Hold the (Cellular) Phone, Sundance Still Rises

If anyone ever makes a film about the Sundance Film Festival, “When Worlds Collide” would be the obvious title. A pleasantly schizophrenic event whose contradictory elements increase in intensity every year, Sundance is what Nietzsche had in mind when he said that what doesn’t kill one makes one stronger.

For the Cassandras who worry about the commercialization and Hollywoodization of this shrine to American independent film, there was a lot to point to, starting with an ever-increasing number of visiting “L.A.-liens” (as they are called locally), and a growing list of corporate sponsors--including Bank of America, AT&T; and the Gap. And the plague of portable phones has grown so great that most screenings begin with the stern admonition, “If you have a cellular phone, turn it off. Do not make or take any calls during the film.”

Balancing all this, however, is the passion and spirit of the young filmmakers who come here hoping for glory and believing that just being asked is, in the words of one director, “the most amazing, incredible, exciting special experience.”

Often spied in intense conversations or else determinedly taping posters for their films to every available wall space, the filmmakers sometimes end up doing even more. When a screening of the edgy, energetic “Rhythm Thief” was delayed for technical reasons, director Matthew Harrison (who’d shot the thing in 11 days for $11,000) sang a chorus of “There’s No Business Like Show Business” to keep the audience entertained.

Though the films entered in the dramatic competition did include the kind of painfully poetic, self-absorbed sonnets that give sensitivity a bad name, at least two films were lively enough to cheer up audiences and start distributors on the inevitable bidding wars.

Cutting closest to the bone for this audience was “Living in Oblivion,” written and directed by Tom DiCillo. A clever, tongue-in-cheek look at a shooting day in the life of an independent film called--yes--”Living in Oblivion,” DiCillo’s mock epic stars Steve Buscemi as Nick, a besieged director who can’t quite believe it when everything that might go wrong on his set does.

In addition to his pompous star Chad Palomino (deftly played by James LeGros) and a shaky leading lady (Catherine Keener), Nick has to contend with ego games, raging insecurities, multiple nervous breakdowns and spoiled milk. Very knowing in its depiction of the madness of low-budget filmmaking, this could turn into “The Player” for the independent world.

Less expected was “The Brothers McMullen,” a romantic comedy with some serious notes that centers on the relationship problems of three Irish Catholic brothers living on Long Island.

Written and directed by 26-year-old Edward Burns, who also stars as the rogueish Barry, “Brothers” is notable for its engaging comic naturalism, the way it sees the rueful humor in its characters’ foibles.

At a question-and-answer session, Burns said he shot the film in 22 days spread over eight months, “mostly weekends,” and did it not with Sundance in mind, but “as a calling card, so people would say, ‘Hey, this kid made this nice little film, let’s see what he can do with a little money.’ ”

Despite his low budget, Burns had no trouble attracting eager actors. “I placed one ad in Backstage and got 1,500 head shots and letters like, ‘Though I am 40 and Italian and Patrick is 20 and Irish, I know I can do the part.’ ”

To save money, Burns used his parents’ home as a location, had the cast and crew jump over a cemetery fence to steal a crucial scene and had to shoot one of his key romantic moments “in Central Park right below a family of 25 that was having a barbecue. They were very nice about it, though. They held the noise down when we told them it was a take.”

Originally only a writer, Burns became an actor in college because “I didn’t want theater majors in black turtlenecks to come in and bash my script.” And as a veteran of a few non-celebrated East Coast film schools, Burns passionately echoed other Sundance participants: “You don’t need to be at one of the big schools. If you have the talent and desire and grab the camera when you have the opportunity, you’re going to learn to make films.”

This same kind of faith in the power of film was echoed by the makers of the most unusual documentary in competition this year. Called “Teen Dreams,” it began when producers Peter Kinoy and Ilan Ziv gave video cameras to three savvy but disadvantaged teen-agers. After the teens recorded their lives for eight months, Kinoy and Ziv professionally edited the results while giving the youths the final say as to content.

Though nothing in “Teen Dreams” is unexpected, the honesty of the responses is compelling, as was the teens’ in-person responses after the screening. “What the camera did for me,” Frank Cardon of Philadelphia said quietly, “it listened to me. It didn’t tell me to shut up, it let me get things off my chest. It made me feel better about myself.”

Is it any wonder that despite its contradictions Sundance continues to thrive?