
Growing up in Scotland as a young boy who dreamt of making films was not easy. Although Scottish cinema is in a healthier place today, choosing to study film after finishing high school in 2015 felt like a risky decision at the time. From the mainstream perspective back then, Scottish cinema seemed limited to a handful of well-known titles such as Sunshine on Leith and Brave. That was the perception I held as a cinema‑obsessed seventeen‑year‑old.
Everything changed for me during the summer between finishing school and starting college, when I first discovered the Edinburgh International Film Festival (EIFF). Attending live Q&As and meeting filmmakers and cinematographers like Haskell Wexler, Seamus McGarvey and actor Ewan McGregor—someone I’d grown up watching and who starred in what I consider one of the greatest Scottish films—was transformative. Seeing films screened to packed audiences and hearing filmmakers speak felt unlike anything I had experienced. I immediately knew I wanted more: two weeks each summer devoted to films, discussions and the shared excitement of cinema opened an entirely new world right on my doorstep.

The festival introduced me to films from around the world that I would otherwise never have seen. More importantly, it proved that Scottish films were being made and gave me a place to find them. Over the years I discovered gems such as John McPhail’s Anna and the Apocalypse, Ninian Doff’s Get Duked and Charlotte Wells’ Aftersun. These discoveries reinforced my decision to study film and shaped the way I approach cinema.
Both EIFF and its home venue, the Edinburgh Filmhouse, played an enormous role in my education and in my early career. The festival programmed one of the first international films I saw, The 400 Blows, and sparked my interest in film programming and hosting Q&As. Over time I screened my own short films there, shared spaces with filmmakers and actors including John Landis, Joe Dante, Oliver Stone, Kevin Bacon and Richard E. Grant, and had the privilege of experiencing classic films on the big screen for the first time—films like The Seventh Seal, The Exorcist, There Will Be Blood, A Nightmare on Elm Street and 2001: A Space Odyssey. The Filmhouse also supported contemporary favourites such as Once Upon a Time… in Hollywood, Bait, Uncut Gems, Spencer and Licorice Pizza.

So when, on the morning of 6 October 2022, I learned that both EIFF and the Filmhouse had ceased trading immediately, I felt devastated. These institutions had given me so much—how could they simply stop without a chance to say goodbye? The history of EIFF in particular is extraordinary. Founded in 1947, it is one of the longest‑running film festivals in the world and a cultural landmark that helped put Scotland on the map. The festival brought filmmakers of international stature to Edinburgh and introduced countless important films to UK audiences. John Huston once praised the festival for being uniquely valuable; its cultural influence has been profound.
The closures affected many in the film community. Filmmakers and critics expressed shock and disappointment. Tributes acknowledged the role both institutions played in launching careers and nurturing film culture. Support quickly mobilised: groups formed to campaign for the Filmhouse, candlelit vigils were held outside the building, and petitions gathered tens of thousands of signatures. Political and cultural leaders engaged in discussions about potential ways to preserve the venues and the festival’s legacy.
Yet the threat to venues like the Filmhouse is part of a wider crisis for cinema. The cinema business depends on box office revenue, and when audience attention concentrates on a narrow range of blockbuster films, smaller and more diverse films struggle to find theatrical space. The contemporary box office is dominated by franchise and family‑oriented blockbusters designed to draw mass audiences. While this has boosted total grosses and occasionally produced breakout hits from smaller films, it has also narrowed the options cinemas can afford to program.

Film is an art form, not just a commercial commodity. Audiences have diverse tastes and deserve access to a variety of films—innovative, independent and international voices that expand our cinematic horizons. Venues such as the Filmhouse and festivals like EIFF are crucial because they champion those films and create the public spaces where audiences can discover them.
The future of both institutions remains uncertain, but if they are to continue they must be supported and protected. For me, the Filmhouse and EIFF did more than show films: they widened my cinematic palette, deepened my passion, provided opportunities I would not otherwise have had, and made a career in movies seem possible where I grew up. For that, I will always be grateful. Whatever comes next, I hope these cultural pillars can be saved and renewed so future generations can experience the same inspiration I found there.
