By Joseph Marshall
The Toronto International Film Festival just tried to turn Hamas into a Hollywood rights department. Read that again. A world-class film festival actually flirted with the idea that the butchers who live-streamed their own rampage on October 7 get a veto over whether the rest of us are allowed to see the evidence.
TIFF yanked a documentary about a dare-in-your-face rescue during the massacre because, wait for it, the filmmakers supposedly didn’t have “legal clearance” for Hamas’s terror-cam clips. That’s not risk management. That’s moral vertigo. It’s like asking the arsonist if you can show the house fire. And yes, multiple outlets reported TIFF’s position as essentially requiring permission for Hamas-shot footage because that’s how TIFF framed its “clearance” issue.
The film in question follows retired Israeli Maj. Gen. Noam Tibon racing into hell to save his family and neighbors—an extraordinary, documented rescue that’s already been profiled on “60 Minutes.” TIFF first invited the movie, then slammed the brakes, citing legal exposure over the clips the killers themselves broadcast to the world. That’s not art curation; that’s bureaucrats playing bouncer at the truth.
TIFF’s official spin? Boilerplate about “legal clearance of all footage” and the need to “manage” the risk of “significant disruption.” Translation: we can’t show the film because the perpetrators might complain and protesters might shout. When you reduce atrocity footage to a paperwork problem, you’ve outsourced your conscience to a fine-print clause.
And let’s cut the coyness: Hamas is a listed terrorist entity in Canada. The moment you act like their GoPro gore is a licensable asset, you’re not neutral—you’re laundering the killers’ control over the narrative. You don’t “respect IP” for a death cult; you preserve evidence of their crimes. Even the film’s line producer called the clearance excuse a joke and argued the clips were already publicly streamed. The absurdity writes itself.
The blowback was volcanic. The filmmakers called it censorship. General Tibon called the logic “absurd and bizarre.” Community leaders torched the decision as a stain on the festival. For a humiliating stretch, TIFF looked less like a champion of fearless cinema and more like a very nervous intern in Hamas’s publicity office.
Then—kaboom—the backflip. After the roasting reached a full rolling boil, TIFF’s CEO Cameron Bailey popped up with an apology “for any pain,” and a promise to work with the filmmakers to get the movie shown. Oh, now the legal fog lifts? Now the festival that couldn’t possibly screen the film suddenly might? That’s not due diligence. That’s reputational triage.
Here’s the part TIFF won’t say out loud: they didn’t just ask for normal festival deliverables. Reports detail a title change, beefed-up security, indemnification letters, and insurance hoops tall enough to make a stuntman sweat. When the team wouldn’t fold, TIFF tried to make the problem disappear. The only thing that disappeared was TIFF’s spine—until the outrage put it back in.
So let’s put a spotlight where TIFF tried to put a blindfold: terrorists filmed their own carnage and blasted it onto the internet. The public’s right to witness those crimes is not a bargaining chip for the criminals. Film festivals are supposed to defend uncomfortable truth, not deputize the killers as clearance officers.
TIFF can waffle and wordsmith all it likes, but everyone saw the stunt: first hand the scissors to Hamas, then, when the crowd screams, pretend the scissors were just resting on the table. No sale. Screen the film. Stop auditioning for the role of “curator for the cartel.” The grown-ups know what this footage is. Evidence.
