Sundance, like most of life, is all about who you know. If you don’t know people—and, more to the point, the right people—it can be a maddening experience.
Luckily, we know some of the right people, so our snowglobe bubble isn’t as lonely as it might otherwise be. Jan. 20 involved screenings of “Emanuel and the Truth about Fishes” (look for our interview with star Kaya Scodelario soon) and the Daniel-Radcliffe-having-gay-sex movie “Kill Your Darlings,” which is much more interesting, jazzy, and smart than that joke logline would indicate.
But screenings and interviews are only part of the working journalist’s job—there are also parties to attend. And, you know, things like picking up press credentials, trying not to get lost, and eating. In the interest of total disclosure, we have so far only succeeded at one of those three things.
We did manage to snag some delicious hors d’ouevres and a gin and tonic at Columbia University’s party for its alumni involved in Sundance, and then went out for a Thai dinner with actor Anna Margaret Hollyman and director Trevor Anderson, where we learned that it is against the law in the state of Utah for a waiter to serve you an alcoholic beverage if your empty glass is still sitting on the table. Sundance, it’s not just fun and films. It’s also a learning experience!
After dinner we all trudged over to the premiere party for Lynn Shelton’s “Touchy Feely,” where the booze and appetizers flowed freely. Unwilling to call it a night without trying to get into the party for James Franco’s “Interior. Leather Bar.,” we gamely stood in line for what felt like 45 minutes but was probably only 20 (time is different at this altitude) before leaving to wander down Main Street like college students, looking for a party. “Call it quits,” an Australian woman in heels said smugly as she staggered past. “Everything’s going to close in half an hour anyway.” That she was right didn’t make it any less annoying.
After that defeat, we took a cab back to our hotel. Actually, we tried to take two cabs before finding a driver who wasn’t quoting an outrageously inflated fare. But we did manage to make it back to our room, so maybe we won’t die in a snowbank after all.