Thanks to the haters, uglies and tortured souls who’ve cheered my Sundance ’19 announcement. One thing I’ve never done and never will do is applaud a journalist’s political difficulty or misfortune, but there are some who revel in such distractions. And they all have their bathroom-mirror reflections to consider each night. Last January I covered Sundance like everyone else — reviews of Ethan Hawke‘s Blaze, David Wain‘s A Futile and Stupid Gesture and Paul Dano‘s Wildlife, a chat with Jonah Hill about Gus Van Sant‘s Don’t Worry, He Won’t Get Far On Foot, a riff about Marina Zenovich‘s Robin Williams: Come Inside My Mind, a pan of Blindspotting, a mostly positive review of Amy Scott’s Hal Ashby doc, etc. Sundance is a job, a task, a 10-day march…something you try to do as best you can. And then you move on.
