Without fail, you are certain to hear the following two things on a regular basis while attending the Sundance Film Festival:
1.
Check the list again, I know I’m on there. Do you know (insert name of publicist)? He/she put me on the list. They confirmed it with me last week. I’m the director of (insert title of Native American Lesbian musical that will never be seen outside of Park City). I can’t believe this! This is ridiculous! Do you feel important? Do you?! I mean, come on! (A beat of resignation). Do you have any extra gift bags?
But more often than not, you’ll hear the following:
2.
It’s so much worse than last year.
The second statement refers to this idea that somehow this is the year that finally killed the fairy tale Sundance. If you talk to people who have been coming for over a decade, you’ll hear stories about a navigable Main Street, casual conversations with great directors, and even getting into movies. (Really!)
And to some extent, the statement is true. I’ve been coming to the festival over the last nine years and I’ve never experienced traffic like this. Ticket availability is almost impossible, and I almost got trampled trying to get into a party on opening night.
However, the best and most honorable part of the festival is very much still alive. This is one of the only places in the world where you can see thousands of people clamoring to see independent movies. People who would normally never get out of bed to see any of the films programmed are desperate to get into screenings. The whole town feels positively electric and I couldn’t be more excited to be a part of it.
This year, my first feature film Thank You For Smoking, played as part of the premieres section–a section mostly comprised of films with distribution (in my case, FOX Searchlight). Other sections include the dramatic competition, the documentary competition, the world competition, American Spectrum, and of course the shorts.
Since 1998, I have brought three short films to Sundance. These screenings changed my life as a director. The Sundance seal is like having USDA approval on your reel. It forced people to pay attention to my work and gave me legitimacy as a filmmaker. In fact, it wasn’t until I played Sundance that I started calling myself a director.
The day of our premiere screening was simply a train of interviews moving 20 feet at a time down Main Street. It’s not very different from the 405. During the week of the festival, half of the shops and town homes on Main Street rent out their spaces to be converted into interview lounges, photo studios, swag rooms, and nightclubs.
I did one interview in a converted jail cell. Another in some guy’s living room. Of course, sometimes an interview doubles up as a giveaway lounge. You can do an Access Hollywood interview and be rewarded with a Motorola Razr. Or as some of my cast members experienced, be rewarded with a washer/dryer or a plasma television.
The evening started at the Northface House, where the cast and I dined with press. I felt awful for the woman from the Journal seated next to me. I spent the whole dinner in another room, nauseous, trying to write my introduction speech. I came back for a bite of dessert, just as we were being pulled away for the screening. Tourags took us to the Eccles Theater, the main ring of the Sundance circus. It seats around 1,400 people. Yikes.
While we’ve had good screenings already, there is nothing like the fear of premiering at Sundance. This one screening could determine the fate of your movie entirely. Geoff Gilmore (the director of Sundance) got up on stage and introduced me. My first words reflected the fact that I had seen Geoff introduce all of my favorite directors, and I couldn’t quite believe he had just brought me on stage. I went on to thank everyone dear to the film and then gave way to the projectionist to start the screening.
The film opened strong. People were generous with their laughter and their applause. It continued like this throughout the movie. In fact, the screening turned out to be an enormous success. However, something strange happened at the end of reel two. Thirty minutes into the film, a reel change occurred around twelve seconds early, leaving a short humorous scene missing. The scene wasn’t crucial to the plot. While the edit was jarring, most people didn’t miss a beat.
It was only after the screening, that I told the audience they had missed a sex scene with Katie Holmes and Aaron Eckhart. You should have heard the groans. In fact, you may have seen something about this incident in recent press. Interestingly enough, no one really picked up on this until two days after that screening. There was a 48-hour window in which no one seemed to care about this missing scene. Then all of a sudden I was being interviewed by every tabloid magazine and TV show I could name.
There were rumors flying all around Park City, passing off responsibility to everyone from Tom Cruise to the Mormons. I was even personally accused of snipping the frames myself. However, the truth of the matter was that the missing footage was sitting on the floor of a film assembly room after a projectionist misjudged the tail leader. Sorry, I know that’s not quite as sexy. But it’s the truth.
The footage was back in for the final screening at the end of the week. After days of the press building up what was thought to be a sultry scene, I think the audience was a little disappointed by what could only be described as tame. However, the true purpose of the scene remained. It’s a humorous scene and it got a great laugh.
While the first half of my week was comprised of mostly press, the second half opened up for me to see great films. Little Miss Sunshine is as good as its hype. Funny, charming, and a perfect feature debut by commercial directors Dayton/Ferris. Alpha Dog will be one of the best thrillers you’ve seen all year. 13 Tzameti is now one of my top five French films of all time. Quinciniera was just gorgeous. Shot by Eric Steelberg (who shot most of my commercials and short films), it manages to capture what filmmakers are always trying to achieve but rarely succeed–Consistent variteé and beauty at all times.
The highlight of the week was meeting directors that truly inspire me. Alexander Payne scared the crap out of me by actually attending my film. When introduced to him before the screening, I took the moment to tell him how much I’d stolen from him as a filmmaker. After, he came up to congratulate me and told me to take as much as I like.
But not even this could match up to meeting Kevin Smith. When I list the three films that made me want to be a director, I say Slacker, Clerks, and Bottle Rocket. They came out at the right time for me and spoke to a different kind of comedy. A unique point of view that gave me the confidence to develop my own voice.
Half way through my Sundance trip, I ended up playing in a celebrity/pro poker tournament (I don’t know why I was invited either). As we’re walking in, I see Kevin and go up to tell him how much Clerks meant to me as a director. He asks me what film I have in the festival. I told him Thank You For Smoking. He brightens up, “Your trailer looks great. It got four out of five hamburgers on joblo.com… That’s really good.”
So, have things changed? I don’t know. I may not know what it’s like to have a sit down meal in Park City. But I wouldn’t it trade it in for the world.
