It's been 20 years since I've been to the Sundance Film Festival. I returned in 2024 as an Esteemed Member of the Credentialed Press. Here's what has changed.
20 years ago, my songwriting partner and I made our first pilgrimage to the mountains of Park City, Utah, to experience the Sundance Film Festival. 7,000 feet above sea level, we rented a dark and secluded lodge that had terrifyng taxidermy throughout, and the snow at the time was at least 4 feet deep in the mountains. Though we were used to Chicago’s arctic blasts, we were warned by everyone to bring long johns, because the mountain cold hits differently.
Back then, there were no apps, no mobile phones, no social media, nor was there any way to easily pre-order any tickets. You had privacy, and had to stand in long lines, outside, to buy movie tickets, in the cold, on the street. The song we wrote with our band, Utah Carol, was titled “Mabel Custer,” and it was the reason we were at the festival. It appeared in the dirt bike scene of David Gordon Green's sophomore film “All The Real Girls,” which took its award-winning place among other tremendous films that catapulted into mainstream Hollywood in 2003. It was an exciting time, to be really young and really fresh in the music business. Especially because, as young artists, this was our first major foray into the film industry.
Back in '03, the year before J-Lo and Ben Affleck descended on Sundance in 2004, heading to Sundance was a unique because not many people were going to this little town in the mountain back then. Sundance was the only experience available for extremely independent non-celebrity filmmakers, directors, actors, writers, and producers. Gatekeepers, social media influencers, security, and paparazzi were non-existent. And above all, there was hardly any visible corporate presence, besides Robert Redford, who at the time was the ultimate corporate influence.
In ‘03, it was ridiculously freezing in Park City, 20 and below every day, but that did not stop us from feeling the joy, enthusiasm, and being in awe of being surrounded by starving and striving artists just like ourselves.
Sundance was a time to connect, and share, and learn, and watch movies, and to be surrounded by people that love art and acting and film. We got to meet Robert Redford in person because back then, it was safe, and everyone had privacy. All kinds of people that now are big giant superstars in Hollywood were there in 2003. I challenge you to go back and take a look at the films and filmmakers that produced and displayed their work in 2003, and you'll see where they are today, and it's a pretty big jump. The Sundance Film Festival has always been the launching pad for many in the film industry. If you can get a film in Sundance, that means you're on the way to the top.
This year though, in 2024, I Sundanced alone. My songwriting partner/husband stayed home with our children, and I flew to Sundance primarily to represent “Desire Lines,” a drama-documentary hybrid film produced by Full Spectrum Features, a non-profit organization, where I serve on the Board of Directors. The film premiered at Sundance, and it was a major victory for the writer, director, and Full Spectrum.
A few nights before the premiere of “Desire Lines,” I decided to walk up the mountain to Main Street. I was struck by how much the Festival had changed the community. Sundance is a massive corporate machine now. Corporate logos blaze all the new construction and makeshift buildings, including the people walking around with branded goodie bags and Sundance beanie hats, including me.
Coca-Cola, Chase Bank, Adobe, American Express, Hyatt, Dropbox, Google, and tons of industry associations, all hosting ticketed and exclusive private events, events that included Robert Downey Jr. and Kerry Washington. By the time it was time for me to attend the premiere of “Desire Lines,” I was already exhausted.
The film premiered at the Egyptian Theater, which is the original theater of the Festival. Totally sold out, but I had two passes: One as a board member, the other pass as an esteemed member of the credentialed press, reporting on Sundance for WVON 1690, “The Voice of The Negro” (and America.)
I was excited to have a dual responsibility. One, to hobnob as a board member for Full Spectrum Features, and two, as an observer and reporter, to learn, listen, and understand what people were interested in and what people were excited about at the 2024 Sundance Film Festival.
Onto my film review: “Desire Lines” was astonishing and eye-opening for me. I wrote about it earlier this week. It's a film about the traditional bathhouse as well as the female-to-male transformation. “Desire Lines” is highly educational, entertaining, touching, and emotional. It’s a relief to see a soft portrayal of trans people on a big screen, one that shows dignity, grace, and depth. The film, directed by Jules Rosskam, won the Sundance NEXT Special Jury Award Presented by Adobe.
The film shouldrun on PBS, or another station that respects diversity and alternative viewpoints. I won't give any spoilers away, but this film is vital to the health of America, because the American people need to understand what is changing in the trans community. Trans people are people, and they deserve to be heard and seen at every level, in every dimension.
Other films that I had an opportunity to see:
“Freaky Tales.” A very fun, raucous, and joyful violent film that is reminiscent of '70s Blaxploitation films and Akira Kurosawa's "Seven Samurai." The film works because it crosses over generations with its parallel universes of Oakland’s punk rock and hip hop communities.
“It’s What’s Inside,” a film that Netflix purchased, presents a twisted story about the selfie age, couched in a hilarious and modern twist on “The Breakfast Club,” “The Big Chill,” or “Murder On The Orient Express.”
“Pisko the Crab Child is in Love,” which also won a Special Jury Prize for Directing, is a magical, light film about a girl who is half crab and falls in love with her teacher. The film was written from song lyrics that the writer/director composed, reminding me of the levity of “Octopus's Garden” by The Beatles.
“The Heart” by Malia Anna is a very promising short film about regret and the false narratives that we are supposed to love our parents and vice versa. The question "Are you sure we have to love thy mother?" provocatively hangs over the short film.
At the end of the day, what stands out and what still works about the Sundance Film Festival is that you will always have the opportunity for chance meetings with people you've never met. You'll be standing out in the bitter cold sun of Park City, Utah, next to a person who happens to be the assistant of Hollywood’s biggest superstar, and the next thing you know, the two of you are grabbing a taco and a beer together at Don Gallo’s on Main Street, and you are working up ideas on how to collaborate on your next project.
I myself had a chance meeting with Alex Lora’s wife Erin, which turned into a full blown interview on my show “The Honest Field Guide” in the lobby of my Hyatt Place Hotel with Alex himself, the director of the Grand Jury Prize at Sundance that he had just won a few hours earlier for his film “The Masterpiece.”
Sundance exists for a reason, even amidst the barrage of corporate logos: To celebrate creative freedom and original thought. To celebrate film, joy, and diversity. To celebrate new relationships and networking. To get a job. To act and produce. To develop more business. To buy films and distribute them. Even the townies and small business owners look forward to Sundancers; they even print up special “Sundance Menus.” So what if they double the price of everything during the festival? After all, it brings almost $170 million to the local economy.
My friend and champion Erik Philbrook, Creative Director, ASCAP and I at The ASCAP Cafe with the President of ASCAP
Sundance is not an environment where you should feel intimidated or shamed or scared to talk to people. Whoever shows up at Sundance got there on a shoe and a dime for reasons of their own, and they are open to an engaging conversation that results in some kind of impact. That is the beauty of the festival, and that's one thing that hasn't changed from 20 years ago.
And that's a relief.
