Streaming ate the theatrical window, but it never touched the gatekeeping. Cannes, Venice and Berlin still decide what cinema we'll be watching a year from now — including the films that end up on a platform.
The sceptic's favourite line goes like this: why bother with Cannes if the film turns up on a platform six months later anyway? The logic looks airtight — access to cinema has become infinite, there's no scarcity left. But it confuses two very different things: access and selection.
A platform gives you access. It shows you everything, and so it means nothing. The algorithm doesn't answer the one question that actually matters to a viewer — which of these ten thousand titles is worth two hours of your life. A festival answers it. The programmer is a rare figure in this industry: someone who deliberately says "no" to ninety-nine percent and takes responsibility for the choice.
A festival isn't a premiere, it's a certificate
When a film makes the main competition at Cannes, more than a screening happens. A status is conferred. That status then works for years: on the poster, in the pitch to distributors, in the headlines, in the viewer's memory. "Cannes winner" and "released on a platform" are two different ways for a film to exist in the culture, and the first is still the stronger one.
A platform asks what you'll watch tonight. A festival asks what we'll remember in twenty years. They're different questions, and we need both.
The paradox is that the streamers understand this perfectly. Netflix and Apple don't carry their films to Venice for fun — they need precisely the festival legitimacy the algorithm can't manufacture. A platform would happily buy status outright, but status isn't for sale. It can only be earned through selection.
What this means for the viewer
The festival calendar is, in effect, a free edit of world cinema, performed on your behalf by people who watch a thousand films a year. Following the competitions at Cannes, Venice and Berlin is the cheapest way to go a decade without missing anything that matters. Not because festivals are always right — but because they, at least, choose.