Armed with 35 pounds of publicity postcards, flyers and refrigerator magnets, I arrive in Park City, Utah.
I go directly to Sundance Film Festival headquarters and receive my filmmaker badge and festival guide. My film, “Shock Asylum,” has been assigned to Shorts Program V, described as “a group (of films) which come from minds slightly off-center.”
Each filmmaker has a mailbox. I check mine and find a note: “Dan and Paul (Paul Dinello, my nephew, stars in the film and co-directed it), saw your short and am interested in licensing it for Bravo Cable and the Independent Film Channel. Please call me in Park City. George Lentz.”
I’m shocked. I’ve done nothing, yet the three screenings are sold out and Bravo wants to buy my movie.
I thank the god Robert Redford.
Short films rarely make money. Financed by grants and personal savings, they’re made for love, for art, for credibility. In 15 years of filmmaking, on the fringes of the industry, I’ve made 10 unsponsored short films and only one–“Rock Lobster”–has made money.
I had no expectations of selling “Shock Asylum” at Sundance. My objective was to lure money people and admired directors–like David Lynch and John Waters–to see my movie and to interest them in financing the feature (a comedy set in the alleys of Chicago) that I desperately want to make.
So, the Bravo news came like a bolt from the heavens.
The first screening of my film is in the Holiday Village Theater, a multiplex taken over for the festival. I and the other filmmakers are introduced to polite applause. “Shock Asylum”–a 15-minute, black comedy about a routine psychological evaluation gone horribly awry–plays fourth of seven movies.
The audience’s response is mildly disappointing. I’ve seen it twice before with stronger audience reaction: at the Chicago Underground Film Festival and the Berlin Underground Film Festival.
With a large audience, the flaws in a film become glaring–especially when it’s a comedy. You can make excuses for jokes that don’t get laughs: The preceding dull film hurt the response; the audience is too tired or too ignorant. But the reality is they’re not laughing and the silence cuts deep.
Depressed, I call my nephew and collaborator, Paul. We console each other with the Bravo news–“At least, people that count like it.”
A collapsed ego and a blinding snowstorm make for a harrowing 30-mile drive down the twisting road from the mountains of Park City to Salt Lake City where I’m staying because it’s a lot cheaper.
A call to the Bravo guy the next morning fails to reach him. At the offices of the Sundance Channel, I happen to meet the director of acquisitions. When I tell him that I have a movie in the festival, he tells me that the Sundance Channel purchases short movies and asks me to bring a tape over.
Later, after seeing two movies, I return to the Sundance Channel and hope that lightning strikes. It does. Redford, his face as craggy as the mountains outside, shows up. I give him a “Shock Asylum” postcard and tell him I’m having fun.
He acts like he cares. “That’s what the festival’s for,” he says.
The following day, I again fail to reach the Bravo guy. Knowing that a movie deal isn’t real until there’s a signed contract, I’m now feeling insecure about Bravo.
As the makers of a short film, we are literally small in comparison to those that have made features. Sundance gives us fewer free tickets to screenings, fewer invitations to parties and receptions, and no free accommodations.
Our Friday afternoon screening is in the worst facility at the festival, the despised Yarrow II: a long, narrow hotel conference room with a tiny screen and poor sound. It’s like watching a movie on an airplane only there are no free peanuts. The response is worse than the previous screening.
For a filmmaker, there’s nothing more torturous than watching your film shown badly. Early in the festival, one director threw his body in front of the screen until a sound problem could be corrected. In a festival devoted to the filmmaker, all the screening facilities ought to be ideal. Six of the theaters are fine, two are not. A victim of its own success, Sundance has outgrown Park City.
Feeling down, we force ourselves to the Playboy Foundation reception, hoping to discover money people. We eat free food and engage in hollow, boring conversations. Alas, we learn that the Playboy Foundation only funds socially positive documentaries.
Later, I call the Bravo guy again and finally make contact. He wants to meet us after the world premiere of Kevin Smith’s “Chasing Amy”–the fourth Sundance film I’ve seen that focuses on the problems of lesbians relating to heterosexuals.
Amid the bustle of the after-movie crowd, we locate Bravo’s George Lentz, who tells us that he wants to buy “Shock Asylum.” He says he’s picking up five or six films from this festival. He also tells us the market for short films is substantially greater in Europe than the U.S., and gives us a contact in England. Trying not to sound desperate, we tell him we’ll call him after the festival.
Our Saturday screening goes great with a packed, late-night crowd at the Holiday Village Theater. The projection is perfect and the laughs are loud. Later, we watch the awards ceremony on the Sundance Channel. “Shock Asylum” doesn’t win.
In the week since our return from Sundance, Paul and I have agreed to a two-year licensing deal with Bravo, for the right to show “Shock Asylum” on Bravo and the Independent Film Channel. They’ve also expressed interest in our previous, 9-minute comedy “Beyond the Door.” We are also negotiating a sale of “Shock” to Channel 4 in England. An acquisitions manager at the Independent Film Channel said they will read our treatment for that feature comedy set in the alleys of Chicago.
For us Sundance provided prestige and opportunity to have our work seen by large audiences as well as money and press people. Despite vampiric Hollywood agents, overcrowding and poor venues, Sundance creates an oasis for thirsty filmmakers.
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Dan Dinello is a writer and filmmaker who teaches at Columbia College where he’s also co-director of the Interactive Multimedia Program. There will be a screening of “Shock Asylum” and other films by Dan and Paul Dinello at Chicago Filmmakers, 1542 W. Division St., at 7 p.m. Sunday, April 20, 773-384-5533. Tickets are $6.
