Glitz Inevitable, Ego Intense

The Sundance Institute, with its flag‑broad torch, spills 90 feature films into Park City and the Step‑and‑Repeat Red of Salt Lake City, inviting the fashion‑aficionado hordes. Gatekeepers parade through the velvet rope, while the impatient drive‑thick arteries strain beneath the crowd. Kim Yutani’s selection buzzes with a handful of first‑time filmmakers, but the glitter of the gha‑needed personalities – Rinko Kikuchi, Channing Tatum, Rashida Jones – overshadows the raw narratives. Guests lounges in white‑tipped carriage booths, debating the eloquence of a film presented in double‑streamed online frames. I recount the congested avenues, the six‑minute drive to the Rose Wagner Performing Arts Center, and the pewlet‑filled cavern where Cookie Queens garners its applause. The venue’s polite adherence to gala black, matching the Plush Couch seating, belies the undercurrent of smugness that surreptitiously cloaks the event. Verdict: Send a check but stay home.