The independent film festival up in Park City has had "Sundance" in its title for more than a decade now, but it actually began as a much smaller affair back in the fall of 1978. It was called the Utah/US Film Festival, had a roster of 60-some films and featured eight low-budget, independent productions, six of them in competition.
The lines weren't very long for most of the festival's movies — the vast majority being older, retrospective works shown in the Trolley Corners triplex.
Remember, this was 1978. Home video for the masses was still a nice idea off in the distance. And for us, this seemed like a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
But when word got out about the quality of the independents — called "regional" films at the time — about how different these small, heartfelt films were from everything else, they soon became the festival's hot tickets.
I saw all six of the competition films on the festival's final day so I could interview the seven jury members afterward for a Deseret News story. Although it was a bit grueling to see six movies in one day, it was also quite exhilarating. I had seen offbeat, low-budget films before — but nothing like some of these.
The disparate six were "Bushman," "Girlfriends," "Local Color," "Martin," "Property" and "The Whole Shootin' Match." They were from all around the country: San Francisco, Portland, Austin, Pittsburgh and two from New York City.
Of those, the only two you can find on video today are "Martin" and "Girlfriends." They were by far the most polished in terms of production values and slick in their presentation. And, though they were a bit offbeat, neither was all that far removed from the mainstream in terms of narrative structure.
But the film that most impressed me, and which I still remember quite well after that single viewing 22 years ago, is the black-and-white character comedy, "The Whole Shootin' Match." It was rough around the edges, even amateurish in places, and was filmed on weekends in Austin by Eagle Pennel, who had practically no budget — the film cost an unbelievable $2,500 to make, without a single professional actor in the cast.
The film was about Frank and Lloyd, a pair of amiable ne'er-do-wells in pursuit of the American Dream via one harebrained scheme after another. I remember a couple of scenes with Frank and Lloyd in an old beat-up pickup truck they were supposed to be driving at night, but the background was pitch black and it was obvious that the truck was being rocked, not driven, as they exchanged their dialogue. Yet the technical weaknesses didn't seem to matter much because the movie was so alive and seemed so genuine in its characterizations and depiction of small-town Texas life. I was fascinated by what Pennel had accomplished with so little resources.
The celebrity jury (among them actress Katharine Ross, director Mark Rydell and editor Verna Fields) was also impressed. Although the grand prize went to "Girlfriends," "The Whole Shootin' Match" came in a close second and was voted a special second-place award.
It was a groundbreaking moment for independent film, signaling audience acceptance and foreshadowing the interest of Hollywood in these filmmakers.
In the years since, the festival has become much bigger, of course, and a lot more commercial. Some would argue that it's a bit compromised by the presence of so many Hollywood movers and shakers looking for the next big thing. And sometimes the films have less heart than avarice. I remember one year when the competition was loaded with graphic, violent movies about mobsters, as if independent filmmakers had been infected with the Quentin Tarantino bug.
It's changed. It's not the same. But, hey, so goes the world.
The Sundance Film Festival (along with Slamdance and other "dance" offshoots in Park City) still does a lot of good in promoting the idea of movies that follow a filmmaker's heart rather than the copycat nature of Hollywood.
And it's still nice to remember that it all began with "The Whole Shootin' Match," a movie that was made simply because Eagle Pennel had to make it. Because he just couldn't not make it.
Even though we can't see his movie now, the spirit of what Pennel accomplished will always be the spirit of what the Sundance Film Festival ought to be.
And maybe what it still occasionally is.
Entertainment editor Chris Hicks may be reached by e-mail at hicks@desnews.com