Sundance 10 years later

Sundance 10 years later

by Keith T. Barber



Sundance journal entry dated Jan. 25, 2009: “Last night offered the perfect ending to my best Sundance experience to date. Sundance provides a mirror of the soul. If each day at the film festival is an ever-increasing joy, that’s a sign that you’ve achieved a good measure of happiness in life. If, on the other hand, things don’t appear to fall into place and the festival seems cold and unfeeling, that should indicate you’re at a low point in your life. I’ve experienced both ends of the spectrum now.

“I’ll never forget my first Sundance in 1999. I went to see my final screening on the last day of the festival before driving home to my log cabin in the woods. I remember sitting there in my living room, staring into space for hours and wondering, ‘What the hell am I supposed to do now?’”

It has been a little more than a week since I returned from the 2009 Sundance Film Festival. Reading over this journal entry, I think about my physical state at the time of its writing. It was a state of extreme sleep deprivation brought on by 7 a.m. call times for my daily eight-hour shifts at the festival’s press department, my commitment to seeing at least 20 films, and my desire to attend as many social functions as possible. From my perspective, Sundance connotes so many good things. There is this positive energy that flows through the festival, an energy that surpasses comprehension. Loyal volunteers like myself know not the source of this energy. We only know it exists. You feel it the moment you step off the plane at the Salt Lake City Airport, and see the Sundance banners flying high above the baggage claim area.

Next thing you know, you’re whisked up Parley’s Canyon by an airport shuttle driver and arrive at the Park City Marriott, otherwise known as Sundance Headquarters. The positive vibe is momentarily suppressed during the 30-minute shuttle ride. I’m not sure why. I think it has something to do with the state of mind of the driver. Let’s face it. If you had to shuttle people around the Salt Lake basin, a region known for its horrible air quality, you’d be in a foul mood, too.

However, once you enter the lobby of Sundance HQ, the energy envelops you again. There is this overwhelming sense of optimism that coincides with the arrival of Sundance volunteers, press and industry folks and filmmakers. The volunteers are looking forward to reconnecting with old friends. The press and industry folks are excited about the shwag possibilities and the proximity of a number of Main Street bars. But for the filmmakers, most of all, hope springs eternal. Sundance has launched a number of directorial careers including Steven Soderbergh, Quentin Tarantino, Kevin Smith, Richard Linklater, Steve James, Davis Guggenheim, and countless others.

My experience working at Sundance theatre venues underscores the importance of the audience ballot. Four categories of films are balloted at Sundance — US Documentaries, US Dramatic, World Cinema Documentaries and World Cinema Dramatic. It is drilled into every theatre venue volunteer that the audience award in each of these categories can make or break a director’s career. Therefore, Sundance enforces very strict rules about the handling of ballots and expects all its 1,600 volunteers to obey these rules.

So, after I’ve checked in, received my housing assignment and my new Sundance outerwear (normally a ski jacket and vest), I adhere to my tradition of sitting on the plush leather sofas in the hotel lobby and soaking up the atmosphere. While I savor this quiet time, I plot out my week. The Sundance film guide contains a wealth of information including film synopses and show times. With a heavy emphasis on screening documentary films, I circle the films that appear the most intriguing. Here’s a Sundance hint: Stick with the US and World Cinema documentaries, and the World Cinema dramatic films. You can’t go wrong. The reason is simple: The pool of entries in these categories is much larger than that of the US Dramatic category. Sundance’s programming committee does an excellent job selecting the very best from the thousands of films that are submitted by international filmmakers.

Just to give you a sense of proportion, this year set a record for Sundance film submissions with more than 9,000. Sundance programmers selected a total of 216 — 120 features and 96 short films. By the way, I can’t say enough about the shorts programs. This year, I only had the opportunity to view one of the shorts programs, Shorts IV, which contained seven fantastic films. I also got to see the documentary shorts program, which included one of my favorite films this year, ***I Knew it Was You***. Director Richard Shepard’s chronicle of the acting career of John Cazale, perhaps best known for portraying “Fredo” in ***The Godfather*** films, infuses the viewer with a solemn respect for the work of supporting actors in large ensemble films.

My favorite film in the US Dramatic category was ***Adam***, a beautiful love story of a young man with Asperger’s syndrome who falls in love with his beautiful upstairs neighbor. It would be impossible for me to choose a favorite in the US Documentary competition. There were simply too many amazing films. ***Over the Hills and Far Away*** gets my vote for “most uplifiting” documentary. ***Boy Interrupted*** gets the nod for “most courageous” documentary, and ***The Cove*** wins my top honor for “most important” documentary.

So many great films, and not enough time to see them all — that’s my feeling about Sundance. The essence of film festival is the mission of the Sundance Institute — to further the career of emerging artists working in the medium of film. One of the greatest things about Sundance is the unparalleled access the festival offers to these artists and the subjects of their films. One of my most memorable experiences of Sundance 2009 was meeting the couple portrayed in ***Over the Hills*** who were struggling with their son’s autism and decided to travel to the other side of the world to seek a non-traditional “cure” in the mountains of Mongolia.

Rupert and Kristin Isaacson and Michel Orion Scott, the film’s director, could not have been any more gracious or kind when I told them their film was one of my favorites at this year’s festival. When I ran into the couple at the Awards Night party, they embraced me like a member of the family. The human element is the key to Sundance’s success. The film festival will forever represent one of the great turning points in my life, and I pledge my undying loyalty to the festival’s mission. My greatest hope is that someday, I will participate in the festival as a filmmaker. I can think of no better way to show my gratitude for all the film festival has done for me than by contributing to the Sundance panoply.

Here’s the ending to the story. Eventually, I rose from my living room chair on that wintry January night, made a quick dinner and went to bed. The next day, I finally realized how everything had fallen into place. In November 1998, I decided to head out West in my used VW, with $250 to my name. Somehow, I managed to make it to Salt Lake City before my limited funds ran out. I slept on the floor of my friend, Virgil’s apartment that first night in Utah. The next day, I landed a job with a property management company in Park City. By the end of the week, I had found a place to live, and not just any place. For $425 a month, I rented a hand-built log cabin on the edge of the Uinta National Forest. It was heaven. I had my share of mishaps, including an accident the first Sunday of the 1999 festival, which caused me to miss my shift. While driving to work in a blizzard, I hit a patch of ice and would up backwards in a snowdrift. The total cost of my accident: $35. Due to my AAA membership and a lot of good fortune, I managed to keep my head above water that winter.

Getting on the Sundance Film Festival as a volunteer came about as the result of a series of incredibly fortunate events. Each day in Utah offered a new life lesson, and the course of my life was changed forever during that time. Eventually, I moved back to L.A. in the spring of 1999 and left the idyllic Utah wilderness. This year, to celebrate the 10-year anniversary of my first Sundance experience, I made a conscious effort to say “thank you” a thousand times a day throughout my glorious 12-day adventure. Those expressions of gratitude were directed to the universe and the power that brought me to a small ski resort town high up in the Rocky Mountains 10 years ago, and taught me that the possibilities of my life are limitless.