A Message from Cannes

I announced that when I finished my new film (Marriage A-la-Mode), I would keep everything completely transparent. So I am keeping that promise. Here is the latest dispatch from the trenches: I just received my first rejection. I submitted the film to the Semaine de la Critique section of the Cannes Film Festival, a dedicated spot for directors making their first or second films. I targeted it deliberately because I think we were a perfect match (Me ♡ Cannes). Years ago, I submitted my first feature film there too (and it got the same destiny).

I submitted the film just hours before the deadline, and I actually expected this result. An unknown filmmaker sent his film in the last hours… It would really require a magic spell to be selected (our crew’s “manifest” didn’t work either). So, this actually wasn’t my usual disappointment (but even if it was, I wouldn’t think twice about sharing it). The real issue here, I mean the thing that actually gets me, was seeing how weirdly the festival system still works years later, which I will explain below.

Have You Ever Been Auto-Rejected?

The rejection arrived via an automated message, and I am totally fine with that. I actually prefer rejections cold and direct. Because you can’t expect a love letter when a festival is dealing with hundreds of submissions. The message was exactly what I wanted; short and sharp, but except for one fatal flaw.

It included the name of the festival’s artistic director and declared that they had considered my film with “upmost attention”. And this exact phrasing was sent out to hundreds of us. Let’s think about it: Is there any chance this person (along with other selection committee members) watched my film with the exact same attention granted to the chosen few or many other submissions (1050 films from 106 countries this year, according to public announcement)?

And what does this mean? Were the films watched, or filtered with “upmost” attention? Or is this just an institutional decoration? That’s a total grey area. There is no exact information here, just a cool phrase that gives the impression that the film was considered. If they did not or could not watch all submissions, that would be totally acceptable, but why do they give the impression that they watched 1000 films with the same attention if they did not? Why would a prestigious festival, which I have loved for many years, resort to this while it should be a pioneer of transparency?

Here is the original letter (I just removed the name):

Hello,

…., Artistic Director, and her selection committee have considered your film with the upmost attention and we would like to thank you for submitting MODA EVLİLİK to Semaine de la Critique 2026.

We regret to inform you that the film has not been selected to take part in the final selection.

We wish you all the best for the film’s career and look forward to receiving your next productions,

Best regards

La Semaine de la Critique

How You Do Anything is How You Do Everything

To me, this message is a mirror reflecting the entire festival system. Now I will show you how. Well, I am 36 years old, and I have been making films since I was a 12-year-old kid. 24 years, and my grand prize is a copy-pasted assertion that cannot be proven. And, in fact, it’s grammatically incorrect, too. They should have used “utmost”, not “upmost”. Because “upmost” refers to a physical position like the upmost branch of a tree (but still, I haven’t seen that word anywhere; instead, it’s always “uppermost”). And “utmost” is for intangibles, which is the correct term they should have used. But they didn’t even care enough to check it. Perhaps it wasn’t a typo at all. Perhaps they really were looking down on our films from high up above, like magnificent kings on a throne, and they meant “upmost” quite literally.

And then comes the final. They ended their template by wishing that I would submit my future works to them. But Cannes Semaine de la Critique is an independent section, in other words, a separate entity from the main selection of Cannes Film Festival, and it only accepts first and second feature films. This was my second, which means I literally cannot submit another film to them. I am sure there are many filmmakers submitting their second film, and most likely, they won’t bother making or submitting short films there because it is actually a section for aspiring talents, too. So they don’t even realize they are sending a meaningless wish to hundreds of filmmakers. Why is this so? Because they rely on the same templates they have used for years. They don’t bother changing it, and surely nobody dares to give feedback because they are seen as “gods of cinema”.

You know, I am not just a filmmaker; I am a cinema lover. I probably (I mean certainly) love this art form more, and understand it far better, than the person who wrote that message. And their carelessness is damaging their prestige in my eyes, and I am sure it is having the same effect on many others. Art, just like life, is meant to evolve. But these festivals survive by institutional support under the guise of “tradition” and never bother to renew themselves. Isn’t that the exact opposite of the very flow and change of life?

Am I a Drama Queen?

Am I writing all these because my film wasn’t selected? Actually, yes, depending on the circumstances, I don’t think I would deal with this issue if my film were to go to Cannes (but once I got there, I am sure I would still be Diogenes, looking for flaws or “sophos”).

Anyway, the real tragedy isn’t the rejection here. I am totally okay with that. I have been handling this for years. And I knew the odds were astronomically low. Most films are chosen not through submissions but through personal and professional connections. Programmers know some films even from the screenwriting stage. And film professionals always advise us that we should deal with these processes before or during shooting the film, and have a solid strategy. But this process restricts our freedom and leads us to self-censorship, which basically means shaping our projects to fit institutional expectations (you’ll see how accurate this is in the statistics below). That is exactly why I prefer to avoid it.

But then why am I bringing all this up if things are already so clear? Am I a drama queen? You know, I love art and cinema because I believe they are respectful human activities. So, of course, it was about respect. I don’t want to be consoled like a child with fancy words that are far from reality. And I took it personally. Because in the film world (in their world), everything is about “who” you are.

I have seen it all from “prestigious” festivals and institutions.

I have dealt with festivals that didn’t pay me the award I rightfully won. (Northeastern Europe)

I have dealt with film programmers who ghosted me after promising to respond. (Southern Europe, Central Europe, and Northeast Asia)

I have dealt with coordinators dismissively passing off my messages, forwarding them to assistants or colleagues, like throwing a bone to a dog. They even left internal notes like “reply to this” intact (with their own language!), followed by a cold, corporate template, acting as if there wasn’t a human being on the other end. I respectfully stated where I obtained their contact and sent a private message addressed directly to them with my signature below. But, they sent copy-paste replies without even reading my words, and without giving me any heads-up about the forwarding. And the moment I called out their sheer disrespect, they got defensive and tried to tone-police me. (Northeastern Europe)

I met people, I tried to build a personal connection, and they immediately assumed I was just begging for a cunning privilege or submission waiver. But I always made my submission officially by simply filling out a form, and I always allocated the necessary budget and never asked for waivers unless offered. (Southern Europe)

I have even been deliberately ignored simply because I refuse to participate in their “political agendas”. I was accused of being apolitical, whereas in fact I am more political than all of that, from my way of producing films to my uncompromising commitment to my style and to the justice I foster for the people I work with, without any categorical exclusion. But I was dismissed because I didn’t engage with “current political trends”. (Northwestern Europe, Northeastern Europe, Central Europe, North America, and, of course, Turkey)

When I faced a problem and reached out for help, they completely ignored me. (Northwestern Europe)

I trusted them, but they leaked my film to certain groups before its premiere. (Turkey)

So their attitude completely depends on who you are. They hide behind a mask of “professionalism” but they decide who to respect, who to reply to, and who to ignore entirely based on personal biases and power (industry) dynamics.

“Fear not, Cesario, Take Thy Fortunes Up.”

Of course, from the outside, they all seem systematic errors, but to me, everything is absolutely personal in this world. And when they attach their names to a message sent directly to my inbox, it makes it extra personal. BECAUSE: they would never dare show that same carelessness to people whose names and institutional power they fear. So they don’t fear me, okay, then I don’t fear them either.

I am writing all these at a time when I actually need validation the most. I have just finished a new film that needs to be released, but I realized a long time ago that I can’t keep making films under this crippling need for approval. I take risks, and I will collaborate with those who are willing to do the same. Maybe I’ll be accepted into another festival. It doesn’t matter at all; it doesn’t change me. Remember: tragic heroes meet their fate mostly because of their own choices. I would rather be a tragic hero than just another opportunist filmmaker.

Unfortunately, art and institutions do not mix well. Even if you try to communicate with individuals, the institutions themselves slam you against a wall. I admire people who navigate these environments and still keep their integrity. Their mission, acting as a bridge, is important. But, me? Come on, I make films. Why am I expected to be standard and smooth out my edges just to be there? Of course, I would love to attend the festivals, but only as myself. While festivals constantly promote “diversity” why isn’t there room for someone like me within that spectrum (especially when I make good films)?

And I am not some hermit waiting to be discovered or some “Middle Eastern” artist writing screenplays on a camel, as many imagine. They are well aware of me and my films; I even know some of them personally. The problem is that I have no institutional power. I am easily replaceable. Should I work for a comfortable institutional position? But doing so would mean saying goodbye to cinema and art, the very things I love most. Many festival workers are actually just disillusioned filmmakers who quit. And it’s safer for them not to collaborate with someone as outspoken as me. They must remain silent to pay the bills. You know, we live in a modern world full of good intentions, but “fear” is still the primary motivator of many things, as it was in prehistoric times. It’s sad, but that’s just the way it is.

And this is not just about me. I think hundreds of other filmmakers do not deserve this disrespect (and lack of transparency) either. But of course, I can’t dictate how they handle these issues. In my case: If they drop a bomb on me, I’ll always respond with nuclear.

Data Science!

Probably they didn’t even watch my film, at least with “utmost attention”. They somehow filtered it, perhaps through some interns. Even if they did watch it, it would be a very radical decision for them to step outside their established frameworks and select my film (completely self-funded, with no “industry'” collaboration, no film fund, no European co-production, and featuring highly experimental elements). And let me tell you a secret: I can see the real-time statistics on the platform (Vimeo) where I uploaded my film. Of course, the reviewers are aware of this, too, and sometimes, they pretend to watch the submissions simply by letting them run in an empty playlist. But how do I guess if they have actually watched them?

Through years of experience in analyzing the data, it’s easy to tell when someone isn’t paying attention to films. For instance, you should always be suspicious of a sharp 100% viewing rate. Nobody watches a film until the very last second of the credits. Knowing this, I intentionally format the scrolling text so that they can finish reading the credits well before the film actually ends. The video keeps playing until all the text fully disappears, but I know most reviewers will definitely skip the rest because they have already read it. So, a 100% viewing rate just after you submitted the film is probably a fake viewing operation by an “intern”. They might know how to manipulate the system, but as the saying goes: two can play at that game. Can I prove this? No. But they don’t prove the opposite either, and they are the ones who created this gray area in the first place.

And you know what? Some reviewers fast-forward the films. Knowing this, I removed the fast-forward feature from the system, which I guess is a bit of a shock for them, or at least a reason not to watch the film. Back in my film school years, at an industry meeting in the LUCA School of Art in Belgium, a producer did the same thing while I was showing my short film to him. He reached for my laptop and tried to fast-forward it. I slammed it shut and crushed his hand like toast (a great sandwich with a seasoned Flemish producer). This reminded me of Bresson’s quote (that producer would probably never get): “A film is made not for a stroll of the eyes, but for complete immersion and absorption.” (I think I should add this to every submission I make).

I know I am overly detail-oriented here, and I am always criticized for it, but I never let things go, and I never will. If humanity has ever achieved anything, it wasn’t built by the people who just “let it go” but by the relentless lunatics. I love my work, and I am obsessed with every single detail. I believe this exact same trait is a core element in filmmaking, too. So please, before criticizing me, consider that the very things you criticize about people could actually be their greatest qualities.

It Always Comes Down to Economics

The truth is: Anyone who has spent a little time in the film industry knows that having been selected just by official submission is quite impossible. But festivals act the opposite, I mean, as if it is possible. Because they want me, along with other filmmakers, to pay them a submission fee for the system to continue.

I am also a homoeconomicus. Yes, I care about money too. The submission fee I paid is the equivalent of the monthly rent where I live in Turkey. And if I am handing over my money, I expect at least transparency and honesty. I have poured thousands of dollars into festival black holes over the years, and I don’t know what exactly is happening behind closed doors. Even so, I have never requested privilege from festivals in this regard. If I have the budget, I have never asked for a fee waiver (unless the programmers offered it themselves). I did support them financially when I could. But, despite the capabilities of today’s technology, they completely neglect to invest that money into building a more transparent system.

Okay, no one forced me to pay a submission fee; as an adult, I should consider all consequences. But considering myself naive in the past and the young filmmakers of today who invested there, I think this system evolved something I can call “hope mongering”: Festivals don’t seem directly guilty, but they take great advantage of this ignorance of filmmakers. And I, Mirac Atabey, still holding onto a small hope in this, am probably the biggest fool of them all.

Am I Fair Enough?

I must be fair, so I did something to avoid my own prejudices. I found the artistic director’s email (publicly shared) and asked her a straight question: “Did you really consider my film with your upmost (utmost) attention?” Since her name was written directly in the email, I thought I had the right to ask her about this, as she must be held responsible for this message. I just asked for a simple confirmation. And I told her my festival strategy will be decided based on her answer.

Did I get a reply? No. But I think she received my message; she even checked me (since there was some unusual visitor activity on my blog, data science!). Actually, her silence means a lot, but I don’t even want to be right on this issue, because I still want to go to Cannes and show my film there. I am confident that I, along with my crew, highly deserve it. On the other hand, of course, expressing my feelings, thoughts, and experiences always comes first (that’s one of the reasons I make films). So I won’t keep my mouth shut. Surely people (even among my friends) will feel sorry for me and think I am a lost cause since awards, red carpets, and festivals are inevitably seen as measures of success, which is relatively true. But someone had to say these things, right?

Who knows, perhaps I will provoke them a little, and perhaps they will open their doors a bit in the name of transparency. Or perhaps (most likely) I will be canceled or blacklisted for saying these things. But, still, I respectfully send my regards to them without any hard feelings. And I trust the power of time that reveals what is valuable. If I don’t die or get seriously sick, people (esteemed ones) will know (and appreciate) my films anyway. I believe in this: If you do something good and long enough, your overall results will eventually converge to the expected average, even if you don’t hit the bullseye. And nature can always produce the unconventional when it needs to, and then things just keep going.

And, sure, if I am informed on the matter and convinced, I am ready to retract my statement and change my position, but of course, that won’t be an apology because I have not disrespected anyone. And I would love for them to improve themselves; that’s why I wrote this list in the past: Fair Laurels for Film Festivals

Here is my original reply, maintaining their sharpness (I just removed the name):

Dear ….,

Your name is on the mail I received (and shared below), which is why I am addressing my reply directly to you. First of all, the expression used in your standard email is incorrect; it should be “utmost,” not “upmost.”

But that is not the main issue. Since your name is attached to this decision, please confirm that this film, which I produced and directed, was indeed evaluated with your utmost attention. We practically bled to finish the film at the last minute, and the submission fee I paid is literally equivalent to a month’s rent where I live.

Based on your answer, I will determine our future festival strategy and establish a strict principle regarding whether or not to pay festival fees anymore. Furthermore, your reply (or silence) might go down in cinema history; you never know who will become what in the future.

Mirac Atabey

Alternatives to Me

Okay, maybe we, those who got this rejection message and paid our rent money to them, are just the necessary sacrifices for the existence of the great art in that selection. After all, isn’t life like that? While some are surviving, others are losing. Then let’s take a look at the selected films in the section where I submitted my film. What are the alternatives to my work, selected by La Semaine de la Critique?

First of all, I respect the selected filmmakers, and I didn’t watch the films, so I won’t comment on them. But I will read the statistical data, which is publicly available, of these films (I am giving them free advertising here, so I think they should be grateful).

Let’s start with the presentation message on the festival’s website; this is how the festival sees the films it has selected:

For the past 65 years, La Semaine de la Critique has been supporting the first steps of short – and feature – film directors from across the world with unwavering passion; paying close attention as artists venture off the beaten path to reinvent storytelling and experiment with new cinematic language. Each new generation contributes to the history of cinema. It is captivating to see it unfold – an endless source of joy for La Semaine de la Critique to be carried away by these filmmakers’ imagination. 

And here are statistical data and my comments (of course, I don’t claim to be objective, but I claim that I am reasonable and rational):

• 100% Trauma and Crisis Theme: All 7 films center on extreme crises as their main dramatic conflict. These are: War and Blockade (The Station, Dua), Terminal illness/Virus (Viva, Seis Meses…), Suicide and Sexual Abuse (A Girl Unknown), Poverty and Marginalization (Tin Castle), Despair and Explosive Anger (La Gradiva). I read it as zero diversity in theme.
• 100% European Production: 6 out of the 7 films in the selection are co-produced with European countries or rely heavily on the main budget contributions of European production companies. One film is a direct European (Spanish) production. I read it as European hegemony.
• 71% “Non-Male” Representation: 5 “non-male” directors and 2 “non-female” directors. I use this terminology to present the data as objectively as possible, though I will leave it to you to guess the specific gender identities these directors might have. Unfortunately, nowadays, films that don’t engage with a specific prioritized/favoured identity and socio-political agenda aren’t even considered cinema anymore. To me, they should adopt more balanced and neutral approaches that prioritize talent and perseverance. Radical steps will always sharpen our edges and create other marginalized groups in the future. See how I am sharpening on the issue (the action-reaction principle). I believe there is no talent shortage in the world, no matter a filmmaker’s background. However, since filmmakers aren’t incentivized to just make good films, they end up distracted by all these secondary politics. As a result, filmmakers who only care about the art form itself are quickly going extinct. In the festivals, cinema is used as a communication tool, not an art form anymore. But we shouldn’t forget that when we discuss the history of cinema, the people we revere are the masters who are remembered precisely because they prioritized the art of cinema: the form, the style, and the language. The ideal scenario, of course, would be for everyone to coexist: those who appreciate art alongside those focused on outside issues or those who mix them. (Again, I don’t address the filmmakers in the selection here; I address the gatekeepers and their mentality. But if filmmakers claim, “Life is hard, filmmaking is hard, and I am of a specific gender, so support me just because of it” then they are guilty too.)
• 57% Orientalist Poverty (Misery) Narrative: The 4 films coming from the “European Periphery,” or “Global South” or the “Third World”, whatever you choose to call them (Yemen, Kosovo, Mexico, China) present the bleeding wounds of their respective geographies, such as war, ethnic violence, the AIDS crisis, and domestic abuse. All of them fit the trend that Western audiences want to watch the misery of the outside world. I read it as “100% Miserabilist Orientalism” for the whole selection, as all Non-Western films have it without exception.
• 57% Coming-of-Age Theme: 4 out of the 7 films are direct coming-of-age stories that convey events from the innocent or fragile perspectives of children/teenagers. A Girl Unknown (a young girl’s search for identity), Dua (a 13-year-old Kosovar girl’s transition into adolescence), Seis meses… (11-year-old Bruno’s first love), and La Gradiva (high school teens). All fit this prevalent subject trend within the fund-and-festival-oriented cinema industry. I read it as filtering subjects rather than comprehensive curation.
• 43% Eurimages Funds (3 out of 7 films): The Yemeni film (The Station), the Kosovar film (Dua), and the French film (La Gradiva) have all received support from the Council of Europe’s Eurimages Fund, which is a significant source of funds and a gatekeeping mechanism of the European Film Industry. I read it as a lack of the independence that films claim to have (ofc, I see no problem with funding a film; but the problem is promoting a film with an “independent” label while it’s funded through conventional mechanisms).

So what do you think?

Action!

You know the type. They face a little injustice or discrimination, and suddenly they make committees, start campaigns, and fight for their rights while leaving the actual work they do. I don’t suffer from that affliction. I have zero interest in playing the rebel, being the dissenter, or trying to “influence” people. I make films. That is what I do, and that is what I will continue to do. I draw my strength directly from the films I make, not from the noise. And if you are here reading this, you already know that I am a good filmmaker, or at least one of the good ones (I won’t stop praising myself till the cultural elites of our time give me the credit I deserve).

Or if you don’t even agree with that, you can confirm that I am a man of action (it’s an expression, not a gender identity, and no, I won’t neutralize it). Here I am just taking my new act right before your eyes:

Festivals are not transparent in this matter, so, from this day forward, I have decided not to pay any submission fees to any festivals, and I have officially announced it on my company’s website. I would much rather spend my money on my own filmmaking than wonder, “Was my money just wasted?”. Of course, under the right conditions, I am always ready to collaborate with all kinds of industry professionals. But it requires mutual agreement and, above all, mutual respect.

Here is my statement published on my company’s website:

From May 1, 2026, onwards, Micmuss Film Entertainment will no longer pay submission fees to any festival, no matter how prestigious or advantageous it may be. As transparency regarding film consideration is not provided in return for the high fees, in the current landscape, the process does not meet the principles of fair trade and has turned into an unaccountable practice. On the contrary, we reserve the right to request a fee from festivals to consider our films when we deem it appropriate. Esteemed festivals or any industry professionals are welcome to request free access to view our films, provided they agree to our terms.

Done, next one, yallah…