To participate in the Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF) is to simultaneously run both a sprint and a marathon. Over the eleven-day festival, 293 films were screened an average of four times each at the Princess of Wales Theatre, Roy Thomson Hall, the Royal Alexandra Theatre, the TIFF Lightbox, and Scotiabank Theatre Toronto. That’s over one thousand screenings, starting daily as early as 8:00 a.m. and ending as late as 2:00 a.m. Fervent festivalgoer Eric Tisch set a Guinness World Record last year by watching 78 feature films. As impressive and mind-boggling as that number may be, it still means he missed roughly 90% of all screenings, each one unique in the experience it offers.

Therein lies the biggest asset of TIFF, as well as its biggest drawback for completionists such as myself. Spread over a dozen sections, the programmers seek to pack in as much as they can, seemingly paying homage to the festival's founding aim of being a collection of the best films from other festivals around the world, such as the closely held Venice International Film Festival and Telluride Film Festival. That goal has been expanded to include several star-studded world premieres, making every night a birth or rebirth for a film’s presence in the culture.

But before a film can stick within the greater culture, it has to land within an audience’s mind, which can be difficult if they’re watching multiple films every day. Even though I attended only seven days this year instead of the full eleven, I was able to cram in thirty films. Simple math tells you I watched at least four movies a day, a few of them with runtimes eclipsing three hours. Aggressive note-taking is required to file each movie in my brain, and physical stamina is required to stay awake. But great movies always make the effort worthwhile, just like crossing the finish line after a grueling race.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t a movie this year that made me levitate out of the theater like The Fabelmans, The Beast, or Hamnet did in previous years. That could be a symptom of distributors growing increasingly wary of film festivals, and my personal opinion that this year has been one of the weakest in recent memory. Still, while the ceiling was lowered, many films were closer to that than the floor.

Taking the coveted People's Choice Award, as well as the top spot in my personal rankings, was the Spanish-language wartime drama La Bola Negra. The film came into the festival with a head of steam from its rapturous premiere in Cannes a few months back, and that sentiment was repeated here with standing ovations and sold-out screenings. Threading three timelines together into one epic narrative, writer/directors Javier Calvo and Javier Ambrossi deliver sumptuous visuals and bold editing. It's a throwback to the prestige Oscar vehicles of the '90s, with a modern twist through its homosexual subject matter. Netflix will begin rolling out the film in theaters in October, with prominent local placements at the MSP Cine Latino Film Festival and Twin Cities Film Fest. Be sure to catch it there, as it will be one of the most talked about and rewarded films of the year.

The crowdpleasers I Play Rocky and Being Heumann placed second and third in the People's Choice Awards, respectively. While it could be accused of being overly simplistic and relying too much on the beats of its source material, the former is a winning retelling of Sylvester Stallone's underdog journey to becoming Rocky Balboa. Star Anthony Ippolito perfectly recreates the voice and mannerisms of Stallone, sometimes making it impossible to tell the two apart. Being Heumann goes for that same energy, albeit with more importance, as it dramatizes the 1977 Judith Heumann-led occupation of a federal building to secure accessibility laws and equal rights. The film has clear affection for its characters, many played by real-life disabled actors. It's a predictable heartwarmer, available for the whole family on Apple TV just before Thanksgiving.

Undeservedly walking away empty-handed from the festival was the A24 duo of The Debut and Club Kid. Starring in the former, Julianne Moore seems like a lock to win her second Oscar for her performance as a timid housewife who loses herself in a small role as part of a local musical theater production. She earned a round of applause midway through the film for a hilarious vocal sparring session with co-star Paul Giamatti, who will also be vying for an Oscar. The latter film is Jordan Firstman's debut feature as writer/director/star, which played through the roof at my later screening. It is Big Daddy for a new generation, with Firstman taking over Adam Sandler's role as an unadjusted party promoter forced to grow up once it's revealed that he has a child.

Speaking of Oscars, star Andrew Scott will surely be a contender in the crowded field of Best Lead Actor for his larger-than-life performance in Elsinore. He cries, laughs, and slowly dies from AIDS as he delivers Shakespeare. He'll be competing with John Malkovich for Wild Horse Nine, the newest film from In Bruges and The Banshees of Inisherin writer/director Martin McDonagh. This newest film doesn't break that darkly comedic mold, but it's still one of the funniest films of the year, with impressive performances from its relatively small cast. It'll be Searchlight Pictures' prized pony, releasing it starting in November.

It's not always sunshine and rainbows in terms of Oscar prospects, with plenty of films being dead on arrival. Wicked star Cynthia Erivo bought the film rights and replaced Jodie Comer in the adaptation of the one-woman play Prima Facie. But by expanding the scope to include more characters, the film is stodgy and on-the-nose at every turn. It still lacks US distribution, so it's unclear when general audiences will even get to see it. A24 did suffer a small blow with Misty Green, writer/director Chris Rock's tonally confused take on the Hollywood hustle. And then Florian Zeller's Bunker turned out to be significantly worse than his previous feature The Son, which was already considered a massive disappointment. The talented Javier Bardem and Penélope Cruz are wasted in a preachy story about love that is way too easy to hate. I wouldn't be surprised if Sony Pictures Classics saves face and locks this film in a bunker.

This is an international film festival after all, with plenty of great work outside of the English-speaking world. Asia arrived with the densely intellectual and lengthy features Possible Love and All of a Sudden. While rigorously rewarding in the moment, both will require lots of time afterwards to deconstruct their full messages. The frontlines of World War I were seen through an unprecedented tender lens in Coward, as was a modern-day high school field trip in La Gradiva. And while having a runtime of nearly 150 minutes kind of defeats the point of being labeled as a thriller, Andrey Zvyagintsev's Minotaur intercuts a personal tragedy with the ongoing Russian invasion of Ukraine.

I'd like to give a special shout-out to Gabby's King West bar and the Sunset Grill, two of the only places open late and/or early enough to save me from solely subsisting on a diet of Tim Hortons donuts and movie theater popcorn. Of course, I could have just prioritized my diet a little more and skipped a movie every once in a while. But while my stomach would have been rewarded, my mind would have been starved of great artistic works, the likes of which will be carried with me infinitely longer than any piece of food. TIFF is a buffet, and I always leave a happy customer.