Days 7 and 8

Lots and lots of driving through largely beautiful scenery. On Saturday, I caught my last Sundance Film, this one called This Is Martin Bonner. It was a reserved, touching film about a many trying to renter society after being in prison for manslaughter and the mentor who guides him along. Then I took off for Grand Junction, Colorado. Not much in between other than terrible weather. As well, I stayed at the Mes Inn in Grand Junction. Worst hotel of all time. I think it was colder in the room that outside. Seriously. What a mess. Today, I took off East aiming for Amarillo, Texas. Colorado was stunning. Whereas in Alberta, the Rockies look to have been lifted up from underneath, the red rock in CO looks like people pushed two sides so forcefully together they had nowhere to go but jut out of the ground. Quite cool. Additionally, the route I took went through Denver which meant going straight into the mountains. I passed through village after village of beautiful ski areas — little Banff's — and then all of sudden, you're driving uphill from 7,000 feet to over 1,100. In like, 25 miles. I thought my car was going to have a heart attack. Just as quickly, you decline and within another 25 miles you're completely clear. Amazing terrain. What of New Mexico I saw was beautiful, as well. Then into Texas, which so far has been stereotypical. Looks like it does. Oddly enough, I passed through a number of small towns and thought immediately to The Last Picture Show, which made me smile. I don't know how people do it, but hey, it's a life.

Days 5 and 6

Day 5 and 6 Thursday The best day of the week came on Thursday. I had a ticket for a noon showing in Park City — the ski town that served as the primary locale for the festival — so this was to be the day I would check out what Sundance was all about. It didn’t start off great. Overnight there had been a change in weather that resulted in ice rain. It caked a layer of ice over my car unlike anything I had ever seen — my poor Mazda 3 literally encased in a perfect sheen of ice. This took me about ten minutes to scratch off and amazingly, the ice came off in large chunks as if I had smashed a puzzle to bits. The roads were similarly treacherous which is fantastic news when driving to a ski town. However, I made it alright. In prepping for my trip to Park City, I had read in numerous blogs that parking can be a nightmare but I opted to drive anyways and park on the fringes. Turns out, I called the festival’s bluff — parking was a breeze. The weather undoubtedly helped. However, as I will mention in a bit, the parking ease had an odd reverse effect, as well. My film was at the Yarrow Hotel which had fashioned a conference room as a theatre. The film was Blue Caprice, made by a French filmmaker and based on the Washington sniper from 2003. The film was excellent. It was quite a chilling vision and perhaps the best film commenting on the conditioned violence of the United States I’d seen. After the film had ended, I walked down Main Street towards the downtown. Here’s where the parking situation backward in an odd way: due to the weather and being later in the week, the attendance was so low I walked 20 blocks of which at least the first 15 had free available parking. Damnit. Regardless, I made it downtown in no time and walked the length of Main Street. Park City has a cool downtown, lined with little shops and the like. A neat feature is a chair lift that runs directly over the street because the ski hill is next to the city. Along Main Street I also passed the famed Egyptian Theatre. It was a neat experience and the low attendance made it easy to traverse, though I wish it had been a tad busier and thus, more interesting. I walked back to my car — which had avoided towing, booya — and drove back to SLC. The road back is amazing because it goes straight through the middle of a canyon. Unlike in Kananaskis, the canyon is the only way through the mountains and you travel the length of it in and out of the mountains. That evening, I had my sights set on the only film showing at the festival I absolutely needed to see: Before Midnight. The third film by Richard Linklater that starred Julie Delpy and Ethan Hawke, the first two are a pair of my favorite films — rivaling even The Godfather duos. I was unable to buy a ticket at the box office, so I opted to waitlist. A quick rundown of how the waitlisting works: two hours prior to the film, everyone lined up in the waitlist line is given a number based on their spot. You are then to return at least a half hour prior to the film and re-enter the line in that order. I got there two-and-a-half hours early and was seventeenth in line. I returned and got my place in line. As the regular ticket holder were being escorted into the film, the volunteer in charge of the waitlist line was making wisecracks to playfully unnerve us all. After the ticket line had gone in, there was a painful wait in which we would all determine how many people got in and learn our fate. Someone behind me said, ‘The average waitlist entries is 16...’ and I thought, oh no, what’s my number again? 17. The funny-guy volunteer returned and started to count off the people in line who would be admitted. ‘...12, 13, 14, 15 aaaaaaand 16...in ya go.’ Leaving me standing as the first guy to be turned away. I was losing it. This was the only film I wanted to see. Thoroughly stressed, the volunteer told me to hold on as they do a double-check. I was literally sweating. After a moment he returned, and with a big sigh...he admitted me. What a relief. I got into the theatre and there at least still 20 available spots. What a dick that guy was. Regardless, the film was wonderful. I was content. I slept like a baby that night. Friday Today was lax. I woke up late, had a long chat with my new roomie (who I had an earlier long chat with the day before; a way cool dude), then went to the coffeeshop to read and write. I was there for a few hours, then returned to my hostel to relax. My film was at 9 p.m. so I had a lot of time to kill but felt like taking it easy. At 5 p.m. I walked to the library only to sit down and instantly have a guy walk by and announce, ‘We’re closed in ten minutes.’ Sonofabitch. I walked back and wrote until 8 p.m. before driving to the Broadway Cinema for my sixth film, Pit Stop. The thing about the festival circuit is most of these films are on that circuit for a reason. Whether in trying to lure prospective distributors or simply being pet projects of the festival institute. Sometimes, it's because they aren't likely to break through into theatres and the mainstream. In Pit Stop's case, the latter applies. It wasn't very impressive. I won't commit too many words to it, but had I got outta there as soon as she was done. Didn't wait for the Q and A. I felt I had appreciated the filmmaker enough just by staying in the theatre. That was my day.

Days 4 and 5

Day 4 Tuesday After my post on Monday evening, I received my first hostel experience when I was awakened by the noise of someone checking in at 2 a.m. I soon found out: the guy was to be my roommate. Some shuffling outside my door, a clatter of a key in the lock and boom, the door was open and my new roomie was checking in, “What the FUCK?” he said. I have no idea why but he said it. I wasn’t naked or anything. I was pretending to be asleep. He closed the door, talked with his buds for a half hour, they concluded to go to a hotel, then reopened the door, tossed his shit on the bunk above and left. When I awoke, I started a routine. I had surmised on Sunday — which turned out to be along day — that I needed to find a routine to ensure the days were either productive or at least stimulating (it can be hard when you have no work to do and are in a strange town by yourself). With my second film slated for 6:45 p.m., I woke up at 10 a.m. — ah, sleeping in! — and drove to 900 E and 900 S, right where the cinema of my first showing was. The intersection there had a few neat shops, somewhat like Inglewood, and Google told me there was a Starbucks. Google lied. A good lie as it turned out; disappointed at the plot development, I noticed a cafe next door to the cinema and went there. I ordered a SUPER LATTE (a large) which happened to also be quite super, and continued reading Brave New World by Aldous Huxley. After a bit of reading, I worked on some of my screenplays and before I knew it, it was 1 p.m. I drove back to the hostel then walked to the library downtown. The library was enormous and beautiful. The architecture is modern with an entire side comprised of glass and bridges over to the landings in front of them. Again, read and worked until it was 5:30 — polished off Brave New World (which was so awesome) —and drove back to the hostel, checked my email and went to my second film. With paid parking downtown, I screwed up and parked way too far away from the cinema. I got inside and chose a nice place to sit, just off the isle on the right and the film got going. The Meteor, a French Canadian film, told entirely through images with narration over it. It drew parallels to The Tree of Life in its style — so naturally, I loved it. The film ended and the Q and A started. One gentle, ignorant soul asked the director if there was a particular genre Quebec cinema preferred. The director was nice and backhandedly threw the rest of Canada under the bus. I forgave him cause his film was awesome and if it wasn’t for our taxpayer dollars his provincial government could not have generously funded it. So I’ll let bygones be bygones. Day 5 Wednesday With my film not until 9 p.m. I had a lot of day to fill. I started it out with my routine — I hit up the coffee shop (SUPER LATTE!!!), started The Spy Who Came In From The Cold by Le Carre (a sequel to Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy), did some screenplay work then went for a walk in Lierty Park which was beautiful. Afterwards, I bolted back to the hostel for lunch. This is when I met my roomie for the first time. John was his name and he is from Philly. Except, as most Philadelphians (Dov’nah I am looking at you), he leads expeditions into the wild. Like, Survivorman-style. What a badass. He apologized if he work me — he did — I told him not to sweat it — he should — and said I didn’t wake up — I had. After lunch, I went to the library and did the same: read Spy/Cold, then started an idea for a television series, very high-concept stuff on the world of professional football. Thought it pretty badass. I did all this until 6 p.m., then went to Trolley Square (where I had purchased my Sundance tix) and to a wing joint a hostel tenant had recommended. These wings were BADASS. For one, they were huge. For second, they had unlimited flavorings as they could mix any you wanted. And for third, they had a blue cheese dip which was delicious. Well worthy. Afterwards, I drove to the Tower Theatre (the site of my first film), was a tad early for entry so I froze my ass off for 10 minutes before getting in. I watched a curious little film called Computer Chess. It was shot on one of those handheld cameras form the early 70’s and was about a chess competition between computers and the hilarity of their creators. It was...curious. Uneven, but funny.

Day 3

What do you get when you drop the 80 KM between Calgary and the Rockies? Salt Lake City. The mountains are right on the doorstep. It is spectacular. The downside? It is cold. Granted, no colder than Calgary, but in Calgary I wasn't walking everywhere. Sunday... I set out to buy my tickets to the Sundance Festival. To be up front, I did mess up. I had the opportunity to get Advanced Tickets but decided I would prefer to purchase individual tickets as to ensure I could work my schedule. The website said I could buy online on Jan. 15 but neglected to inform you needed to register on the site prior to Dec. 17 to buy online AT ALL. So they screwed me. Fine. My hostel is some 12 blocks from the ticket office, so I set out on foot. I got lost. Ended up in Temple-ville — which is actually pretty neat. The number of religious temples, churches, and the like is mind-boggling. There is an incredible sense of history, where the city originated. Eventually, I doubled back and found the ticket office. I did ok. I got a ticket for each day but only one in Park City, where the main festivities are held. I'll drop in a couple of days and otherwise occupy myself in SLC, where my screeings are. I made it back to my hostel and watched the Niners beat the Falcons on a 12-inch tv. I tried going to a local sports bar but it was packed. Either way, the 49ers screwed everything up. I was going to pass through Atlanta and watch the Super Bowl at a bar had they made it, but no. Ironic, I was in San Fran a year ago and loved it. Now the city is just screwing me over for my affection. That night I walked to a local theater for my first film, Shopping. A New Zealand film, it portrayed a young Maori boy who falls in with a bad crowd. Good little film. The theatre was spectacular; one of those throwbacks with wood floors and a stage in front of the screen. Loved it. Monday... Today was low-key as I had no film tickets. I had scouted some places to visit and had a few errands, so I set out first thing to a mall to buy some sandals for my Florida leg. The mall I went to was next to Energy Solutions Arena (corporate sponsorship is so fun!) and had a great layout. The design utilize storefronts that faced into neat squares and terraces. Got my sandals on discount, 8 bucks. Boom. Grabbed a coffee, sat down and read Brave New World for an hour. After that, I made the drive to the Salt Lake City Olympic Oval, built for the 2002 games. The majority of the place was closed. However, I got a pic of the records plaque in the lobby. Canadians hold four track records. Hell yes. Other than that, it looks a helluva lot like the Calgary Oval. Afterwards, I drove back to my hostel and walked to the library. It was closed for Martin Luther Kind Jr. Day. Again, I admire the man and his holiday screws me for my affection. I finished the day reading and writing at my hostel. Good day.

Rhys Big, Evil Plan to Take Over the World (a.k.a Rhys' Self-Improvement Year 2013) — Day 1

I arrived in Salt Lake City at 8:30 p.m. It was dark, about -10. I write this sitting in my hostel room. Apparently, the guy who used the room the night before came in at 1 a.m. drunk to the eyeballs and snored so load people heard him through the walls. You can guess my relief when I opened the door and he appeared to be gone. There were two keys for the room and I got one, so the likelihood he is not returning is high. The night is young, though. Attached is a pic of the room. Not bad. Now that we have started at the end, let us return to the beginning and frame this story... I left Calgary at 7 a.m. It was dark, about -10. I took HWY 2 south to Claresholm and then skipped east on the 520 (thanks to Dave Dickenson for the tip). This took me to Lethbridge where I then proceeded to the American border. Before I go on, let me establish that up until now no one has vocalized their displeasure at my life choice. Kind of you all. That is until I reached the United States of America. I passed through the border stop and hand the lady my passport. The usual Q and A ensues. A quick breakdown goes something like this: Q: Where you headed? A: Salt Lake City for the Sundance Film Festival. Q: For work? A: Pleasure. Q: What is your occupation? A: Unemployed. Q: For how long? A: A day... Q: A DAY??? Five minutes later, no joke, I'm inside the building filling out customs forms and the like, essentially justifying my being in the country. Naturally, the guy processing my case is a huge, bearded man with a terrifying pair of Buscemi eyes. A quick breakdown goes something like this: Q: What do you do for work? A: I'm unemployed. Q: Are you in the United States looking for work opportunities? A: Not exactly, no. I plan on working in film so... Q: How long have you been unemployed? A: A day. Q: A DAY??? A: Yes...I quit my job to travel and then find work in film... The man stares at me. A cold, judging stare. The kind of stare he's given maybe a dozen people in his career. The kind of stare a father gives a son when his teenaged son has just told him, 'Dad, my girlfriend and I are getting married.' Q: Most people don't quit their job without work already in line or while actively searching. You can understand how that can be suspicious... A: (I say nothing. At this point, I'm pleading the fifth simply to avoid any more slipups that aren't actually worth it) Q: (long pause) Can you please step inside this room? (He points me to a glass-encased holding room) Is there anything we may find in your vehicle that will get you arrested? A: No. He locks me inside the holding room, takes my keys and I wait. I watch a biased piece on CNN about gun control in the US (how fitting). He returns ten minutes later. He hands me my keys. Q: (long pause) ...What's that blue thing from the Running Room for? A: It's a foam roller. You lay on it to massage muscles. Q: Oh. Ok, off you go. And that was my borderland crossing. The rest of the trip was a cakewalk by comparison. I conservatively filled up on gas twice (on 3/4 empty tank), stopped once for a McD's latte (so superior to our McD offering it hurts), passed 1,892 cars, trucks, and 18-wheelers, saw one hitchhiker do a jig for a ride, alternated my sunglasses half a dozen times, and listened to Bob Dylan's 'Not Dark Yet' as the sun set through Idaho. *sigh* What a day.

Moving On, Moving Forward

Time does not stand still. We only move forward. Whether good or bad things happen to us. Philosophical, I know. I feel it is true. I have spent the last four years of my life dedicated to a certain way — work, study, eat, sleep, work, study, eat, sleep — rinse, repeat. It has been, despite the banality of the description, a wonderful four years. I cannot thank enough my friends and coworkers who have moved in and out of my life over that time. I have learned so much from so many; I can't thank them enough. If there is a lasting image of my career with the Stamps, the quote board may be it. So many memories and wise words...