The Locarno Festival’s Bold Bet on Cinema’s Future
Every year, the Locarno Film Festival feels like a whisper from the future of cinema. Nestled in the Swiss Alps, it’s a place where the experimental meets the accessible, where emerging voices collide with established masters. This year’s Pardi di Domani and Open Doors Screenings lineups are no exception—but what makes them particularly fascinating is how they reflect not just the state of cinema, but the state of our world.
A Festival That Dares to Ask: What’s Next?
Locarno’s Pardi di Domani section, dubbed the “Leopards of Tomorrow,” is more than a showcase; it’s a manifesto. Personally, I think it’s one of the few platforms that truly understands the dual purpose of film festivals: to celebrate the present and to gamble on the future. This year’s selection, with 40 world premieres across 29 countries, feels like a deliberate act of defiance against the homogenization of global cinema.
What many people don’t realize is that festivals like Locarno are often where the next wave of cinematic innovation begins. Take Ben Rivers’ The Wind, One Brilliant Day or Caroline Poggi and Jonathan Vinel’s The Blessing—these aren’t just films; they’re experiments in form and narrative. In my opinion, this is where cinema’s reinvention happens, not in the blockbuster factories of Hollywood.
The Open Doors Program: A Lifeline for Underrepresented Voices
If Pardi di Domani is about the future, Open Doors is about the forgotten. This year’s focus on African cinema is both timely and necessary. Films like La kora de mon père by Aymar Esse and The Prophet by Ique Langa aren’t just stories from the continent; they’re stories about the continent, told by its own voices.
What this really suggests is that cinema, at its best, is a tool for reclaiming narratives. For too long, African stories have been filtered through Western lenses. Open Doors is a corrective, a reminder that diversity in cinema isn’t just about representation—it’s about perspective. If you take a step back and think about it, this isn’t just a festival program; it’s a political statement.
The Tension Between Conflict and Humanity
Eddie Bertozzi, head of the Pardi di Domani selection committee, describes this year’s lineup as a “war of the worlds”—a phrase that immediately stands out. It’s not just about the public conflicts shattering our present (though there’s plenty of that); it’s about the private battles that define our humanity. Films like Private Property by Deepak Rauniyar and Elegy for the Forgotten, On an Endless War by Bani Khoshnoudi seem to grapple with this duality.
A detail that I find especially interesting is how these films don’t shy away from complexity. They don’t offer easy answers, and that’s the point. Cinema, at its core, is a medium that thrives on ambiguity. In a world increasingly polarized, these films remind us that the human experience is anything but binary.
Why This Matters Beyond the Screen
Locarno isn’t just a festival; it’s a mirror. It reflects the anxieties, hopes, and contradictions of our time. From the experimental shorts in Pardi di Domani to the politically charged features in Open Doors, this year’s lineup feels like a call to action.
One thing that immediately stands out is how these films challenge us to think differently. They don’t just entertain; they provoke. In a media landscape dominated by algorithms and safe bets, Locarno is a reminder that art should be risky.
Looking Ahead: What Locarno Tells Us About Cinema’s Future
If there’s one takeaway from this year’s lineup, it’s that cinema is far from dead. It’s evolving, mutating, and adapting to the chaos of the 21st century. Personally, I think the future of film lies in festivals like Locarno—places that prioritize innovation over profit, and voices over volume.
What this really suggests is that the next great cinematic movement might not come from the usual suspects. It might come from a Tanzanian filmmaker like Daniel Samwel (Nadupa), or a Mozambican director like Ique Langa (The Prophet). And that, in my opinion, is something worth celebrating.
So, as the 79th edition of Locarno unfolds, I’ll be watching not just for the films, but for the conversations they spark. Because in the end, that’s what cinema is all about: not just telling stories, but starting dialogues. And in a world as fractured as ours, that might be the most revolutionary act of all.
