Five years ago, in a Q & A with Interview Magazine, one of independent film’s most powerful allies, Robert Redford, had this to say when asked if his brainchild, the Sundance Film Festival, had gone “Hollywood”: “The fact is that we have simply created the worst possible conditions to have a festival, and that’s why I like it. Because it brings the good people in and creates a kind of bonding that you couldn’t get at an ultra high-service resort. If we did move, we’d all say, ‘Hey, remember how it was when we had to be resourceful?’”

No disrespect to Bob, but reflections on Sundance finagling should start January 21, 2002—the morning after the festival ends and the Winter Olympics begins its march into Park City. Although the events are weeks apart, the shock of confronting a force more powerful than Sundance first rocked the indie world at last year’s festival. Howls of “How dare they?” echoed from every Main Street beer tap upon learning that the dates of Sundance would be pushed up 10 full days to avert a conflict with Juan Antonio Samaranch (President of the International Olympic Committee) and his credit card-toting minions.

According to Shawn Stinson, the Park City Chamber & Visitors Bureau’s Director of Communications, the Sundance-initiated change eased the Olympics “build-out”—the construction of the massive tents/ structures/trailers that will be used for Olympic officials and media. The decision also helped to complete the “look” of the Games, with banners, decorations, camera set-ups, etc. Myles Rademan, Public Affairs Director for Park City Municipal, says that “Park City will look the same as it always does, except that we have outlined the historic buildings on Main Street in lights, which should make for a more picturesque and ‘media-genic’ atmosphere.”

Media-genic? To a visiting journalist that smacks of the old chaos theory, i.e. the amount of people trying to get into a Sundance screening is always half the amount of chaos going on outside the venue. To put it bluntly: Sundance plus the Olympics, no matter how far apart the two events occur, invites chaos to the extreme.

And if the logistical headaches of having two large international events in the same tiny frozen town weren’t enough, repercussions from the day a bunch of psychotic murderers sucker-punched the American psyche are now factored into the mix. Sundance security will be cranked to a level more typical of your local urban high school than a film fest, although Sundance co-director Nicole Guillemet insists “the festival has no plans to search bags or install metal detectors.” Still, because of the Olympics and September 11th, the spectre of “da man” will be all over Park City this year. Whether it’s added private security firms hired by Sundance on the Olympic Committee’s advice, or a bunch of traffic drones working double shifts, the odds of having a hassle-free Park City experience are pretty low. If Redford and company really wanted a film festival to be held in the “worst possible conditions,” Sundance 2002 will probably fit the bill.

“The perception this year,” notes Guillemet, “may be that everything is more congested because there will be Olympic trailers and crews all over the parking lot across from the festival’s headquarters. But we’ve had three years to prepare for the Olympics. We’ve had many meetings with their logistics team, which convinced us to re-route shuttle buses away from the Olympic delivery areas, enhance all our transportation capacities, move up the festival dates so there would be no chance of overlap with the athletes and media, and, of course, raise security to another level.”

Guillemet notes that “enhanced security” for Sundance 2002 will include hiring of special police services and crowd control specialists and running the Sundance logistics team through training sessions with some old cronies of the IOC—namely the FBI and the U.S. Secret Service. Still, the image of a Sundance volunteer in full camouflage, poking through giveaway bags with the muzzle of an AK-47 seems a tad unwarranted. Guillemet, who has been involved with the festival since 1985, thinks the events of September 11th, not the Olympics, will have a more profound impact on the snowy indie cocoon that is Park City.

“In a typical year, our attendance runs about 15,000 out-of-state and 5,000 to 6,000 from Salt Lake City,” she adds. “The Olympics won’t change that, because it’s a different crowd. But there will be fewer representatives from each film company attending because of September 11th and the down economy. Of course, the industry people who do come are really looking to Sundance to recapture the spirit of watching, talking about and buying films that has suffered since September 11th.”

Organizers are also gratified that sponsorship efforts for Sundance 2002 haven’t been hurt by 9-11 or the Olympic trial balloon floating over the Wasatch mountains toward Park City. As Guillemet notes: “We’ve been able to retain all of our top-level sponsors.”

One can argue that September 11th, the Olympics and Sundance are all politically driven events. But even the most bitter indie moviemaker would be hard-pressed to cite Geoffrey Gilmore and team as likely targets for global political extremism. What remains, then, is a bunch of speculation about how the festival will change in 2002.

Me, I’ve got it all figured out. In one of those rare moments leading up to Sundance when I actually slept, I had a dream inspired by the upcoming Sundance vs. Olympics grudge match. I was at the 2022 festival. Redford still looked fabulous in his mid-80s, co-starring opposite Brad Pitt in a Christmas blockbuster. Fest organizers had buckled under external pressure and moved Sundance to Maui or Miami or some warm, dry, bikini-friendly place. In a crowd of journalists, moviemakers, agents, managers, producers, screenwriters, casting directors and plain ol’ film fans all waiting for a shuttle bus (what else?), someone scampered up on a booted rental car and shouted: “remember back in 2002 when those heathens, the Olympics, tried to take over Sundance? What the heck were NBC, the IOC and a bunch of amateurs competing purely for the love of sport thinking? We all know they really came for our movies, not the snow. The Olympics are every four years. Sundance is forever!”

When the cacophony died down and the shuttle bus finally arrived (too crowded to actually ride, of course), a remarkable thing happened. Gold, silver and bronze medals started falling from the sky. Each shiny sphere was stamped with the words: Admit One: Dramatic Competition, Eccles Theater.

That was when I woke up with a big grin on my face, my world still blissfully intact. Taking over a tiny ski town for 10 days via cell phones, laptops, DV cams, photo ID cards and many, many cups of espresso is best left to the professionals. Not a bunch of amateurs, if you know what I mean. MM