PARK CITY, UTAH—For hundreds of years*, Sundance has played host to a spate of brilliant and buzzy films, filmmakers and famous people, thanks in part to the festival’s chairman Robert Redford, the Jesus of Hollywood who each year bestows upon Utah an event where independent films can be seen, heard and felt. But for Jezebel, this is Year One, and what a year to attend.
Given the obvious climate, at this year’s Sundance there’s been added emphasis on discussions of sexual assault and women in Hollywood. On January 20, at the “Women Breaking Barriers” talk—which featured Sandra Oh, Octavia Spencer and director Reed Morano—actress Tina Lifford said, “This is a wonderful moment that’s happening right now. It is making us confront deep-seated cultural issues. It’s a paradigm shift.” Oh stated, “There is a new generation of women who have less heaviness on them and I’m sure there are lot of women in this room who have a clear creative vision and will put it out there and they inspire me tremendously.”
As ever, the movies reflect the times. Last year’s biggest and most serendipitous Sundance story was Jordan Peele’s big little horror film Get Out, which went on to break records and earned four Oscar nominations today. Midway through Sundance 2018, the most discussed pictures include: The Tale, a Jennifer Fox film about a teen’s sexual abuse that’s being touted as a film for the #MeToo era as if that’s a badge of honor; Sorry to Bother You, a trippy adventure led by Atlanta’s Lakeith Stanfield; and Eighth Grade, a classic tale of middle-school awkwardness.
The primarily white male critics in attendance here are so used to seeing dozens of films months ahead of everyone else that I fear they’ve become emotionally exhausted.
It’s still early, but Variety, in a post titled “Where Are the Masterpieces? Sorry, There Are None (Opinion),” has already declared that there’s nothing here worthy of our intense communal praise: “There doesn’t seem to be a movie people are getting high on.” The primarily white male critics in attendance here are so used to seeing dozens of films months ahead of everyone else that I fear they’ve become emotionally exhausted. Here’s a slice of conversation overheard at the screening for Reed Morano’s post-apocalyptic slow-burner (starring Peter Dinklage and Elle Fanning) I Think We’re Alone Now: