The Sundance Film Festival has finished for the year; the folks longing to be stars and the folks longing to see stars have all gone home to Tuscon, Glendale and Jacksonville, eager to recount stories of close encounters with famous faces to family and unsuspecting neighbors. I remain in Salt Lake City, mainly because I live and work here.
Most critics seem to agree that this year's festival was rather lackluster-- devoid of any truly outstanding cinematic achievement destined to be remembered for years to come. Usually, there seems to be at least one film a year that offers something special: whether it be the potentiality of a break-out hit with mainstream appeal, the showcase of some new, effortless talent, or just a really good and entertaining movie (Reservoir Dogs, Supersize Me and Sex, Lies and Videotape all started out as Sundance submissions).
Sundance '08 didn't seem to offer any clear cut winners. Despite earlier rumblings of a studio buying spree (courtesy of the upcoming writers strike driven content famine), only a handful of films were purchased by major players-- some of which left bloggers and film geeks scratching their heads in confusion (Sony Picture Classics gets The Wackness?).
Don't get me wrong; there were definitely entertaining movies on display. Time Crimes was fun. I thought Pretty Bird was appropriately nutty. I was deeply moved by The Greatest Silence and with the exception of a few awful entries, I don't regret seeing a single film on my list. That being said, I can't shake the feeling that this year's program just wasn't up to snuff and that, for the most part, Sundance-goers left Park City with not a lot more than their swag-bags and Harry O's hangovers.
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