Requiem for a Film Festival

Park City, in the winter, is already a zoo. My favorite bar, into which I can wander at will during the warmer months, has a rope line during the ski season. The streets are jam-packed with well-heeled and not-so-well-heeled skiers and tourists from across the country and planet.  As I understand it, and from our single sojourn to the Film Festival, the crush of filmmakers, film stars, film buffs, and hangers-on heaps even more people on the city, making downtown unnavigable.

That said, ski season is the town's moneymaker, and Sundance has provided an additional economic boost to the community. Ironically, I am told that Park City does have a small homeless population, and many of the service workers who make Sundance and ski season realities struggle to meet basic needs.

There was a narrative floating around for a while that Utah’s crackdown on Pride and Progress flags was the final straw for the organizers, who simply could not tolerate any more conservative intolerance. I find that odd, since during June, Park City’s historic Main Street is lined with rainbow banners, which is to be expected in a town that has voted blue for as long as I can remember. 

There are a number of special events planned for the last hurrah, including tributes to the festival’s founder, Robert Redford. Redford was also the founder of the Sundance ski resort, which, up until the new owners decided it needed a hotel, was a nice little getaway for skiing or just to grab a bite to eat and take in the scenery. The resort also served as an artists’ community for a time, hosting various workshops and artists-in-residence. 

Along with notable contributions to the arts and film, Redford was also an avid environmentalist and a very staunch opponent to fossil fuels. That opposition extended to an area just under three hours away, where I lived for 20 years. Eighty percent of that area’s economy depended on the oil and natural gas industry. In addition to providing affordable energy, the industry allowed people to buy homes, make car payments, and put food on the table. At one point, someone who claimed to know a fifth columnist who worked at Sundance and had access to Redford was going to try to set up a debate between me and him. The evil conservative capitalist versus the noble environmentalist celebrity who, oddly enough, made all his money through the film industry and by turning a spot of forest into a ski resort. Which involves capitalism. And development.

That particular title bout never materialized, and I doubt that Redford would have given a tuppence about my opinions. I’m not sure Redford and the people he supported really understood all of the components of the energy industry. To Redford, Utah was red rocks and pristine mountain forests. I’m not even sure if he would have been able to make the connection between energy and the economy, or between reclamation and mitigation efforts. Like many wealthy people and celebrities, he just lived in a different world. It would be interesting, however, to see what he would have made of the development springing up around the area between Heber and Park City, where more and more of the land is being turned into ski resorts and luxury condos. 

Some Utahns, including a few Park City residents, are saying good riddance to the increased congestion the event brings, while others are mourning the end of an era and the departure of an internationally renowned event.

Even though I’ve only been to the festival once and it certainly wasn’t targeted at my demographic, in an odd way, I’ll miss it. Over the last two weeks, Mrs. Brown and I found ourselves in affluent ski communities, among people who were decidedly more progressive than ourselves. When off-duty or on holiday, I make it a point not to disclose my secret identity or politics simply because I don’t need the aggravation. Oddly enough, we had a nice time with all of those people. As it turned out, they were kind, funny, compassionate, and, yes, even thoughtful. I had wonderful discussions with these people, and honestly, I would have been happy to call them friends. And, I have no doubt those would have been good friendships until ICE, or MAGA, or anything else came up. And that’s unfortunate, because these were genuinely good people. And damn it, I know I should not say this as a conservative, but I honestly liked them.

Over the years, having moved from left to right, maybe in search of the center, I have learned that if conservatives encounter a leftist, more often than not they may engage in a little good-natured ribbing, but by and large they remain peaceful. Yes, there are a few rabid conservatives out there, but for the most part, right-wingers, in my experience, have been content to live and let live. 

By contrast, when the reverse happens, the conservative is subjected to all manner of vitriol, anger, and outright hatred. You know all of the usual buzzwords and catchphrases by now. If by chance you don’t, watch some footage from the past weekend. Or, for that matter, the past decade. 

It’s unfortunate since the United States of America was built on checks and balances. Our system of justice is adversarial, so in both instances, there is a time and space in any argument for someone to say, “Yes, but what about X?” Or, “Have you considered Y?” Or, “What do we do about Z?”

We may have peaceful, hardworking, illegal immigrants, but they still tax an overloaded system. And some of those illegal immigrants deal drugs, have gang affiliations, and commit assaults, rapes, and murders. Development and progress are all well and good, but sometimes, we really do need The Lorax to speak for the trees. 

The left likes to call our form of government “my democracy.” The truth is that it is a representative republic. Whatever you want to call it, the American form of government was not meant for lemmings. It was designed for a people dedicated to debate and discussion. It’s supposed to be messy. The people screaming about “no kings” and who are terrified that Trump will become “Big Brother” have no idea that they are selling themselves out to kings and an ersatz Stasi that know how to appeal to their night terrors or sense of superiority or belonging. They are frightened of different ideas. Some are so frightened that they departed from dissent and blew right past rebellion and into homicidal intent.

The left may need Charlie Kirk, but in the same vein, the tight needs the Sundance Film Festival. And they each need them for the same reason: for America to really work, we need to be able to at least enter the arena of ideas. Any worldview worth having can withstand examination.

For those reasons, I will miss the Sundance Film Festival. There needs to be dissenting voices for the republic to function as it should. Although I may not have agreed with the politics of the majority of the exhibitors or attendees, the establishment in Utah deserves to hear other voices. For that matter, so do the establishments of the left. If we take our cargo, or, in this case, our film festivals, and shove off for friendlier ports, shouting down the opposition as we depart, the divide only deepens, and the only people who benefit are the ones who have benefited all along.