I'm still not quite sure who made the call on this one, but somehow the folks over at The Sundance Film Festival thought it would be a good idea to let UnitShifter join their little party. Hot damn!

Of course, Talibano is under cave-arrest, Artfag is scared of mountains, and Ryan-O won't go anywhere without at least three personal assistants, so it was up to us second-stringers to roll out to Park City and get the story. All I have to say is that all those Sundance filmmakers should be feeling very blessed right about now... I'm not nearly as full of piss & vinegar as your average Shifter.

Danny Devito rawks!

Now, I've been to Sundance before, so it wasn't a total shock for me. However, I do think the uninitiated Shifters out there would benefit from a briefing. See, many people are mistaken into thinking Sundance is a mecca for independent filmmakers... a fraternal order of interdependence and support for the shoestring budgeter. Well, sorry to dash your hopes to the ground, but that's not even close to the truth.

This dude totally cut me on line for the bathroom! I'm not lyin!'

Sundance takes place high above the mountains of Utah in a resort ski town called Park City. It's not like there's a thriving indie film scene in Park City that necessitated the founding of an independent film festival. No, the reality is that Robert Redford likes to ski there. That's really about all there is to it.

Every January, the little tourist town of Park City is overrun with "the people in black" (as the natives call them). Unlike the usual skiers and snowboarders, "the people in black" are generally Hollywood executives, Hollywood wanna-bes, celebrities, fashionistas, filmmakers, publicists, and any other manner of Blackberry-toting maniac. Though there are a lot of New Yorkers, the reality is that Sundance is really just Hollywood-light... all the cocaine, half the special effects.

What the fuck was Michael Ironside doin' partying with Christian Bale & Rudy Giuliani?? I told him Scanners ruled and he told me to fuck myself!

And don't think for a second that we're talking about Rutger Hauer movies here. No, this is not the venue for our own Thirston Fonsworthy to go slumming for interviews. The actors promoting movies at Sundance 2004 included Naomi Watts, Kevin Bacon, Ashton Kutcher, and Courtney Cox.

So wipe that indie dream off your face, that ain't what this is all about.

Except...

A new hardcover hit bookshelves about a month before Sundance opened this year... Peter Biskind's DIRTY PICTURES: Miramax, Sundance, and the Rise of Independent Film. I haven't had a chance to read the book yet, but the mountains of Utah were buzzing with references to it. Apparently, Biskind devoted DIRTY PICTURES (his follow-up to EASY RIDERS, RAGING BULLS) to the history of how Miramax and Sundance royally fucked the emerging independent film movement by turning it into their own personal cash cow.

We totally caught these fuckers sneaking out to play a press show without telling the other Rejects and we narced on em to their bandmates. Hah ha!

Whether Biskind's alleged thesis is true or not, Sundance 2004 seemed to suffer a weird case of backlash. Redford and his band of merry festival organizers decided to focus the festival on... films. It was very unsettling. Honestly, most people think of Sundance as an opportunity for schmoozing and snorting coke off of models' privates--so focusing the festival on films instead of parties is, well, downright revolutionary.

Of course, there were still plenty of coked-up celebrities and sweaty parties... but unlike my Sundance 2000 review that focused only on the parties, I'm actually gonna have to review some movies this time. I guess that's just what life is like post September 11th.

The first movie I saw was METALLICA: SOME KIND OF MONSTER, directed by Joe Berlinger & Bruce Sinofsky and starring, obviously, Metallica. Berlinger and Sinofsky have brought us stunning documentaries for years, including BROTHER'S KEEPER and PARADISE LOST, so you can tell right off the bat they're slumming for content these days. Alright, this was a really weird fucking movie. [Warning: I was playing drinking games with Macaulay Culkin at the Master P party, so I was about 20 minutes late to the screening. Fuck you if ya can't take it.] I used to love Metallica... y'know, circa Master of Puppets and ...And Justice For All. That black album kind of rubbed me the wrong way... not in that Johnny Gill way... in fact, I don't think I ever like any black albums... Jay-Z's black album kind of sucks, too... but at least he's actually black. Anyway, I digress. The point is, y'know how Metallica became such a bunch of pussies on the black album? Well, it seems that they just became bigger and bigger pussies. I never even listened to Load, so I'm sure I can't even imagine what a piece of shit it is. As I learned in the documentary, it was such a phenomenal embarrassment that they had to release Reload as an apology... but instead of an apology it just added insult to incompetence. So the band almost broke up. Hetfield went into rehab. Newsted bailed and linked up with Ozzy. That left Lars and Hammett to keep the band together. Unfortunately, instead of throwing in the towel, Lars and Hammett hired a psychotherapist to help them heal their wounds and figure out their path back to glory. Psychotherapist Guy, who looks a lot like Mr. Rogers, works with them all the time Hetfield is in rehab, then stays with them to help re-integrate Hetfield into the band once he's done with rehab. In fact, he stays with them throughout the whole process of hiring a new bassist and recording the new album St. Anger (how fucking mo is that title, by the way?). So... the documentary is basically a 2 1/2 hour video of Hetfield, Lars, and Hammett in a super prolonged group therapy session. It's fucking weird. There's a lot of that creepy therapy-speak like "When you say you write all the music, it makes me feel insignificant and sad" or "I appreciate your wit and your charm, but I hope you can appreciate my sincerity." They don't really say that shit, but they might as well... it's really that corny. It's a lot like the dialogue between Satan and Saddam Hussein in the SOUTH PARK movie.

"Did you see that fucker said you look like Phil Collins??!" "Fuck! I do! Fuuuck!"

The result is a really disarming documentary about the monsters of rock who have feet of clay. But this is all very common post-OSBOURNES. See, in the 80s, the media was all about how crazy and wild and renegade metal guys were. Now, the media is all about how retarded and illiterate and dorky metal guys are. But the thing is, most of us already know these guys are just a bunch of geeky retards, despite the fact that they rawked. What good is it for me to see Lars Ulrich look like an annoying little prick with a Napoleon complex and the physique of Phil Collins? Don't get me wrong, it's a good documentary and it's occasionally fascinating... but, at the end of the day, who gives a fuck about these assholes? Give me MC Hammer ranting about Jesus on The Surreal Life over this shit any day. If you really have a chubby for Metallica, stick with CLIFF EM ALL. [Incidentally, I know you're all wondering if the doc covers the shit about Lars & Napster. Well, it does, but not in a really compelling way. Lars just looks like a douchebag who put his foot in his mouth and, upon realizing he should spit it out, decided to swallow it instead. I missed the part where Dave Mustaine freaks out about getting kicked out of the band... and I'm actually bummed that I missed that part. I hear it's *amazing*. Poor asshole... Metallica may suck now, but Megadeth *always* sucked.]

The next flick I caught was another music documentary, but this one was actually pretty fucking great.

DiG!, directed by Ondi Timoner, is a fresh, exciting, and even occasionally touching documentary about the relationship between two "rival" bands: The Dandy Warhols and The Brian Jonestown Massacre. Now, here's the thing... I was late to this one, too. But, y'see, that's the kind of degenerate I am... if I were to arrive on time to a goddamned rock n roll documentary--I mean, I wouldn't be very rock n roll, now would I? And since I don't listen to the Dandy's wanna-be-Brit-pop or the Massacre's shoegazing-pap, I don't really know how the two bands wound up linking up. Nonetheless, they did... if you want to know how, see the documentary when it comes out, Palm Pictures just bought the rights for theatrical and DVD. I highly recommend it. Anyhow, the flick documents the relationship between the two frontment (the Dandys' Courtney Taylor-Taylor and the Massacre's Anton Newcombe) in the typical closeted-homo-erratic style of alternating worship & hate. The Dandys come off as a bunch of glossed-over pop pussies, while the Massacre comes off as true rock with Anton ably serving as the tortured genius. As the Dandys rise in popularity and the Massacre crashes and burns, the documentary pushes all the right buttons and leaves the viewer with simultaneous feelings of dread and hope. Check it out, it's my personal pick of the fest. Then why is this review so short? Cuz I want you to actually see the movie, rather than just read my dumb opinion and pass yourself off as a smartass at some party. I know that's the only reason you read this website: canned small-talk. Fuckin Hollywood.

Dude... I caught Liz Phair partyin' with Punky fucking Brewster! Sundance rules!

That night we saw Liz Phair play a live show. She's still a cutie, but what the fuck are those new songs? Christ.

GARDEN STATE was the next flick on the schedule. The only word I can use to describe it is "sweet," and I mean that in the most positive and classical sense. This movie drips sweet, but not in a sappy way... well, sort of in a sappy way--but still a good sappy way. It's sweet in the way HAROLD & MAUDE is sweet. Writer/director/star Zach Braff (that dude from SCRUBS) did a great job of updating the offbeat romance movie so that it applies chiefly to the tail end of Generation X. This film, far more than that self-indulgent pile of crap REALITY BITES, distills the numbed sweetness and charm of the generation that seems to have already burned out and is now beginning to fade away. Braff plays an over-medicated wanna-be actor waiting tables in Hollywood who returns home to Jersey when he learns that his mother has died. Of course, he falls in love with Natalie Portman... lucky for her since she will never ever ever be nearly as hot as she was in THE PROFESSIONAL. I know she was barely a teen... what am I gonna tell you? She still looks young. She's just not hot anymore. Anyway, this is really a good, sweet, funny, charming film--great for a date with a girl in her late twenties or early thirties. It's getting released by Fox Searchlight and Miramax in a really weird distribution duet, so it'll surely be on the radar, check it out and make sure not to eat any onions beforehand, you crass fools.

HARRY & MAX, however, will probably not be on the radar. Oh boy, this might just be the weirdest movie I have ever seen. It's the story of two popstar brothers... you guessed it, Harry and Max. The older one is on his way to being washed up, while the younger one is on route to super duper stardom. Yeah yeah, nothing new about that, right? But wait... THEY'RE GAY AND INCESTUOUS! Ah hah, now we have something slightly new here. Oh yeah, you don't even know the half of it. How do we learn about their relationship? Well, laying in a tent on a camping trip, the conversation is interrupted by Younger Bro slipping under the covers and shining Older Bro's pop knob. Uhh... what? Unexpected twists are one thing, but if that little adolescent is gonna have nuclear-family-nuts on his chin, I want at least a little foreshadowing. But that's not even the biggest surprise... in one scene, Younger Bro confides in Older Bro that he's been gettin' banged by his school teacher. A few scenes later, Older Bro stops by the school teacher's house. Is he there to beat the shit out of the pedophile? Maybe? Uh no. After a brief conversation, Older Bro turns around, drops trou, bends over, and says the classic line "I was hoping you could straighten me out." Uhh.

Hey, that's the dude Nick Carter--with Paris Hilton?? I wonder if they've got a video of her straightenin' him out...

Right. (Un)fortunately, the red hot anal that followed was handled offscreen. Nonetheless, this is one freaky movie. If you're up for some bro-on-bro action, hook it up. If not, there's one reason to see it other than trainwreck-factor: gossip around the festival is that the movie is based on the true life relationship between popstars Nick and Aaron Carter. Hah hah--eat yer ass out, Talibano, I got some gossip hotter than unlubed anal with a 14 year old popstar! Now, don't go suing me Carters, I don't even know who the fuck you are... I'm just saying that's what the buzz was. I don't read Tiger Beat, so I don't know you.

"Stay away from my daughters!"

After being slapped silly by HARRY & MAX, I strolled into the Premiere Magazine party and saw Al fucking Gore. Supposedly he had a fit and threw an ashtray at someone... must've been drunk and thought he saw Ryan-O (goddamned Naderite cost that fool the election). But, knowing ol' Al was in the house, I went sleazing all across Park City, crawling from party to party... one objective on my mind: find the Gore Girls. I just knew that if I could find either of the Gore Girls, they would assuredly be knackered beyond any rational ability and, once in my sight, no parental advisory in the world could protect them from my charms. Alas, it was not to be.

She's totally calling security on Talibano!

During my futile quest for Gore-ass, I tripped over Paris Hilton at the William-Morris party. Since she was on her knees and my depth perception was lost many open-bars ago, it was a calamity waiting to happen. The funny part, though, is she went to help me up until she saw my press badge and recognized the ol' UnitShifter name... seriously, I'd already suffered more than a few kicks to the ribs before I could blurt out that I'm not Talibano. Damn, that bitch is vicious. Talibano better watch his back next time he stays at a Hilton--hah hah, imagine Talibano at a Hilton... that fucker can barely afford a lean-to at the side of Interstate 80.

GI Joel would make the perfect boy-toy for Goober!

The next morning I dragged my aching ass out to see WORD WARS, a douche-u-mentary about professional Scrabble players. Uhhh, yeah. No, seriously, it wasn't bad. I had no fucking clue that these people exist, though. So it was definitely eye opening to take a peak into this freak culture. My favorite of the freaks is a guy named GI Joel... GI stands for gastro-intestinal. You do the math. Yikes! Check it out, though, I predict it will have a good life on basic cable. Definitely worth a stop while channel surfing.

Then I caught festival sweetheart D.E.B.S.--a superslick, young, action-comedy about an elite force of secret agents who are really hot girls fresh out of high school. There's this secret part of the SATs (a la ALIAS) that tests how well you lie and if you do well on that you get recruited, blah blah blah. It was alright. It was really weird to see at Sundance, because it seemed more suited to play after CITY GUYS on T-NBC. Apparently, it was at Sundance because director Angela Robinson brought a short-film version of it to Sundance in 2003, and people loved the short film so much that she got enough momentum to make the feature... so, of course, Sundance invited her back when it was done. I never saw the short, but I hear it was very funny. Without giving too much away, the main twist is that there's this lesbian encounter between the main D.E.B. and the arch-nemesis. It was probably a good enough twist to sustain a short film, but it's not enough to sustain the feature. The filmmaker and her publicists are pushing this school-girl/lipstick-lesbian meets CHARLIE'S ANGELS vibe, but it's more like V.I.P. than CHARLIE'S ANGELS. Like, y'know how V.I.P. has cute girls, but the storytelling is so weak that it's just not the same calibre as CHARLIE'S ANGELS [which, of course, is no great work of art--but at least within the realm competent(ish)]? Well, that's how this is... it's pretty much the storytelling calibre of V.I.P. The girls are cute and the flick is occasionally funny, but it's just not a well told story. The lead, Sara Foster, was fucking awful--I'm pleased to see that her current release, THE BIG BOUNCE, is bouncing straight to the used bin at Amoeba. Jordana Brewster is good in D.E.B.S., though, and I must say she's a fucking piece of ass. But even way hotter than Brewster is Meagan Good. Woowee! Hot! Like I was saying, the girls are hot... but that just ain't enough to make it anything more than a film version of V.I.P. The funny part, though, is that the show is essentially stolen by the one person who is not only *not* a gorgeous girl, but actually a fairly busted guy: Jimmi Simpson. He's fucking great, and he's really the only one in themovie with any comic timing at all. I almost want to recommend it just for him alone. But, y'know, it's not bad... it's a guilty pleasure. Check it out next time you wanna sneak yourself a little indie version of V.I.P.

Uncharacteristically for Sundance, there were two sci-fi movies at the festival. One was an abomination. The other was pretty damn good. One will surely make tons of change at the box office. The other will be lucky if it ever finds a cozy spot in the video store to rot away in obscurity. And guess which one is the good one. Yup...

Okay, the abomination... Ashton Kutcher in THE BUTTERFLY EFFECT. Why was this movie at the festival... just days before it opened wide in theaters across the country? I DON'T KNOW! I don't know why anyone thinks this movie is acceptable to play in movie theaters! Ashton! I know you read this site... WHAT WERE YOU THINKING??? Holy shit. This movie is the kind of movie you assume will be terrible, but you go anyway because it'll be funny and it can't really be *that* bad. Ohhhhh, how wrong we were. It is *worse* than that bad. The general idea (MONKEY'S PAW meets BACK TO THE FUTURE) is okay, but the translation of that idea into a movie is just the worst thing you could imagine. The script has more holes than THE L WORD and the acting is so bad that it makes you long for Affleck and JHo. DO NOT SEE THIS MOVIE!

On the other hand, DO see ONE POINT 0. This sci-fi noir gem was a completely random find at Sundance. Unlike all the movies trying in vain to be ANNIE HALL or GO FISH, this one had more in common with BRAZIL and TETSUO: IRON MAN. Starring coolguy Jeremy Sisto (of SIX FEET UNDER fame), this gorgeously photographed tale of future-imperfect is both moody and cyberpunk with a cool, gothic-industrial kind of urban decay feel and a subversive, anti-corporate theme running beneath the surface. There's no point summarizing it, since summarizing any good noir without spoiling is a futile endeavor. However, all you really need to know is that Lance Henriksen is in it. Fuck yeah. There may be no Rutger Hauer movies at Sundance, but Henriksen gives the festival all the UnitCredibility it needs.

Those are the best of the worst, but don't be fooled, there are plenty more flicks coming your way from Sundance 2004... I'm just *way* too much of a degenerate to have caught them all. I've heard great things about MARIA FULL OF GRACE, BAADASSSSS, THE CONTROL ROOM, NAPOLEON DYNAMITE, CSA, RIDING GIANTS, AZUMI, WE DON'T LIVE HERE ANYMORE, THE MACHINIST, SUPER SIZE ME, PRINCIPLES OF LUST, NEVERLAND, and BORN INTO BROTHELS. So defintely support those and send in your own goddamned reviews. For real, if you've got some big fucking secret then why don't you tell me something!

Anyhow, there you have it... Sundance 04. It was a pretty good year, I must say. Sure, I tore up a couple of flicks, but, with the exception of THE BUTTERFLY EFFECT, I wouldn't tell you to avoid any of them--they all had some really interesting things going on in them and overall gave me a revitalized sense of appreciation for Sundance. Yeah, it's kind of a flawed industry event that's rife with celebrity politics and elitist bullshit, but the films are still pretty good... despite the fact that they're a bit more celebrity-driven and mainstream-accessible than one might hope for from the most revered independent film venue. There are various other festivals that take place around Park City during the same time period, but they've all seemed to lose momentum in the last few years. Film festival politics aside, I was real into the movies I caught this year, so check em out. Ya hear??