Canada's biggest documentary festival says it's dying. Documentarians worry they're next

A misunderstood and mistreated killer whale. An investigation into the 1999 Columbine High School massacre and American gun culture at large. An inconvenient truth about the future of planet Earth in the face of devastating climate change.

If you go by overwhelmingly successful films like Blackfish, Bowling for Columbine and An Inconvenient Truth, it might seem like documentaries are everywhere we look, affecting and influencing how we perceive society and the world at large. But even as audiences clamour for true stories on their screens, the documentarians that make them are sounding alarm bells about the future of documentary filmmaking.

"I think in every respect, it's really more difficult. Streamers, broadcasters — there's an attrition that is happening," said Jennifer Holness, a documentary filmmaker and producer who's worked in the industry for over 20 years. 

"That's just dollars and cents — you know, less money — and that less money translates to less commissioning, which translates to smaller budgets, which translates to upheaval."

The result is clear, she says: a contracting industry that increasingly struggles to support documentarians.

While that contraction will most affect marginalized voices, she says it will eventually impact all creators, leaving only those wealthy enough to do it — undermining the purpose, and benefit, of documentaries.

"It becomes something for those who can afford it or a part-time gig that you can't sustain," she said. "This is not healthy. It's not a healthy space for people to be operating out of."

It's a trend that's been observed by more than just filmmakers themselves.

Alongside a general suffering and shuttering of arts institutions across the country, Canada's largest documentary film festival sent a dizzying number of emails ahead of its 31st annual showing this year. 

Alongside emailed entreaties as blunt as "I'll be completely honest with you: we're struggling," written by Hot Docs president Marie Nelson, a profile in the Globe and Mail hammered home the precarious situation faced by the festival.

"We really meant it when we said that we were fearful that this year's festival is going to be our last," said Nelson when asked about the festival's request for emergency financial support from Ottawa. 

Hot Docs representatives declined to speak to CBC for this article, but the struggling industry is far from the festival's only concern.

In a recent interview with CBC, Nelson said the festival was still feeling the effects of COVID-19 pandemic. As well, 10 festival employees recently resigned, blaming an "unprofessional and discriminatory environment" after a new artistic director was hired, resulting in a curtailed number of films over prior years. That director, Hussain Currimbhoy, stepped down in March.

And after the government neglected to provide emergency funding for Hot Docs, two high-profile Hot Docs board members resigned just days before the festival began in late April. That reduced its total number of board members from 24 last year to 13 now.