The Sundance Film Festival ran from Jan. 21-31; here, merely eight days later, is a summary of all the Sundance-related content I produced, gathered into one handy location.

My daily diary entries are gathered into one feature article here: Eric D. Snider’s 2010 Sundance Film Festival Diary

Here are my reviews, all currently hosted either at Film.com or Cinematical:

Blue Valentine B
Buried B
Cyrus A-
Enter the Void B+
Four Lions A-
The Freebie B+
Frozen B-
Please Give B
The Runaways C
Splice B+

Here’s a wrap-up piece I wrote for Cinematical: 10 Sundance Films to Watch For

For some reason, a reporter from Salt Lake City’s Deseret News wrote a profile piece about me that ran during the festival: Former BYU humorist returns as a Sundance film critic

David Chen of Slashfilm is a prolific and highly skilled podcaster, to the extent that he can sometimes record a couple episodes while you thought he was just having lunch. I appeared in three of his on-the-fly reports at Sundance:

We meet for the first time (note the scholarly photo).
We talk about the Sundance films I didn’t like.
We talk about public screenings vs. press screenings.

Finally, if you click the “Sundance Film Festival” link under the “Movie Reviews” tab at the top of EricDSnider.com, you’ll see where additional reviews will appear as they are produced.

Howdy, y’all! I say that because I’m in Oxford, Miss., which is in the South, and “howdy y’all” is a thing that people in the South say. Let me know if I’m over-explaining myself.

I’m here (for the third year!) for the Oxford Film Festival, serving as a juror in the short-film competition. I am a rural juror. The people here are incredibly nice, and the food — my goodness, the food. At SOME film festivals the only place to eat is Burger King. At Oxford, most of your food needs are taken care of by the festival-sponsored parties, where there is an abundance of meats and cheeses and spreads and sauces and dips and crackers and breads and desserts, all fresh-made by local artisans and caterers in enchanted kitchens and served on magical platters by fairy elves. The number one cause of death in Oxford is food coma.

Anyway, this week’s movies. Whatever. “From Paris with Love” (review at Cinematical) is an enjoyably insane action caper starring an unhinged John Travolta and a (for some reason) whiny-American-accented Jonathan Rhys Meyers as spies going after drug dealers in France. It was directed by the guy who made “District B13″ and “Taken,” and produced by Luc Besson, the crazy French guy who makes crazy French things.

“Frozen” (review at Cinematical) played at Sundance and is now opening on about a hundred screens nationwide, including many in Utah, where it was filmed. It’s about a trio of skiers who get stuck on the chair lift after closing time, whereupon many terrible events befall them.

The other new wide release is “Dear John,” based on a novel by Nicholas Sparks. The screening was the same time as “From Paris with Love,” and I made an executive decision not to see “Dear John.”

There is some chance that I will still catch “Dear John,” along with last week’s “Edge of Darkness” and “When in Rome.” I did see “Legion” right after Sundance, but haven’t had time to write my review yet due to other pressing matters (i.e., the ones that pay money). Either I will review those films, or I won’t. I can promise that.

To sign up for the “In the Dark” e-zine, which brings you all the new movie reviews, DVD releases, and other pertinent info in one handy weekly e-mail, visit this page.

Want to see Macaulay Culkin turn into a cartoon and be harassed by sentient hardcover books? It’s actually not as good as it sounds. It’s “The Pagemaster,” and it’s the subject of this week’s edition of Eric’s Bad Movies at Film.com.

Hey, remember “Easy Rider”? That movie’s pretty highly regarded. But what’s the big deal? My new-ish column, What’s the Big Deal?, sets out to answer that very question this week.

Day 7 (Wednesday, Jan. 27)

Travis and Rudie, the two fellows from Criterion Cast, left Monday, having loved their first Sundance experience. They were replaced at the condo by three guys from Paste Magazine. You will notice that three is more than two (thanks again, math!), and that we were already at capacity. As a consequence, two of the We Are Movie Geeks guys have had to share a bed. This is none of my concern. I have my own bed. I just wanted to mention it. The Paste guys seem cool. At least I’m not the oldest person in the house anymore.

Tomorrow is the last day of press screenings, and there are only two slots, 9 a.m. and 11:30 a.m., so today is the last full day. The festival doesn’t conclude until Sunday, though, and members of the press are allowed to request tickets to public screenings, one a day during the first few days of the fest, then two a day after that, and apparently four a day during the final weekend. I have requested zero. My policy this year was that if a movie didn’t have a press screening that I could attend, then your mom. Too much hassle: request the ticket, hope they can fill the request, return to HQ to pick up the ticket, go to the venue at the appropriate time, stand in line, find a seat, leave bag at seat while you go to the bathroom, wait in line at bathroom, use bathroom, look at snack bar options, marvel at extreme prices, wish you’d remembered to bring snacks to smuggle into theater, wait for movie to start (public screenings: always late), watch movie, shuffle out with massive audience afterward, wait for shuttle bus, go to next venue. BLEH. Press screenings are so much easier. No press screening? Your mom.

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Day 6 (Tuesday, Jan. 26)

My experience sharing a one-bathroom condo with five other guys has so far been surprisingly hassle-free. What’s more, my snoring, which was once legendary, has reportedly failed to bother anyone. And believe me, I’ve asked. I’m very self-conscious about it. I even brought spare earplugs for anyone who needs them, and have authorized all interested parties to do whatever it takes to silence me if I disrupt their sleep. One time I shared a room with someone who made me stop snoring by plugging my nose. It also made me stop breathing, but that was none of his concern.

Anyway, the condo has been fine, except for one thing, which is probably an obvious thing, which is that when six men share a small living space for six days it becomes — in terms of debris, leftovers, and general untidiness — a scene of unspeakable horror. I am not a clean freak, but I am generally neat and uncluttered. My cinematic brethren do not share this tendency, or at least they don’t when they are renting a condo. Perhaps their own homes are immaculate. (I am pretending to give them the benefit of the doubt.) We have a lady girl female woman person staying with us, too, but so far the fabled “woman’s touch” has had no impact on the situation. Indeed, since she has her own bedroom, we’ve barely seen her. When we have, it has been so that she could share stories with us that all involve referring to celebrities by their first names and pretending to be very good friends with them. This is amusing, but it doesn’t make things cleaner. (That’s a real photo that someone took of the tabletop, by the way. And that photo was taken three days ago.)

I began the day by heading to festival headquarters at the Marriott, where I needed to pick up a few press kits. HQ used to have a sizable lounge area for journalists, with plenty of tables and chairs and complimentary soft drinks, but not any more. Last year the complimentary soft drinks were reduced from Coke and Pepsi to Shasta; now the recession has taken its toll by removing the lounge altogether. I assume money is also the reason there were no press screenings on opening night, and why the press screenings end Thursday this year instead of Friday. And I know money is the reason they moved all the press screenings to Holiday Village instead of the Yarrow: Now the public screenings that used to be at Holiday Village can be held at the Yarrow, which is twice the size and thus represents twice the possible income in ticket sales. Since Sundance is a not-for-profit organization, things like that matter.

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Day 5 (Monday, Jan. 25)

The snow stopped falling yesterday, and my nose stopped bleeding, so I guess Mother Nature and I have reached détente, at least until I offend her again, which is probably imminent, what with her being an odious slattern.

I was looking forward to today’s first film, “Cyrus,” written and directed by the Duplass brothers, Mark and Jay. Their other films, “The Puffy Chair” and “Baghead,” were smart, funny little gems, and this was what you might call their Hollywood debut: a real budget, with recognizable actors! John C. Reilly, Marisa Tomei, Jonah Hill, Catherine Keener!

I was not disappointed. What do you know, it’s another very smart and very funny comedy, and it has heart, too. The opening scenes establishing Reilly’s character as a pathetic but lovable loser reach wonderful heights of awkwardness.

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Day 4 (Sunday, Jan. 24)

I got another nosebleed today. Whenever I get a nosebleed I think I have cancer or a brain tumor, because in movies it’s always a surprise nosebleed that first alerts a character to such a condition. I’ve made a note to worry more about this when I get home.

You’ve probably been concerned about what I’m eating. Burger King is still the only fast food place within walking distance of the Yarrow and Holiday Village, unless you count the Quiznos, which I don’t, because Quiznos, eh. I had a dream a couple weeks ago that a Subway had opened next to Burger King. I literally dreamed of having more nearby food options.

A couple years ago, a place that used to be a burrito place turned into a place with pizza and sandwiches, and there was much rejoicing. We loved Used To Be A Burrito Place, as it was known. But then last year it was gone, its storefront empty, and there was sadness. This year it has reemerged as a Mexican place, and it’s fairly bueno. My Film.com editor, Laremy, and I had dinner there last night, and then he and I had lunch there today with Neil from Film School Rejects. So thumbs up for Used To Be A Pizza Place That Used To Be A Burrito Place.

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Day 3 (Saturday, Jan. 23)

The weather continued to be terrible today, but at least I got to see a movie about a monster baby. That balances the scales considerably.

But first we have to talk about “Douchebag.” This derogatory term has come into more common usage in the last few years, so it was probably inevitable that someday it would be a movie title. I can think of about a dozen Sundance movies I’ve seen that could have been called “Douchebag”; I guess it’s only surprising that no one used it sooner.

Unfortunately, the movie peaks at its title. It’s about a guy who’s about to get married who is forced to reconcile with his estranged brother. The man referenced in the title is a jerk, but he’s not really a douchebag, per se. Not frat-ish enough. Anyway, whatever he is, the movie is lazy and half-baked. In fact, at 70 minutes long, it’s barely a movie. It’s more like the outline for a movie, waiting for someone to fill in the blanks. Such a waste of a good title. (In Italy, the film will be called “Baggaduccio.”)

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Day 2 (Friday, Jan. 22)

Another thing that is different about Sundance this year is that it won’t stop snowing. We’re used to having a lot of snow on the ground, but there’s usually no new snowfall during the festival, apart from maybe one or two brief incidents where Mother Nature accidentally lets some out. But not this year! This year Mother Nature, that rancid trollop, has seen fit to plague us with unceasing snowfall, vexing walkers and drivers alike. And bear in mind that no one around here is very good at driving to begin with.

I left the condominiums — or, as the word is spelled on the sign outside, “condominiuims” — early enough to catch a 9:30 a.m. screening of “Get Low,” starring Robert Duvall as a crazy old hermit in the 1930s. He’s the kind of bearded lunatic that the local kids tell stories about. He wants to plan a funeral for himself, and the town’s mortician — played by Bill Murray — is only too happy to let him. (”Oooh, hermit money. That’s good.”) Not a great film, perhaps, but solid, with lots of good humor and gentle drama.

Weinberg had arrived safely at around 5:30 this morning, exhausted from his travails but alive and basically conscious. There was no word on whether any of his fellow passengers survived.

At 1:30 was a film that many people were looking forward to, in the same way that when you have food poisoning you look forward to throwing up: it will be unpleasant while it’s happening, but you’ll be glad you did it. It was “Enter the Void,” written and directed by Gaspar Noé, whose graphically sexual and horrifically violent “Irreversible” traumatized Sundance audiences — not an easily traumatized group — in 2003. The printed film guide for the festival actually warns about the content of “Enter the Void,” which is nice; usually they just let it surprise you.

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Day 1 (Thursday, Jan. 21)

Let us hie to Utah’s icy climes and the 2010 Sundance Film Festival, held each January in the frozen, picturesque wasteland of Park City and founded by a friend of Paul Newman’s named Robert Redford. This is one of the world’s premier festivals, and I’ve been lucky enough to cover it every year since 2000, when I was a young lad of 25. Now I am an old lad of 35, and while the festival has evolved in that time, one thing has remained constant: It is still very cold here in January. My efforts to increase global warming through massive overuse of styrofoam have been futile.

For the members of the press, a couple of changes at this year’s festival were evident immediately. There were no opening-night press screenings, for one thing, leaving those of us who couldn’t get into the public screening (i.e., most of us) with nothing to do, alone and unsupervised in Park City. The other change is that our beloved Yarrow Hotel, once home to two of the press screening rooms, is now home to zero of them. They’re using the space for public screenings now, and all the press screenings are across the parking lot at the Holiday Village, which is an actual movie theater, with actual movie theater seats and hilariously overpriced popcorn.

This year I’m staying at a rented condo with five other movie-website people, all of them strangers to me. It’s just like MTV’s “The Real World,” only fatter. From the aptly named site We Are Movie Geeks there’s Scott, A.J., and Jeremy. From Criterion Cast we have Travis and Rudie. Then there’s me, from all the places I’m from. Oh, and we have a seventh cast member, a female lady girl woman, who isn’t a critic or blogger but just wanted to come to Sundance to go to parties and movies and stuff. Since she’s of the opposite gender from the rest of us, she gets her own room. Scott and Jeremy are on the living room couches, and the other four of us are in bunk beds in the second bedroom. Long-time readers may recall that I’m something of a snore monger. Will sharing a room with three other people lead to controversy or murder? Find out!

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