What a difference five years can make! From “Sundance Chest Fever,” posted on 1.19.15:
“Each and every year Sundance is almost nothing but a blast — a pulsing spiritual high in terms of the films, conversations, events, parties, press conferences and the generally up-with-everyone-and-everything Park City vibe. This is my 20th anniversary of attending …no, wait, the 21st. But I’d be a lying Polyanna if I said that various irritations don’t pop through all the same. Goes with the territory.
“Young guys who run around in shorts and sneakers without socks, for example. Or those absolutely awful people who work at 350 Main, the most unfriendly restaurant in town. Gangs of party people who trudge up and down Main Street. (I generally despise groups of people in any situation…’are you afraid to walk alone or with a friend? Do you need the feeling or power and protection that comes from being part of a small mob?’) The coldest, draftiest hotel lobby in the world inside the Yarrow. Townies. People who laugh too long and loudly in screenings (‘All right, it’s funny, I agree…but take it easy’). The 20-something party gah-gahs who hang out in packs in front of Tatou and Harry O’s each and every night. Groups of 20-something women who shriek and squeal in bars and cafes.
“And most of all, those amazingly vacant facial expressions on ski enthusiasts — the ultimate nowhere people of the Wasatch. Whenever I see skiiers clump onto a shuttle bus I mutter to myself, ‘The coolest festival in the country is happening right now and you guys are here to ski?'”
The title of this post is a shard of dialogue from what 1966 film?