Imagine a world where the success of a film isn’t just about a compelling story or a director’s vision, but a calculated equation of data points, power dynamics, and human intuition. That’s the paradox the film industry is grappling with today, and it was on full display at Locarno Pro this year. What struck me most wasn’t the debate itself, but how deeply it reflects a cultural reckoning: Are we letting algorithms dictate our art, or is there still room for the messy, unpredictable magic of human creativity?
Let’s start with the elephant in the room: data. It’s everywhere now, from box office predictions to audience sentiment analysis. But here’s what many people don’t realize—data is a mirror, not a master. When Doris Ruth Eikhof, CEO of Design Otherwise, argued that power structures and data should come before people, she wasn’t just talking about numbers. She was acknowledging that the stories we tell are shaped by who holds the power to fund, distribute, and greenlight projects. Data, in this context, becomes a tool to reinforce existing hierarchies. What makes this particularly fascinating is how it challenges the myth of objectivity in analytics. If we’re sorting out ‘power structures first,’ are we really creating space for underrepresented voices, or are we just repackaging old gatekeeping systems in a spreadsheet?
Then there’s Andrea Occhipinti, whose approach—people first, power second, data third—feels like a breath of fresh air. He’s not wrong to prioritize human judgment. After all, how do you quantify the raw emotional impact of a film like Moonlight or Ida? These aren’t just movies; they’re cultural artifacts that defy algorithmic logic. But here’s the rub: Occhipinti’s team still uses data, just in a different way. They test audience reactions through community feedback, which is a form of data—but it’s messy, organic, and inherently human. This raises a deeper question: Can we trust data that’s born from human interaction, or does it always risk becoming a crutch for decision-making? I think the answer lies somewhere in the middle. Data isn’t the enemy, but it shouldn’t be the sole compass.
Yasmine Talli’s perspective—people, data, power—offers a pragmatic middle ground. She’s not dismissing instinct, but she’s also not ignoring the market realities of the film industry. Her point about using comparables to gauge a film’s potential is telling. It’s a reminder that even the most passionate advocates for art have to navigate a business world that demands accountability. What this really suggests is that the industry is caught in a tug-of-war between idealism and pragmatism. On one hand, we want to champion bold, unconventional stories. On the other, we need to ensure they’re financially viable. It’s a tension that’s only going to intensify as streaming platforms and AI tools reshape how we measure success.
And let’s not forget the elephant in the room: Stephen Follows’ presentation on the illusion of control. His data showing that most top-grossing films feature ‘nepo babies’ or that indie films rarely turn a profit is a wake-up call. It’s easy to romanticize the idea of art triumphing over commerce, but the numbers tell a different story. What many people don’t realize is that the film industry’s obsession with data isn’t just about efficiency—it’s about survival. In an era where streaming services are constantly canceling shows and studios are betting big on franchises, the pressure to ‘get it right’ has never been higher. But here’s the catch: If we let data dictate every choice, we risk creating a monoculture of safe, predictable content. That’s not just boring—it’s dangerous for creativity.
So where does that leave us? I think the answer lies in embracing the chaos. Power, people, data—they’re not a hierarchy, they’re a dance. We need to recognize that data can’t replace the human spark that makes art resonate. But we also can’t ignore the realities of the market. The real challenge is finding a balance where intuition and analytics coexist without one consuming the other. What I find especially interesting is how this debate mirrors larger cultural shifts. In a world increasingly dominated by algorithms, the film industry’s struggle to reconcile data with human creativity is a microcosm of our collective dilemma: How do we preserve the soul of art in an age of optimization? The answer, I suspect, will require more than just better algorithms—it’ll demand a radical reimagining of what it means to create, distribute, and consume art in the 21st century.
