PARK CITY, UTAH — Here’s something I didn’t know until a couple of weeks ago: Anyone—can go to the Sundance Film Festival. Even if your only experience with a call sheet is from an—autodialer, or—if you don’t own a single piece of fur (the—festival’s unofficial winter weather accessory). The—closer you get to—the—tail end of Utah’s favorite highfalutin movie party, the easier it is to see what—are often—the year’s most trenchant—films. It’s still a hassle—– most tickets are reserved by industry insiders and those with the cash for top-dollar packages. But by the second weekend, some of those ticketholders have moved on, leaving room for the unwashed masses.
So sure, any—of us can get in, but that’s not so for the festival’s entrants. Three films, all documentaries, had Colorado ties at—this year’s festival. That’s both a modest fraction—of the 45 total documentaries screened, and impressive considering only about 2.5—percent of the—documentaries submitted were accepted.
While it’s tempting to tie—a Colorado bow—over the docs, the—state and category is where the similarities end. The Denver-based Exhibit A Pictures offered a crash course in Hitchcock 101 (“78/52”). Boulder’s Exposure Labs dove—deep into the world of climate change (“Chasing Coral”). “Casting JonBenet,” which—concerns the—infamous murder of the 6-year-old Boulder beauty queen,—was filmed in and funded in part by Colorado. (Director Kitty Green is Australian, and its production house is based in New York.)
But there are no hometown favorites at Sundance. That’s for the best: The—festival’s industry-laden audiences offered Colorado—filmmakers—a chance to see how—their work fared against—its weathered critical—cordon.
“Chasing Coral” faced even stiffer—competition. This year’s—festival was defined by the return of the climate change documentary, including a sequel to “An Inconvenient Truth,” the granddaddy of them all. How do you stand out?
Throughout seven—sold-out screenings, director Jeff Orlowski’s answer netted him an—.— Sundance documentary director Tabitha Jackson introduced—”Chasing Coral” as the kind—of documentary that “helps us see things we’d rather not.” More accurately, Orlowski’s film helps us see something we cannot. By showing—the recent spate of rapid coral reef death, he’s effectively taken climate change from PowerPoint slides—to the beautiful, tangible world that’s actually being threatened. In the course of weeks, we watch deep, psychedelically blue and red coral faded to literal bone white: Warming oceans essentially strip corals’ colorful flesh—off its bones which are eerily as white as our own.
It’s a nonfiction tear-jerker about—the death of the planet, and an effective one at that. The audience wept in fits throughout the film and stood to applaud it throughout its credits. A—middle-aged—gentleman, who could be overheard before the film discussing—the legitimacy of on—Donald Trump’s rise to power, punctuated the moment, standing—first during the audience Q-and-A—to tearfully thank the crew for its work.
As tragic as it is, the film is powerful precisely because it doesn’t beat you over the head with—your headstone. The narrative—pivots roughly a third of the way in to focus on Zack Rago, a young coral geek who turns from crew member to—all-out activist.
It’s one of many crucial, roll-with-the-punches—moments Orlowski capitalizes on. The documentary is as much about the odds the film faced as it is global warming. Exposure Labs—brazenly commissioned—unprecedented—(and ultimately unsuccessful) technology—to take what would be the first time-lapse footage of dying coral reefs. (As it turns out, the ocean isn’t kind to minutely positioned, water-phobic computer—networks.)
Foolhardy as it proved, the efforts—are—a—testament to Exposure Labs’ audacity, which is in abundant supply. “Ideally the film can solve climate change,” Orlowski said in response to a post-screening question on the film’s intended purpose.
Elsewhere, another Colorado documentary kept its audience—glued firmly in the cinema. After a last-minute drive (Sundance lesson:—double check what—zip code—your movie is—in), Denver-based—Exhibit A Pictures’ “78/52” turned Salt Lake City’s packed Tower Theatre into a film nerd’s dream. The doc—leaves—no shower curtain un-yanked in its fixated—look at Alfred Hitchcock’s “Psycho,” poring over its—celluloid with the meticulous glee of Hitchcock himself.
Partly through—talking head interviews with Guillermo del Toro, Jamie Lee Curtis and others (shot not at—the Stanley Hotel, as it sometimes appears, but a combination of -rendered green screens and on-location footage inside—Denver’s—), “78/52” manages to translate—filmmakers’ cinephilia to the casual fan. A painting of seeming little significance featured—in the film—is actually a piece of ; the way a knife cuts across the grain of running shower water is cause for fascinating dissection;—the number of camera set-ups and shots—used in the film’s infamous shower scene (the key to the—documentary’s—title) gives way to—deft psychoanalysis.
That—obsession does, however, spin out into absurdity on occasion. Elijah Wood is the filmmaker’s on-screen analog, cackling at the genius of showing water spiraling down a drain overlaid with the eye of the scene’s—victim. By the time we’re—delving into—what kind of melon was used to mimic stabbed flesh (a—casaba) and, even another layer—deeper, why that—melon’s seed-to-flesh ratio made it perfect for the job, it was hard to keep a straight face.
A flubbed schedule—made me miss out on “Chasing JonBenet,” so I saw “God’s Own Country” instead, which details a young gay English farmer coming to grips with his sexuality by way of an itinerant farmhand. The inevitable “Brokeback Mountain” comparisons will be a shame, because the film, which won the Special Jury Award for Directing, is on a different plane.
While awards—evaded—”78/52″ and—”Chasing JonBenet,”—the—films, along with “Chasing Coral,” were picked up for distribution.—IFC nabbed—the rights to distribute “78/52″—, while Netflix agreed to a deal with—”Chasing Coral” and—”Casting JonBenet.”—For these small-budget, wide-eyed filmmakers, those honors might just mean more than a standing ovation.
