The Invisible Art Form
Film editing is often called the “invisible art” because when it’s done well, you don’t notice it at all. You’re simply lost in the story. An editor does far more than just cut out the bad takes; they are the final storytellers, the architects of pace,
rhythm, and emotion. They decide how long to hold a shot to build tension, when to cut to a reaction to create meaning, and how to sequence scenes to shape an entire narrative. A film is often said to be written three times: once by the screenwriter, once by the director on set, and finally, by the editor in the cutting room. At a festival like TIFF, where dozens of films are vying for attention, that final rewrite can be the difference between a breakout hit and a two-hour slog.
Pacing That Creates Power
This year’s festival is a masterclass in how editorial rhythm can make or break a movie. Take a film like Faith, which has captivated audiences with its genre-bending story. For the first hour, viewers were reportedly transfixed by what seemed like an intimate romance, built on immersive, talky scenes. The editor's decision to hold on those moments, letting the relationship feel real, made the film's eventual, shocking turn all the more powerful, leading to audible gasps in the theater. Similarly, Andrey Zvyagintsev's drama Minotaur is being praised for its “remarkably controlled” and “patient pacing.” By masterfully balancing a story of marital jealousy with the looming threat of war, the editing transforms the film into a complex exploration of emotional uncertainty. In both cases, the editor isn't just assembling footage; they are conducting an emotional experience.
When the Rhythm Is Off
Conversely, a handful of TIFF premieres are demonstrating what happens when editing falters. Zack Snyder’s long-awaited drama, The Last Photograph, is being met with sharp criticism for its pacing, with some reviewers calling it “overlong, ponderous and deadly serious to a comical degree.” It’s a classic example of a film that fails to find its rhythm in the edit. Another film, Stuffed, is being dinged for “spinning its wheels narratively for way too long,” leaving critics to feel it needed another twist or turn to justify its length. These critiques aren’t just about a film being “too long”—they’re about a failure in the edit to distill the story down to its most potent form, leaving the audience to feel the bloat.
Editing as a Signature
Beyond simply correcting pace, editing can be a bold signature. The grisly horror debut River is earning buzz not just for its lead performances but for its director's style, specifically his “remarkable POV choices” and use of sound design. Critics note how the film expertly plays with what the audience sees versus what the character sees, creating a unique brand of terror. This isn't just good directing; it's a symbiotic relationship between director and editor, using cuts, perspective, and sound to forge a distinct authorial voice. It elevates editing from a functional craft to a primary creative tool, announcing a filmmaker as a “major genre talent to watch.”
