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.

I allowed for the possibility of hitting some public screenings if there was something I was DYING to see and a press screening wasn’t an option. But as it turns out, nothing fell into that category for me this year. I saw just about everything I wanted to; the ones I missed were more of the, “Eh, I’ll catch it when it comes to theaters” variety.

There was a bit of a panic at the Yarrow Hotel today — or, rather, apparently there was a panic last night. On the door of the hotel’s bar was a sign that read: “THERE WILL BE NO ALCOHOL SOLD UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE SORRY FOR THE INCONVIENCE,” which as you know is the standard misspelling of “inconvenience.” One assumes the Yarrow’s proprietors ran afoul of Utah’s liquor laws, which are notoriously easy to run afoul of.

I got to see “Blue Valentine” today, the film whose chaotic press screening on Monday led to an Italian uprising. They scheduled another one in today’s TBA slot, too late for the people who already left (including Crazy Italian Woman), but oh well. It is indeed a well-acted drama, with Ryan Gosling and Michelle Williams as a fractured married couple, and the performances are its best assets. The story and script didn’t do much for me. I also don’t care for the title. “Blue” means sad, and “Valentine” suggests love. So their love is sad right now. Well, duh. Just like “Douchebag,” I can name 10 other Sundance films that could appropriately have used this title. But this is petty of me, and I will stop complaining about it.

A film with a much better title than the terrible-titled “Blue Valentine” is “The Perfect Host,” which I saw next. It’s about a bad guy who takes a man hostage in his own home, only to find that his hostage is even crazier than he is. That is the danger with selecting hostages at random, without pre-screening them. Helen Reddy has a supporting role in the film, in honor of the fact that she is apparently still alive. Unfortunately, despite the good title, “The Perfect Host” isn’t a very good movie, going off the rails in its second half. I note that it’s based on a short film; it probably should have stayed one.

Immediately after this was a film many of us had been looking forward to, “Louis C.K.: Hilarious,” a concert film by the comedian. (If you’re not familiar, he was recently seen as Leslie’s policeman boyfriend in a few episodes of “Parks and Recreation.”) Louis C.K. is hilarious; the film’s title refers to a bit he does about how we use hyperbole so much — everything is “amazing” or “hilarious” — that the words don’t mean anything anymore. There was a good bit of laughter evident among the various members of the audience at the press screening. By which I mean we about peed ourselves.

Oh, and I saw Louis C.K. himself at Sundance headquarters yesterday, and had to say hi and tell him I think he’s funny. He’s also fairly tall, which I had not realized.

I have a friend who wrote and directed a movie that was submitted to Sundance and rejected. When I told him that Louis C.K. had a concert film in the festival, my friend said, “Oh, really? How nice. Did he turn the camera on all by himself?” You can kind of see his point. Then again, cinematic treasure or not, Louis C.K.’s film is much funnier than my friend’s. Then again, my friend’s isn’t a comedy. I don’t know what my point is.

Day 8 (Thursday, Jan. 28)

My final screening was at 11:30 a.m., “The Killer Inside Me,” which is another title that would work for a Rush Limbaugh biopic. It stars Casey Affleck as a small-town sheriff’s deputy with a dark side, that dark side being only slightly diminished by Affleck’s high-pitched, breathy whine of a speaking voice. Jessica Alba and Kate Hudson are among the actresses receiving physical abuse in the film, which Chris Brown calls the “feel-good hit of the year.”

And that was it. For me, Sundance had drawn to a close. Was it a little less hectic and bizarre than usual? Yes. That’s because I am not as young as I used to be. (But neither are you, so shut up.) Sundance has always been a marathon, not a sprint, and so it’s unwise to push yourself too much. I saw only 20 movies at the festival this year, compared to the 27-33 that I usually see. But I also enjoyed myself much more than I have in a while. I didn’t get the mid-festival burnout, nor did I wind up getting a cold, nor was I forced to contemplate whether I had really chosen the right career path, all of which are typical. I took it easy (comparatively speaking) and had a lot more fun.

There’s something else, too. While I’ve always been friendly with my fellow critics and bloggers, it really struck me this year how important that camaraderie is. It’s not that I’m close friends with all of them (although that’s true in a few cases). Mostly it just means that when we’re standing near each other in line, or sitting in a theater, or getting on the same shuttle bus, we can chat pleasantly for a few minutes. It has nothing to do with what I think of their websites, writing styles, or taste in movies. I just like THEM, as people. They’re fun to hang out with, and I always enjoy talking to them. Here’s a roll call of who I spent at least a few minutes with this year:

Old pals:
Scott Weinberg, Cinematical
Erik Childress, Cinematical
Scott Renshaw, City Weekly
James Rocchi, MSN Movies
Jeremy Mathews, The Same Dame
Shawn Levy, The Oregonian

Newer pals:
Drew McWeeny, HitFix
Neil Miller, Film School Rejects
Peter Sciretta, Slashfilm
David Chen, Slashfilm
Devin Faraci, CHUD
Laremy Legel, Film.com
Alex Billington, First Showing
Kevin Kelly, Cinematical
Kristoffer Aaron Morgan, Ain’t It Cool News
Eric Vespe, Ain’t It Cool News
Erik Davis, Cinematical
Mark Bell, Film Threat
Chris Bellamy, The Same Dame

Brand-new pals:
Brandon Lee Tenney, First Showing
Travis George, Criterion Cast
Rudie Obias, Criterion Cast
A.J. Meadows, We Are Movie Geeks
Jeremy Kirk, We Are Movie Geeks
Scott Hutcheson, We Are Movie Geeks

My apologies if I missed anyone. The point is, it’s these friends and colleagues and buddies who make the Sundance experience so enjoyable for me. Sure, the movies are usually pretty good. But I can watch good movies at home, by myself. I frequently do, in fact. But it’s not the same as seeing them in Park City, surrounded by friendly, familiar faces. Movie nerds need love too.

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