Seeing Stars Dan Webster’s First Appearance At The Sundance Film Festival Proves Gratifying, Even If He Didn’t Get To Mingle With Gwyneth Paltrow Or Robert Redford
Things were quiet at the Salt Lake City airport. So quiet that the young guy staffing the Sundance Film Festival information booth seemed excited by my approach.
His smile lasted just long enough for me to ask for directions to the festival site.
“Do you have lodging in Park City?” he asked.
He relaxed only when I told him that I did.
“That’s good,” he said. “Some people say no, and I have to tell them that there’s no chance of finding a room at this point.”
The thought occurred to me, not for the first time: What was I getting into?
While not a newcomer to film festivals, I was making my first trip to Sundance. I was just one of many reporters and critics given credentials to cover the world’s most prominent exposition of American independent film.
A regular January event, Sundance ‘98 expected to attract more than 13,000 fans during its 10-day run (11 days if you count the Jan. 15 opening-night gala in Salt Lake City).
Its lineup included 103 featurelength movies and more than 60 shorts, many of them American and/or world premieres.
Available rooms, then, understandably were at a premium. And even if they could be found, the cost might well prove prohibitive. Some hotels more than doubled their prices once the festival started.
This is hardly surprising when you consider the reality that is Park City, a resort town located 45 miles southeast of Salt Lake. Situated at an elevation of 7,000 feet, Park City boasts some 7,500 full-time residents, three ski resorts, a half dozen art galleries, 10 espresso houses, 14 private clubs (designed to get around Utah’s conservative drinking laws) and nearly 90 eateries that offer every type of food from Thai to Mexican, pasta to burgers, steaks to sushi.
Winter sports are Park City’s main draw, even during the film festival, and stores catering to the ski/snowboard crowd seem to monopolize every corner.
Even so, some skiers spend their nights seeing movies. While waiting in line one evening, a guy in front of me kept falling asleep.
“I was skiing all day,” he explained, his French accent as thick as his day-old whiskers. “I am exhausted.”
The question is, considering the area’s other attractions, why does Sundance itself attract such enthusiasm?
Because unlike other fan-oriented festivals, particularly those held in such Northwest venues as Seattle or Vancouver B.C., Sundance appeals to people who actually work in the industry.
In various conversations while standing in line - and everyone, stars included, stands in line at Sundance one time or another - I met filmmakers, film producers, film buyers, film critics, agents, production scouts, aspiring screenwriters and, on at least one occasion, an actual actor.
And that actor, Christopher McDonald of “Flubber” fame, turned out to be nothing like the standard notion of a Hollywood celebrity. He was simply a regular guy.
But that’s precisely my point: Even when their first priority was business, most of the people that I met during my five days at Sundance - and this included Sundance staff and Park City resort and restaurant employees - proved to be polite, interesting and fun to talk with.
In fact, I suffered only one real disappointment.
I never got to see Robert Redford.
“I can’t believe that I’m standing here in front of Gwyneth Paltrow.” - Peter Howitt, director of “Sliding Doors”
My wife, Mary Pat, has been telling people that there are four things to do in Park City during the film festival. You can ski, you can network, you can party and you can see movies.
I would add a fifth.
You can stargaze.
Such was the case one night when we saw Brenda Blethyn, Oscar-nominated for “Secrets and Lies,” who walked out of the Park City Library after appearing at the premiere of her new film, “Girls’ Night.”
Looking for shelter on another sleet-filled evening, we stepped into a Starbucks on Park City’s Main Street. Five minutes later, another one-time Oscar nominee, Jennifer Tilly, walked in.
(And two things I can tell you about the “Bullets Over Broadway” star. One, her normal speaking voice easily fills a room. Two, that trademark voice is nowhere near as adolescently nasal as it sounds on the big screen.)
Besides Tilly, Blethyn and McDonald, we also saw Charles S. Dutton (of television’s “Roc”), Courtney B. Vance (“The Preacher’s Wife”), Gary Farmer (“Powwow Highway,” “Smoke Signals”), Steven Weber (television’s “Wings”), John Hannah (“Four Weddings and a Funeral”), and Sam Rockwell (“Box of Moonlight”).
And Gwyneth Paltrow.
The star of “Emma,” “Seven” and “Jefferson in Paris” took the stage of Salt Lake’s Abravanel Hall to support “Sliding Doors” director Peter Howitt at this film’s world premiere.
(That was the good news. The bad news was that by the time I got into the post-film party, Paltrow was long gone.)
Other celebrity-seeking festgoers were luckier. They spotted the likes of Matthew Modine and Daryl Hannah, Gabriel Byrne and Leno Olin, Ben Affleck and Vincent Gallo, Phil Donahue and Marlo Thomas, Neve Campbell and Timothy Hutton, Sally Field and Brooke Shields.
Even Mickey Rooney showed up at the Shadow Ridge Resort Hotel, site of the festival headquarters, looking to buy souvenirs.
Fun, eh? Sure, but it points out the obvious problem facing the typical Sundance festgoer who holds multiple interests: You need to choose among activities.
For me, the choice was simple. I don’t ski, I attended only one party (the opening-night gala) and I networked by talking to everyone I met, by doing a couple of interviews and by attending one press conference.
I spotted celebrities only when they showed their faces.
My priority was watching movies, and I ended up seeing 20 of them in five full days and an evening.
Movie-watching was why I had come in the first place. My commitment was to see “Smoke Signals,” the Chris Eyre-directed movie version of a short story from Sherman Alexie’s book “The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven.” I managed that by attending the Jan. 16 premiere.
Alexie, the Wellpinit-born poet and novelist who now lives in Seattle, was on hand to gauge crowd reaction to the movie, which had been filmed at various Inland Northwest locations - Soap Lake, Spokane and several North Idaho sites. He and the rest of the filmmakers were heartened by the premiere audience’s enthusiastic reaction, which included a long ovation and even a cheer or two.
I stood in line for a full 90 minutes to ensure that I got in.
And I was standing in another line on Saturday - this time while doing research on Slamdance, the alternative Park City film festival that runs concurrently with Sundance (see related story) - when Redford made his only appearance, a brief stop at the Jan. 17 filmmakers’ brunch.
My consolation was I wasn’t the only one to miss him.
Talking about the struggle that he went through to make “Sliding Doors,” writer-director Howitt explained on opening night how he had struggled to bring his movie to Sundance.
“And,” he said, jokingly annoyed, “Robert Redford isn’t even here!”
Yet even when he’s not around, Redford makes his presence felt. After hastening back to Northern California, where he is putting the final touches on his forthcoming feature “The Horse Whisperer,” Redford remained at the festival in spirit.
For one thing, veterans noticed that the 20-year-old festival, which is now run by Redford’s Sundance Institute, operated this year more smoothly than ever.
Free festival shuttles (augmented by Park City’s practice of offering free bus service during ski season), better organization, improved screening sites (some of which are held in hotel banquet rooms) and more cooperation from city officials and merchants had many festgoers singing Sundance’s praises.
As for the films, they played to mostly filled houses.
So clearly I wasn’t the only one forsaking the ski slopes, the parties or the networking opportunities.
“Get him on the phone and get him on the phone NOW!” - Man speaking on cell phone in front of Park City’s Yarrow Hotel
The snow had stopped falling, finally, and now it was the temperature’s turn to drop. In the dark night sky, barely a half-hour before midnight, every star seemed ablaze.
Those stars that our steamy breath didn’t obscure, that is.
My wife and I had just attended another evening screening, this one featuring “Blind Faith,” a film destined for Showtime’s cable network, and we were reminded once again why this mountain town is as much a ski paradise as it is a retreat for movie types.
The temperature was in single digits, the streets were as slick as baby oil poured over glass, and the forecast said that more cold was on the way.
None of which was lost on the guy who was standing nearby, bouncing from one foot to the other while waiting for the shuttle. Wearing only a light coat and slacks, he was dressed as if it were just another balmy Los Angeles afternoon.
Still, he was carrying the obligatory Sundance accessory - a cell phone.
Portable phones are as common to Sundance as breast implants are to Hollywood starlets. Signs posted outside every theater warn moviegoers to turn off their beepers and cell phones before entering.
It was common to hear multiple phone conversations going on as the house lights were going down. And sometimes longer.
What’s clear is that there is a certain Sundance protocol. And adhering to it necessitates a certain Sundance fluency.
Here are some guidelines:
Learn the language, part 1: A film festival is never referred to by its full name. Just identify it by site. For example, you might say, “‘Fargo’? Yeah, I first saw that at Toronto.” Or Telluride. Or Cannes.
Learn the language, part 2: Talk about a screenplay’s “arc.” Talk about an character’s “motivation.” Talk about a filmmaker’s “intention.” (Important note: Never let on that you like Steven Seagal movies.)
At large parties where you don’t know anyone, perfect the cross-the-room stare. This lets everyone know that you’re looking for someone important - or at least someone specific.
Refine your sense of cool. If you’re a filmgoer, be ready to stand in line for up to two hours only to find out that the last available seat went to the person standing just ahead of you. (If a filmmaker, reconcile yourself to the possibility that the film might break, the sound may go out or, as once happened to “Wicked” director Michael Steinberg, the roof might start to leak.)
Use the Force wisely. One afternoon, I listened to a young festgoer from San Francisco explain how he regularly crashed screenings. He knew where every back door was and just how much pressure it took to pop it open, but his most dependable ploy was straight out of “Star Wars.”
“I mostly depend on the old Jedi mind trick,” he said. “Just clap them on the shoulder, say, ‘Hey, how ya doin’,’ and walk by. They never want to be rude and admit that they don’t know you.”
He didn’t tell me his name. But it might have been Luke.
“I feel, after 20 years of commitment, I find with Sundance that it’s rolling along in a way that begins to satisfy the point of it all.” - Robert Redford, as quoted in Daily Variety
One of the biggest tensions at Sundance involves ticket availability. Unless you purchase a special ticket package, which usually are sold out by Dec. 1, buying individual tickets is an adventure.
After they went on sale Jan. 10, my wife spent all of that day (Saturday) and 45 minutes Sunday morning just trying to get through to the box office. When she finally did, only eight showings (at $7 apiece) were still available.
But all was not lost. For there’s always the wait-list line.
Since the festival releases a certain number of tickets each day, and since some ticket-holders just don’t show up, there’s typically an availability for those willing to arrive early. We weren’t turned away from any movie we really wanted to see.
And was the wait worth it?
Well, of the films I saw, at least some are bound to play even Spokane: Joel Coen’s “The Big Lebowski,” Ken Burns’ “Frank Lloyd Wright,” Nick Hurran’s “Girls’ Night,” Ernest Dickerson’s “Blind Faith” and Brian Skeet’s “The Misadventures of Margaret.”
More to the point, out of 20 movies, I rated 17 of them with three stars or more. Two were average, and one was hilariously bad. That makes a good-to-average-to-bad ratio of 17-2-1.
When was the last time you had that much movie-going success in Spokane?
Of course, Sundance isn’t about mere box-office success. Most of the films that play this festival would never open at your neighborhood fourplex. Unless, of course, you live near the Lincoln Heights Cinemas. Or the new Magic Lantern.
Sundance derives its very meaning by not catering to the mainstream.
This point isn’t lost on someone such as myself, whose tastes run the gamut of movie themes and styles from “Smoke Signals” to “Smokey and the Bandit,” from “Being There” to “Bean.” Someone who is as at home in Park City as he is the Spokane Valley Mall.
I ponder such mixed feelings as I recall walking into Sundance’s opening-night party, the one with the live band, tables of food and drink, but no celebrities of note.
Certainly, to my everlasting regret, no Gwyneth Paltrow.
I ponder what to make of this thing called Sundance as I recall taking several laps through the crowd, utilizing my best cross-the-room stare before retiring to the Park Citybound bus.
It was there that I discovered the driver watching a video of Steven Seagal’s “Out for Justice.” And so I joined her.
I hated it, of course. But I watched anyway.
I might have called Bob Redford to complain, but I couldn’t figure out how to use my cell phone.
, DataTimes ILLUSTRATION: 4 Photos (2 Color)