizing time at film festivals. How many times do we need to break our neck to catch a film at a festival that’ll be in theaters or on streaming in a week or two? Quite frankly, in that scenario, if you’re a freelancer you’re probably already behind the proverbial eight ball for pitching any story. If you’re a blogger, you don’t exactly need to scramble for a title whose streaming is just around the corner. So why fight to see it? Why not look on the schedule, find the film from the country whose cinema you’re unfamiliar with or with a director on their first or second feature instead? Having the film seen so it’s talked about, even if only on social—while not conventionally considered coverage—is half the battle for many filmmakers. Because part of a critic’s job isn’t just to follow the conversation, it’s to start new conversations.
Film festivals, for instance, thrive on generating conversation. Often, lately, they’ve been hurting to garner coverage. To be clear, this isn’t necessarily referring to the Big 5 (Sundance, Toronto International Film Festival, Berlinale, Venice and Cannes)—though I’d also argue those festivals struggle getting eyes on the less glitzy titles—I’m talking about the wider festival calendar.
In 2024, for instance, I had the unquestionable privilege of attending fourteen film festivals. Some were international (Berlin, Karlovy Vary, TIFF, Locarno, Cannes), some were regional (Savannah), some were local (Chicago International Film Festival, Chicago Critics Film Festival, and Black Harvest Film Festival), and a few other major ones too (Sundance, Telluride, True/False, SXSW). All of these festivals had deep, robust lineups. But the reality is that a sizable portion of the films that play there will never be heard from again. While that’s always been a truth of festivals, many of these films aren’t written about to even be forgotten. It’s as though they never existed. Among those films are small, calculated risks that may, down the road, pay dividends if they’re covered.
The biggest hurdle, however, is getting people to read about these films. Critics can publish reviews, but if they’re not being read then the point is moot. In that sense, the necessity of discovery is also incumbent upon the reader too. There have probably never been more films released than now. There have probably never been so many opportunities to find incredible surprises. And isn’t that what movie watching is all about? It’s the thrill of finding a film that either speaks to you or takes you away, one that makes you feel and eventually becomes imprinted on you. More than ever, that can still happen today—we all just have to look.
