Sundance is the Harvard of Film Festivals: prestigious, dotted with celebrity, and monitored by companies for the next big hit. Geoffrey Gilmore has been its Dean of Admissions—Director of the Film Festival—from the start, responsible for making official film selections and arranging programming since 1990. But don’t ask him to pull any strings.

“I can’t tell you how many times the argument has been made that in order to get into Sundance, you need to have somebody call me,” he says to an auditorium full of students and VES Professors on Monday, April 3, fielding questions as well as propositions from a few fledgling filmmakers. “It’s actually the opposite.”

As Gilmore clarifies, films survive several rounds of screenings before reaching his office. Dressed in a cream v-neck sweater, black turtleneck, and jeans, he looks every bit the rugged Westerner one might expect to head a film festival snuggled in Park City, Utah (population: 7,000).

The Sundance Film Festival—brainchild of acting legend Robert Redford—arguably rivals Cannes and Toronto, the two other premiere film festivals of the world. According to Gilmore, what distinguishes Sundance from its international contemporaries is its more eclectic and wide ranging showcase, hardly limited to glamour, high culture, or nebulous art.

“[The festival] was not necessarily driven by the idea that it was going to be commercial,” he explains, mentioning the appeal of racial, sexual, and aesthetic diversity. “And there ended up being a kind of freshness to a part of it.”

A freshness that some, even Redford, fear is fading in light of overwhelming celebrity and business interest. Redford was quoted earlier this year saying that commercialism had brought the festival to the verge of being out of control. Gradually, Sundance has transformed from a creative retreat to the latest chichi spot for celebrities. As media, artists, and a-listers ascend on Park City, which regularly swells to 45,000 during the festival, companies capitalize on the exposure. Mere advertisements no longer suffice; among other things, businesses dispense gift bags, host suites, and throw parties to earn attention.

“There are issues for us to deal with,” Gilmore admits, but explains how the line is “walked very carefully,” balancing tensions between celebrity and the subsequent interest it sparks.

“I don’t have the power to bar Paris Hilton from Sundance. I’m not sure I would if I could,” he admits.

According to Gilmore, other American film festivals cannot match the marketing draw of Sundance. Major studios flock to the tiny Utah town to survey the latest independent flicks, and if they’re lucky, nab the next sleeper hit for national distribution.

Fox Searchlight broke a Sundance record at the 2006 festival when it paid10.5 million for “Little Miss Sunshine,” no doubt hoping to mimic success found in recent indie sensations like “March of the Penguins,” which commanded a cool $77 million at the box office. Unquestionably, otherwise unknown artists benefit from the media frenzy.

“One of the best thing’s we can do for a young filmmaker is get him out of debt,” Gilmore says, paraphrasing Redford. The national focus also alleviates marketing pressures: “Half of independent films are fueled not by advertising, but by publicity.” This year, 100 plus films made it into the festival.

But a Paris Hilton appearance or two is not what concerns Gilmore; his unease stems from technology, specifically the festival’s refusal to address new waves in cultural exposure to film.

“What I’m worried about in terms of film festivals is that MySpace will become a much more important platform for people who want to pay attention to what culture is,” referring to interactive social networking on the web. And though he emphasizes that a “six minute clip” hardly compares to a theater viewing, there is a need for festivals to respond.

Gilmore discusses the possibilities: allowing viewers to watch a world premier of a Sundance film on broadband, selling Sundance films to Pay-Per-View, packaging Sundance films with web platforms.

“Is that upsetting to the industry?” he asks, “You betcha, because it changes the nature of what the festival is.”

Gilmore continues, “But do I think that we should just sit there…? No. I care very much that the cultural aspect of what Sundance is opens itself to the possibility of what works.”

Let’s just hope a Paris Hilton marketing campaign never materializes.



—Staff writer Lindsay A. Maizel can be reached at lmaizel@fas.harvard.edu.