The opening night party at TIFF is a special tradition for me. Before falling into the depths of industry world, I’ve spent the past few years going to the opening party with a few close friends who I’ll likely not see again for the ten days that follow. It’s always a fight to the finish to get everyone tickets – and last night was no exception – but we always do.
Held at the Liberty Grand and this year, featuring tanks from the Canadian army in honour of opening night film Passchendaele… it was pretty much the same story: An exhausting mix of run-ins (from close friends to people I went to school with in Toronto to people I worked with at TIFF), and one (four?) too many vodka sodas. Which leads me to another tradition: A horrible hangover the first Friday at TIFF. I went to a brunch this morning and must have looked like some sort of drug addict… Nursing a croissant and trying not to vomit while attempting to form sentences to converse with various people I barely know. Hangovers+industry socializing is a terrible negotiation, and one I have yet to master. The obvious cure is to not drink on opening night, but its hard to break tradition.