We saw Bob again at the premiere of "Sugar Town". There's nothing like a world premiere in a huge cinema, with all stars present. It doesn't matter how good the film is. What matters is that Rosanna Arquette is on stage and Tim Roth is in the audience- Yes, in between cocktails parties, lunches and private condo parties with Tori Spelling- we did manage to take in a few films.
My favourite- "Sex - The Annabel Chong Story". Now this one isn't likely to show up at a cinema near you. It's a documentary outlining the story of Annabel Chong- an LA art student who slept with men in hours, in order to a) break a world record, and b) prove some ideas on sexual liberation. Amazing documentary, outlining why she did it, how she did, and the consequences of doing it. And the beauty of Sundance is that you also get to schmooze with the director at cocktail parties afterwards. Inside goss is that Annabel is now directing porn. Brilliant career move. An inspiration to women everywhere.
And if the queues for Sundance films were too long- there were a dozen other festivals screening in back rooms all over town. In blatant opposition runs the strictly non-commercial Slamdance Festival. We sneaked in and caught some film gems at a much cheaper price. And for those who didn't make Slamdance, there was Slamdunk. Or there's Slumdance, or Nodance- or if it's the porn industry you want, check out Lapdance- All running concurrently in little Park City, pushing up the prices, packing out the pubs and adding to the buzz. You gotta love it.
And we did. All ten days of it. Until the signs came down, the busses left, and those who broke legs trying to ski whilst talking on cell phones limped home to have their casts removed.
* * *
We took the desert route back- Through the mystical canyons of Zion and Bryce- Kinda places where strange rock formations rise out of the sand, and the ghosts of past cowboys eternally search for one more Marlboro.
We turned on the spooky music and drove- rocks gave way to small towns, became long straight roads, reached up to big wide skies.
(Actually you can try this at home too- Take half a tab- any more and you'll never sit still, then play "The Planet of the Apes" sound track album really loud whilst a straight friend drives you slowly through small rural communities. Guaranteed to make you believe that Mars invaders have taken over a town near you.)
A full on crazy people trip like Sundance ought to be followed by a surreal desert jaunt. Helped to put the world back in perspective. Until we hit Hollywood again.
It was back to business. Sundance had given us a break, and we had to make it work for us. We had a pile of business cards and a list of invitations. We decided to start at the top.
The last time I visited Universal Studios I was a paying tourist pretending to be scared of the big plastic shark. This time I went in the front gate, got a pass with my name on it, and the use of a little white golf cart. (Well- ok, the Illustrator drove us, but the golf carts were available-). Suddenly we were serious filmmakers, The Director and the Producer- approaching that distant hacienda of twentieth century success- the big man's place- Steven Speilberg's office. As we waited in the foyer we were offered not only tea, coffee or coke, but even ice-cream- I knew this guy was special.
OK- so we didn't actually meet Steven. He was in the private cinema watching rushes with Billy-Bob. But we did spend half an hour with the Head of Creative Development, who'd seen "Venus Blue" at Sundance. We pitched him our feature, he pitched us several of his features. We all agreed to do some reading and talk again soon. The connection was made.
And then we were off to another meeting at another studio, another lunch, another door opened. And it seemed as if life would forever be marked in terms of before and after Sundance.
* * *
That night we hung out at the Dresden - as you do when you're in LA. The cool lounge sounds of Marty and Elaine grooving out the joint. We clapped loud and they gave us a special rendition of "Staying Alive", complete with Elaine's five minute funky keyboard addition.
We were joined by good friends and friends of friends- It's that kind of a place. We drank, we sang, we shared Sundance stories. And as the bar closed up a particularly charming Producer offered us a ride home in his convertible. Turns out he bought it off Ridley Scott's son just a few weeks back - and this Thunderbird was the actual picture car from "Thelma and Louise". No kidding. Our journey was complete. Mythology had risen up and told us we were on the right track. Driving down Hollywood Boulevard at 2am in Thelma and Louise's convertible- and yes, we're gonna keep on driving too.
