There are plenty of reasons to not enjoy the cinematic experience in January. In a normal year, it was a time when studios would dump the absolute worst of their catalog. With December marking the cut-off date for most prestigious awards qualification dates, there are absolutely no stakes for a movie here. For the sake of reference, does anyone remember what came out in January 2020? The first movie was The Grudge (2020) remake, and I assure you that’s probably best forgotten. Outside of theatrical expansions and the coveted nominations, there’s absolutely nothing *new* to get excited about. It’s mostly finally getting around to the cool stuff from limited release or just existing under the radar.
However, if you ask me one of the greatest things to ever happen to movie culture in January was Robert Redford’s flagship Sundance Film Festival. As the premier source for independently made cinema, I think it’s exciting to go in every year and wonder who the next big thing will be. Whether you want to admit it or not, it sometimes becomes a make or break institution where a memorable screen and Q&A can lead to a profound career. Don’t believe me? Talk to filmmakers ranging from Steven Soderbergh to Kevin Smith or even Damien Chazelle and Christopher Nolan. Even then, that’s only a microcosm of the names who’ve made their stamp up in Park City, Utah.
It helps that my general interests tend to favor independent voices. To me, it’s where the most authentic form of art usually lies. Without derailing too much, a studio film is too compromised, built on four-quadrant appeal to ever be truly singular or authentic. When you’re watching a stereotypical Sundance movie, you’re guaranteed to get something more passionate. This is because it’s often made solely out of passion, of hope anyone outside of their immediate friend group will see it. Part of it is that they’re young and hungry, financing the movie in any way possible. It’s also because it’s a reflection of a voice that is often concerned about a specific experience, of needing to express themselves in very specific ways.
For better or worse, everyone is accepted entry given certain criteria. A good byline will likely draw in audiences, ranging from critics bussed in from around the country to local Utahans taking in a movie after skiing all day. It’s an eclectic place to be and I love the idea of hearing about films like CODA (2021), or “children of deaf adults,” and realizing that ambitious titles like this could only really exist at Sundance. Sure, it could also play at no-name local festivals, but Sundance is one that promises that if you know how to strike lightning, draw in enough attention, there’s a good chance that this could lead to a more substantial career.
There is the risk that your film completely bombs, or if you’re a well-known actor like Zach Braff considered disingenuous. In some cases, a film will garner so much controversy that its initial buzz doesn’t translate, such as Nathan Parker’s Birth of a Nation (2015). There is no guarantee that a film will do well at all outside of that brief window, but there’s excitement nonetheless. As sad as it is that even winning the awards, like Patti Cake$ (2017), won’t promise longevity. If anything, there’s codependency on the journalists to spread the good words. While critics generally get backlash for “being useless,” I think festivals like Sundance need them solely because, without them, some films would flounder. For instance, I wouldn’t know about God Help the Girl, The Witch (2015), or Me and Earl and the Dying Girl (2015) if it wasn’t for David Ehrlich’s months of praise.
In general, I also see it as one of the most accessible film festivals in any calendar year. As much as I would love to go to Cannes or Toronto International Film Festival, those are much more prestigious and often clouded in the importance of a looming awards season. For Sundance, there’s often a chance that what you’re seeing won’t matter in three months. Maybe it picks up a Spirit Award nomination, but the general public isn’t going to be impressed that you saw The Foxy Merkins (2014). I should know because one of the best times of my life as a film critic was attending the festival in 2014.
To be completely honest, I was such a beginner that I didn’t even think to book housing until I had to stay in a cheap motel in Salt Lake City… at the bottom of the mountain. Because of that, I was often robbed of an extra two hours that I could’ve spent seeing movies, renting a car that I had to heat up every morning just to see out the window. I lived and learned, but I loved the journey of discovering this wondrous place and being validated by the people who gave me the badge. Because of them, I was allowed to choose between four or five features hourly that were screened at a nearby theater. We stood in a heated tent, the volunteers guiding us to the interwoven lines. I often got there early simply because I always feared getting left out. Random people I met there suggested that they just showed up closer to show time, but hey… what else am I going to do in Park City but go to the grocery store or eat at Burger King?
Some of my personal regrets regarding this visit were that I was not prepared on Day One. Due to a faulty GPS, I had to stop by a local Best Buy to get new chargers. I missed the opening night movie, which was one of the few major hits. You’ve probably heard of it: Whiplash (2014). Yes, this was a year where Sundance actually made it a whole calendar year to Oscars. This was also the year of Boyhood (2014) and The Babadook (2014). I didn’t see any of them. I wasn’t a very good planner. In fact, the first movie I saw there was Only Lovers Left Alive (2014) solely because I needed to meet up with my boss, the owner of the now-defunct Cinema Beach, to talk a few things over.
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| Appropriate Behavior |
I definitely believe that had I another chance to go, I would probably be more organized. I’d actually put in the effort because, to be totally honest, this was an incredible year for independent cinema. Ones that I later saw that I’d consider amazing included Kumiko the Treasure Hunter (2014), Appropriate Behavior (2014), A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night (2014), Ida (2014), The Double (2014), and Listen Up Philip (2014). Had I been smarter, I would’ve figured out to see what I could before I headed back to Long Beach, CA. Instead, I got my own experience which I’ll say was worthwhile nonetheless.
If I had to classify the different movies I saw based on my general experiences with them, they would go a little something like this. My naïve self believed that I wanted to see indie movies that I stood a strong chance of never seeing again. I didn’t want to go for ones that I thought would be playing at local venues, which is how I ended up seeing things like The Foxy Merkins (mixed), The Sleepwalker (2014) (mixed), and Blind (2014) (great). It’s true that I went to the premiere of Camp X-Ray (2014) (good) in large part because I was a Kristen Stewart fan, but that was my one exception. It was the moment where I felt like I was part of a communal experience at Sundance, like we were all anticipating this movie.
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| Dear White People |
The best payoff for me personally came with Dear White People (2014). Nowadays, most people will immediately recognize the Netflix series. To reflect my judgment skills, I chose it solely on the title and came out totally impressed. I still consider Justin Simien to have a very promising future and I am glad that Tessa Thompson’s career has taken off. To me, this was MY Sundance moment, my big discovery. I talked to Matt Patches later and we agreed that it was one of those movies that seemed to rarely be played at the festival. I was so moved by the humor and characters, telling a story that felt vital (and honestly a few years ahead of modern conversations). Of everything I saw, this was what made it worthwhile.
Oh sure, I saw other enjoyable movies like Love Is Strange (2014). I also have a brochure for Blind that I still find very striking and loved how it used grassroots promotion. To me, it felt like we were in on the ground floor of the next big thing every time out. I’d listen to people in line discuss their various experiences. I once was turned off of seeing Locke (2014) solely because someone a row over claimed she wasn’t in the wrong mood for it. On the flip side, I decided not to see Obvious Child (2014) because it was getting late and I had to drive back eventually. I’m not always making the best decisions, apparently.
Like the festival, it was my own form of independence and I got to see what that environment was like. For those who are truly passionate about film, I would suggest trying to go at least once in your life. I won’t promise that you’ll see a great work of art – I don’t even know if Blind ever came out – but if you allow yourself to walk into random screenings, you may be delighted by what you discover. As you can tell, there’s so much that I should’ve ended up seeing instead, but that’s only because my future self fell in love in love with those titles, still following those auteurs diligently.
To me, this is where the future of cinema lies. After Whiplash, Chazelle went on to become the youngest Best Director winner in Oscar history only three years later. Every year has these underdog stories that you can’t help but root for, and I personally love flying back home with those stories, having met like-minded individuals, and having so much to share with people back home. I am curious to know what will become a hit, and I love that I get to sit on them, sharing potential favorites down the line.
I am by no means a strategist. I can’t tell you what will become a hit in a few months. Outside of established titles like Boyhood, I couldn’t even promise what was there would even spark interest. It’s what I look for every year, once again reaching a level of anonymity that no other festival has been able to achieve. It’s beautiful how so many unique voices are allowed to create art that personally expresses their vision of the world. Sometimes you get masterful pieces like Dear White People. Others you get The Sleepwalker, which good on Christopher Abbott for continually being great but I can’t even recall what that movie’s about.
So to those who just experienced Sundance for the first time this past week, I am excited to read your reports, marking my calendar with titles to look forward to. Even if this qualifies as the weirdest formatting for the festival, I like to think that it at least provided a nice sense of familiarity and balance to our film critic minds. I wish that I could’ve gone, but I’m in school and I have personal matters that likely should take precedence. Still, I will always have fond memories of walking around Park Slope, passing the ski bums on the way to the theater. No place brings with it the sense of discovery quite like Sundance, and I will always be grateful for that.
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