I’ve been going to film festivals since I was 16, and if there’s one thing that binds them, it’s the sight of the back of a balding man’s head in a theater. Maybe it’s because they’re too costly, or because there’s no easy route for young people to get tickets or passes, but the film festival remains a pipe dream visit for young cinephiles who can’t quite crack it. Even the schemes presented by the bigger ones (looking at you, C*nnes) can feel less like opportunities and more like compromises.
Turns out, Karlovy Vary has it figured out—by turning movie-watching into a kind of summer camp. Held at a quaint spa town about 90 minutes from Prague, I’d heard about it from friends who’d been: stories of the “queue,” where die-hard movie lovers treat the festival like their own Era’s Tour, waiting (and sometimes sleeping) in line for up to seven hours to score tickets for films they’re hyped about. Many—including the hungry young film fans the festival employs—bring tents and camp about 2 kilometers from the main hub. When you love cinema this much, and a great festival is right there, you find a way to make it work.
On the green outside the Hotel Thermal, I meet a group of young people who went to school together but have since splintered off into different art colleges. They convene every year at Karlovy Vary to watch movies. I ask how it’s been so far. “Crowded,” Zuza replies. They’re staying at the campsite. “We woke up at 5:15 a.m., and so many people slept in line overnight, which was kind of disappointing. It’s not really fair to sleep in the line!” They came out of a late screening last night and the line had already begun.
Still, Zuza and her friends are enjoying catching up and watching movies. This year, the festival honored Hollywood megastars who landed in town with full fanfare. Michael Douglas presented a remastered One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, a screening so busy that the standby line closed an hour before the film began because it had already grown too long. Dakota Johnson brought Materialists, her matchmaking romcom with Pedro Pascal, while Stellan Skarsgård was due to show up for the Czech premiere of Sentimental Value (Joachim Trier summer in full swing, as Charli promised.) I ask if there’s anyone they’d love to see at the festival. “I’m sure we’re happy to see anyone,” Johana says.
Are they excited about any of the buzzy titles—the Palme d’Or winner? The big A24 films? Sure, but they’ve got their own picks. “I really liked the Kazakhstani horror movie we saw yesterday, Cadet,” Bětka says. “And the Prague shorts”—a collection of films made by Czech students. Kačka says: “We are happy for everything.”
Right before their next movie, I grab a group of four stylish kids. One, Anishka, is a local—her parents escape to the mountains during the festival, but she stays for the films. Vara grew up here. “I moved to a different city, and I find myself coming back. Now that I moved, I’m starting to attend this festival, which is kind of funny.” Time is of the essence, they say. What are they hoping to see? “The Imagina,” Anilu says—a program of silent short films.
I’m struck by how unfazed these kids are by what others would consider “hot tickets.” I not-so-fondly recall the bloodbath of trying to see Solo, an aggressively mid Star Wars spin-off, at Cannes a few years ago—set to come out in theaters just two weeks later. Here, every screen is full, and everyone’s hungry for something. But while the older cinephiles clamor for a handshake with Michael Douglas, these kids are vibing on the grass, waiting for something more obscure.
On my last night, just before midnight, I run into a group of four kids, some wearing staff lanyards. They’re called Kate, Amalia, Barbara, and Jana. Amalia is the outlier—she’s a Czech model now living in Portugal.
“I [came here] completely blind,” Barbara says. “My mom came once , so I knew it was a thing, and I got invited. So I was like, ‘Why not? Fun experience.’ I really like the environment here.”
“I’m here basically because I like movies and I like to party,” Jana says. “So this is the best combination.” Most of them have been working hard for the first few days and haven’t seen much. Jana mentions Broken Voices: “It was really amazing, but the ending was kind of sad.” They’re living the dream: “getting paid and watching movies,” he says. And just like that, they’re off—back to the campsite, ready for a full day tomorrow.
At one point during the festival, I was in my hotel elevator wearing jorts and a baggy Bode T-shirt, looking like one of the Rugrats, when the doors opened. In walked Michael Douglas (with a security guard, of course), but otherwise without fanfare, only a slight electric shift in the air. As he stepped out in his tux, I thought about how wild it is to see a Hollywood superstar in a small Czech town, and how easy it is to bend to that energy. But at the same time, there’s still a bunch of random students watching Kazakhstani horror and shorts that their friends made. Cinema can be both: the pomp and the undiscovered.
