Almost a regular at this festival for some years, I have always enjoyed Docfest thoroughly. I am a bit of a documentary nut, and it always pleases me that such an event is sat on my doorstep on an annual basis. However, I usually miss more than I catch - and always regret it - so this year, armed with my first delegate press pass, I intend to spank this festival hard. (Well, as hard as I could with the writing and DJing commitments to simultaneously fill).
When almost all your festival experiences are based on music ones, a film festival is something all together different. It’s taking place everywhere you look: in the bar, in the foyer, outside whilst people smoke cigarettes, even in the bathroom - yes, networking. A strange and alien concept to me that I find a tad repugnant, truth be told. People propped up bars with their pristine white passes and sipped red wine, engulfed a world of sycophancy, and I found this very hard to deal with. I found myself, increasingly often, in the dark corners of the bar where nobody could get me. I didn’t like what was going on and had no intention of partaking, however my view on this soon changed...
I was being naturally cynical and applying my own personal background, which - while it involves five years of academic study in film, and various film external to that - is primarily in music, and I was looking at this through those eyes. I was here as a fan of documentaries, lucky enough to get a press pass to write about them; I had nothing to sell, nothing to promote, and nothing to gain other than increasing my knowledge, love and understanding of a wonderful art form. Naturally, I felt uncomfortable at first, but I soon realised it has to be done. You can make a record on your own in your bedroom now - you don’t need contacts, phone numbers, or even people for that matter, let alone funding. Film on the other hand exists only through all of these things, and funding is the lifeblood to the industry. Documentary makers are by nature dedicated - some spending years and years on their project, some even a lifetime - so if they have spend a few days shaking hands and doing small talk in order to get that work funded, distributed or aired, that is completely understandable’; a necessity even.
The city had a genuine buzz about it, and to see hundreds of people nipping between screens and running in the streets to get to shows (on a cold rainy Friday night) was wonderful. The vast array of events, films, Q&As, and talks rendered it literally impossible to see and do everything you wanted. I avoided workshops and talks and stuck exclusively to films and their Q&As. Sitting next to Louis Theroux in a cinema, and then personally speaking to Joan Rivers whilst sat there, was as an odd way to spend a Friday night, but a brilliant one, capturing the wonderful essence of the festival.
This is the second largest documentary festival in the world, attracting people from all over the world; there is a vibrancy and cultural diversity to the festival that even makes simply being in the bar an enticing experience - let alone being in one place with so many artistic and creative minds. At a music festival there is a clear distinction between artists and attendees, whereas no such line exists here - everybody co-exists and there is a genuine sense of community as a result.
There were some genuinely wonderful films shown this year - too many to name and cover them all - but you can read reviews of six of them in our very own film and music doc sections. I still missed too much for my liking, but such is the nature of all festivals. This event is a real treat to encounter, particularly in the north of England: I’ve never spent a more enjoyable ten hours straight than being sat on my bum watching films at Docfest.