Reporting from Sundance: Behind-the-scenes account on 2025 film festival
Park City sparkled with snow and illuminated “Sundance” signs while packs of film fanatics joined skiers looking to hit the powder. Sundance was something of a legendary event in my circles — from celebrity sightings to the mysterious air of “artsy” films, I was curious coming in as a first-time student reporter.
The moment I was handed my bright green press pass and gift bag with a complimentary beanie, I knew it was going to be a lovely weekend. The beanie definitely helped me blend in among the swaths of fashionistas roaming Park City. I don’t often keep up with celebrities, so I was worried I might accidentally ask one where the bathrooms were without realizing who I was talking to.
My team and I threw ourselves straight into the chaos, interviewing directors in a press line moments after they learned their film had won an award. As names were being called from a monitor on the wall, the directors made their way down the line with cameras and microphones thrown at them like celebratory confetti.
Seeing the raw emotions, from absolute bliss and disbelief to bittersweet tears, highlighted the immense effort these individuals put in to reach that exact moment — one I got to participate in. Every director I spoke to was thrilled to speak to a student reporter about their successes and failures.
My interview with the director of “Zodiac Killer Project” Charlie Shackleton stood out after we finally got to see his film. It was surreal realizing his voiceovers would be heard by millions, and I got to ask him about his process mere moments after he won the NEXT Innovator Award.
Even with press passes, films were difficult to get into, but the anticipation gave it an air of competition and exhilaration. The four of us would huddle on the sidewalk, in our hotel or sitting in the car, our phones drawn like swords, each watching the clock with laser focus, waiting for the moment to strike. If we weren’t fast enough, waitlist tickets would disappear in seconds.
We ended up seeing five films in total, each with a different style of expression and approach to video I had never seen in mainstream media.
Each time, it was like trying to get a fast pass for a brand-new ride at an amusement park. The actual experience of the movie was no different. The lines rivaled those of Disneyland, but the room was filled with the scent of popcorn and snippets of strangers’ conversations that gave us inklings as to what we wanted to see next.
Most lines were organized into large white tents outside the theater and were filled to the brim with hope and suspense, each person wondering if they would be one of the first to see the hottest films of the year.
Sundance volunteers in bright green coats ushered us from various checkpoints with big smiles on their faces, as if they knew the secret of the magic we would soon witness.
Once the unease ended and we were officially let into the theater, every single seat was filled. I almost expected a safety restraint to go over my shoulders from the roller-coaster-like atmosphere of it.
It was what I always imagined the golden age of cinema to be like: people camping outside theaters, a room so packed with people the atmosphere was electric and the feeling that something incredible was about to happen.
It was like being transported through the screen. This is the feeling my grandpa tried to convey when he retold his account of seeing the original “Star Wars” in theater. Attending Sundance was like time traveling back to a period when moving pictures still felt impossible yet evoked very genuine emotion.
The movie theater industry is dying, but this felt like something real and raw — worth driving through the snow, spending an hour in line and dealing with neck strain when we were placed in the very front row. This was not something to be casually put on in the background of a living room TV.
The thing that really convinced me Sundance films were something special was this: The entire audience applauded at the end of each one.