Here's why Sundance lives up to the hype

By Brittany Strickland

February 25, 2008 | Sundance, Oh! Darling. Your sweetness is my weakness.

It's easy to hear the words "Sundance Film Festival" and rightly, imagine movies being shown where ushers strive to be good hosts. You can think of seats made of puffy cushions and reclining backs. The comfort of the warm indoors. This is not the Sundance I know. What I know is versatility. It's pleasing, it's romantic, and it's even controversial. I know the brutal beating of wind against my cheeks as I stand outside breakfast shops, too early to be open. I know the thin chill as my pants, wet with rain up to the shin, grab my legs, clinging to my ankles, and make each step sting.

Every year when Park City hosts Sundance, I expect to be pleasantly surprised while simultaneously shivering through my smile, and I have never yet been disappointed. Others I've met share my enthusiasm.

In an office with an avocado-colored wall and a pine desk, which resembled the subtle shade of tumbleweeds, Northern Utah ski instructor, Gena Edwards, shared her thoughts on her experiences at the festival. Seated, legs crossed and hands on lap, Edwards spoke about the authenticity of Park City and its related venues. It is obvious there are common Hollywood hot spots such as New York or Los Angeles, glittering and glistening with fortune. I was curious to hear Edwards' feelings on the popularity Utah gets during the festival.

"Park City is an extremely manageable hot spot, and it's far more intimate and definitely more beautiful than other places," Edwards said. "It fits the personality of the Hollywood scene and the ideas that Hollywood embraces, such as the environment. The fame that Utah receives once a year is a treat for the locals and the real celebrities are here to promote their independent films while also getting to enjoy the outdoors and the fresh mountain air."

Not only are there cinematic experiences but the city also has scenic beauty. Various sports such as skiing and snowboarding, horseback riding and hiking, enhance the excitement. And of course, at this time of year, the film festival prompts multiple celebrities and artistic minds to converge and create unique and authentic films and music.

This year, Sundance took 121 feature-length films out of 3,625 that were submitted.

Is that enough to get a real sense of variety during the festival?

Edwards thinks it is. "I don't mind that there is competitiveness in the film selection. This year, the focus has been on comedies, albeit comedies with a dark edge. It's the sense of contradiction that appeals to a wide range of people."

Unable to meet in person, I discussed the movie selection over the phone with Sundance employee Lisa McDonald who disagreed with Edwards, saying, "There are some lifestyles and points of view very much catered to in the showings. It's a very slanted view towards the ultra-left."

The festival attracts various opinions, including those of Taylor Christensen, a student at the University of Utah. Every year, Christensen likes to venture to Park City for the atmosphere of Sundance. I met with him there, inside of one of the local art galleries on Main Street. Next to him sat the owner's dog, Kato, watching the passers-by near the window with curious intent.

During our conversation, Christensen said, "There are always nice things to do in the day or night when you visit Sundance. It’s very nice. I imagine it’s something like the enchanting parts of a big city. There's so much to do and so much fun to be had during the festival."

Christensen left saying, "If you live in any part of Utah and you've never been to Sundance, go."

After leaving the gallery, I struggled up Main Street through sticky salt on slippery slush. As I stood at the top of the hill, I looked down at the bustling feet walking on the sides of their toes to avoid unexpected trenches of snow. Park City resembles a postcard of a winter wonderland. It is the demise of January and the lights are still hovering above our heads, snow is still sleeping on the ground, and people are wrapped up to their noses with scarves and wool-brimmed hats. Visitors make the best effort at surviving on a clothing line to keep themselves warm.

Everyone decides how they are going to cope with the weather and then they venture out into the crowd. There was one popular place to seek refuge from the flutter of snow that was horizontally pecking my hands and nose. This place was known as the Java Cow. The "Java" is a quaint coffee shop, with the ambiance of dimmed lights and dark paneling along the counter. It is a real fancy feel. Then, as if painted on one canvas by two painters, there's the "Cow." Black and white blotches are heaved onto the walls. Even the pipes along the ceiling are dripping with pink udders.

The shop is confusing to the eyes but equally as gracious because there is a large window that allows customers to watch shops open and people try to park Sport Utility Vehicles in spaces fit for a Mini Coop. Edwards put it best when she said, "The atmosphere of local cafes is simply incomparable. There is so much activity without the congestion of clutter."

As I walked past a damp poster featuring the movie Be Kind, Rewind, it was clear that an eclectic group of people come together for Sundance's presentations. Some of these people represent organizations. One example: PETA. PETA was directly in my sight, screaming at people who were waltzing around in furry coats or boats. I saw two women, one sporting a 1920's beaver-skinned coat and the other a raccoon, both with furry skin dragging behind their heels. These women were being warned by fellow fur-wearers that PETA was "just around the corner" and to "walk on the other side of the street to avoid being humiliated."

Many people thought PETA's presence was unprofessional and intrusive. Others were proud to have a voice protecting the environment and those who live in it. McDonald later wrote to me, concerning the topic, saying, "I was glad PETA was there raising awareness. So many film makers are finally putting out their positive views."

However, Edwards thought that no matter your opinion, organizations such as those should "back off for one second and let people enjoy the day without criticism. An outside walk is nothing more than an outside walk, and need not be ruined by others."

Aside from the fury that can come from opposing views, there are some aspects of the festival that can never be overlooked. One of these aspects: the buildings. During Sundance, every house seems to radiate with warmth. All sorts of architecture are scattered along the hillside, seeming propped up against each other. Snowflakes tip the beams that line the roofs and walls. They drip off of gutters. They solidify on the ground. They cause slips and slides but maintain their appeal, and even though that appeal may feel hazardous, the trip is worthwhile if for nothing else but to see the composure of fallen ice.

It's the natural occurrences at Sundance that attract visitors -- occurrences like canyon winds and dagger-like icicles. No matter how bitter your toes can feel in stiff shoes and thin socks at the end of the day, what sticks with you is the overall experience.

One question I asked of each of my guests was concerning their overall experience in the city. McDonald thought about her response and then said, "Sundance is a great place and I look forward to learning a lot about the culture of Park City each year."

Christensen said, "The festival is one of the finest things Utah has to offer."

Edwards finished the interview, saying, "I go every year and I recommend that friends plan their ski vacations around the festival. The resorts are all empty and free of crowds so it's easy to enjoy the life that the festival offers. Every view you catch is stunning and it's easy to see what the excitement of Sundance is all about."

Roll the credits.

MS
MS