We’re just extras on a set
Toronto may be big, but it’s small.
Just how small has become painfully apparent this week with events as disparate as the Toronto International Film Festival and the MFP debacle at city hall. The latter, with its cast of tawdry politicians, grasping bureaucrats and odious lobbyists, revealed a civic culture of complacency and corruption. How ironic that these revelations should have come at a time when Toronto is loudly demanding more power from the province. Reading Justice Denise Bellamy’s report, one wasn’t exactly filled with confidence. And what about institutions such as the Ontario Municipal Board? Maybe the much- despised OMB, which can overturn local development decisions, should be retained despite the criticism. Perhaps it’s just as well that city politicians aren’t in control. But as entertaining as it was to watch the squirming at city hall, most eyes are fixated these days on Toronto’s cinematic shindig, which began life as a celebration of movies and an industry convention. Now it has become an exercise in celebrity worship, something Torontonians are very good at. There’s no shortage of locals willing to stand for hours in the hope of catching a glimpse of some star or other. So what else is new, you ask? Nothing, really. But it is fascinating to watch as Torontonians happily become visitors in their own hometown, extras on a set that happens to be their city. Celebrity culture has become a fact of life, not just in Toronto. But it’s worth pointing out that what Joni Mitchell called the “star-maker machinery” is an overwhelmingly American phenomenon. With all due respect to Bollywood, no other film industry has Tinseltown’s power and ability to create stars.
Canadians should know; culturally we are little more than a 51st state, an outpost. True, a certain amount of cinematic production occurs here, but Canadians generally ignore Canadian films and the distribution system is almost entirely American- owned.
Life in the provinces is good, however, especially when the stars from the entertainment capital of the world come to town and make us feel we matter, if only for a few days once a year.
Still, it was touching to watch a reporter this week on a news program complaining about how Mr. and Mrs. Madonna were led right past the local press corps at some gala or other straight to their American counterparts. It’s never fun to be reminded of how irrelevant one really is. The reporter should have known better, of course; it wasn’t that she was being slighted, but there’s only so much time and the local media must wait until their U. S. counterparts have been satisfied. None of this mattered to the screaming hordes on hand for the aging Material Girl and her obedient husband. Celebrityness is close to godliness. The festival may take place in Canada but that doesn’t make it a Canadian event. Indeed, one of the most curious aspects of Canada is that things can happen here without being the least bit Canadian. Like Toronto, which in the movies has served as many other cities, we could be anywhere. We remain a colony, nominally autonomous but culturally dependent.
“ Why would I want to leave America to go to America Junior?” Homer Simpson asked in an episode during which he and his family travel to Toronto. The program made the front pages up here; we were thrilled to be mentioned, even if it was to be patronized. At least we weren’t ignored. Such is the new colonialism; movies and television have replaced armies and navies. That’s hardly surprising; culture is so much more powerful than military might. As they say in Hollywood, walk softly and carry a big shtick. Christopher Hume can be reached at chume@