‘Film on Film’ again!

The British Film Institute just revealed the lineup for the 2025 Film on Film Festival, to be held June 12-15 at the BFI Southbank in London. This second edition is the eagerly awaited follow-up to the inaugural 2023 event, which was one of the more memorable film festivals of recent years.

As we look forward to a return to the joys of analog film in all its variety, here’s my report on the first edition.

It wasn’t so long ago that the phrase “film on film” would have been met with quizzical looks by anyone not talking about a behind-the-scenes “making of” documentary or perhaps a filmmaker biopic. But since the transition to digital capture, distribution, and preservation more than a decade ago, analog film has been nearly completely supplanted by digital projection in commercial cinemas. Analog film has been moved to the margins, and has undergone a series of shifts in the eyes of its various supporters and detractors: to some it is a technological has-been, a museum object, or a relic, while to others, it remains the only real way to watch a film, the carrier of a filmmaker’s true vision, and the key to a film’s survival into the future.

To many in the world of film preservation, making a new polyester film print from the best available elements is still the most effective way to ensure the long-term future of a film while staying as close as possible to the way the film was originally created and experienced. The British Film Institute recently undertook a multiyear project called Heritage 2022 that included an effort to create 100 new 35mm film prints of important films from around the world. To celebrate the conclusion of this project, the BFI presented its first Film on Film Festival during the second week of June, 2023, across multiple venues at its Southbank location along the Thames in London.

Situated on the analog spectrum (and on the festival calendar) between the George Eastman Museum’s Nitrate Picture Show (all 35mm nitrate prints, therefore only films made up to 1951) and Il Cinema Ritrovato in Bologna, Italy (archival prints and new restorations on film and DCP, though it is still possible to fill the week with an almost all-analog selection of screenings there), the Film on Film Festival showcased just about every projectable film format in existence. In addition to the relatively common 35mm, 16mm, Super 8mm, and 70mm, the BFI also presented films on 9.5mm, 35mm 3-D, 35mm nitrate, and 70mm IMAX, which was screened in the BFI IMAX Cinema just down the road from the main Southbank venue.

The festival showcased more than 100 titles on film, and attendees were spoiled for choice. For the dedicated festival-goer, the rush of excitement at the idea of a 1975 IB Technicolor print of JAWS or the chance to see 35mm 3-D shorts projected from the same prints that were used in the Festival of Britain in 1951 was quickly followed by the realization that these opportunities also meant missing other films screening at the same time. Would it be Wong Kar-Wai’s IN THE MOOD FOR LOVE in a new print, or Elizabeth Taylor and Henry Fonda in the long-unavailable ASH WEDNESDAY? Jonathan Demme’s warmhearted tribute to the CB radio, CITIZENS BAND, or Hitchcock’s DIAL M FOR MURDER in 3-D? The lineup presented a host of difficult decisions, and conversations about what one might have missed filled the corridors of BFI Southbank between screenings.

Showcasing a wide range of films from nearly 100 years of filmmaking and from countries around the globe, the festival offered something for everyone. On one end of the spectrum, one must-see screening presented an original 1932 nitrate print of SERVICE FOR LADIES, billed as “the oldest film print ever projected to audiences in the UK.” On the other end was the premiere of Mark Jenkin’s new film A DOG CALLED DISCORD (2023), commissioned by the BFI to celebrate the festival. Prints of every other vintage imaginable were on display, including a gorgeous print of MILDRED PIERCE made in 2023, which was a last-minute stand in for the archive’s original 1945 nitrate print of the film, which couldn’t be screened due to a late malfunction in one projector’s fire prevention system, required for safe nitrate projection. For this viewer, nearly every film felt like a revelation. I finally had the chance to see a print of THE SWIMMER, a key text in the history of Connecticut on film, in a beautiful dye transfer Technicolor print that brought to life lush woodlands, crystalline swimming pools, and Burt Lancaster’s gasp-inducing figure.

The epic scope of Ron Howard’s FAR AND AWAY (1992), shot in 65mm Super Panavision, an imperfect yet still epic film, stunned the small but enthusiastic audience with its rich detail and especially its incredible “cast of thousands” Oklahoma land rush scene. The film was perhaps the most personal for this viewer, completing a circle begun in high school, when my date and I impatiently left the film early in June of 1992. Thanks to the BFI’s Film on Film Festival, I now know how it ends.

Over the course of the week, the atmosphere at the Southbank grew, and a true sense of communal experience, of seeing, enjoying, learning, discussing, and thinking together, began to form. Filmgoers traded reviews and recommendations between screenings, conversations among strangers in the seats began, and there was even a little buzz as filmmaker and BFI board member Edgar Wright, joined by comedian and noted cinephile Patton Oswalt, filed in for the screening of a nitrate print of BLOOD AND SAND.

By the time JAWS rolled around on the closing night, the crowd, energized by three days of screenings and suddenly aware that it was all coming to a close, gave an extra-warm welcome to the introducers, and the sense of anticipation for this rare Technicolor print was at a fever pitch. Seeing a print made before all of the inconsistent shots of the ocean and sky had been flattened out, and before the mono soundtrack had been modified with each subsequent digital restoration, the audience got to collectively enjoy the incredible colors and like-new detail of this unique print. Needless to say, when (spoiler alert) Chief Brody finally vanquished the shark, a spontaneous ovation went up among the crowd. The only mid-film outburst of applause I experienced during this very British festival felt particularly appropriate during this closing night event.

For those of us who live and breathe analog film day in and day out, sometimes we can only gain some perspective with an event like this, where our everyday is shown for what it really is: a rare occurrence for most people today, but a vital art form and an enduring technical marvel which many people have an amazing amount of enthusiasm for and curiosity about. One can’t help but imagine that the experiences people had this weekend—especially those who might never have encountered film, or those who knew film was special but weren’t quite sure why—are going to fuel a lifetime of enthusiasm, interest, and advocacy for this precious, hardy, beautiful medium.

Brian Meacham