In attempt to get myself as much good press as humanly possible, I will be writing a little daily piece here telling my story, my failures and triumphs, and all the hell and happiness that is my experience with my film “Monday” in Park City this year. Already an outsider, being at Slamdance rather than Sundance, I figure what better way to really seal my outcast status by walking FilmThreat readers through all the mistakes I’m about to make while hiking up and down Main Street.

PARK CITY – January 23rd

Wound up in a hotel lobby with 5 boys I’d just met, til 2am, who were all interested in doing something I’d probably rather not know about with my lead actress and my DP last night.

Let’s backtrack.

If you’ve never been up here during this week you’ve probably never heard that Park City is fertile ground for, well, sex. When the screenings are over, and the first parties of the night are slow and projects have already been pitched and discussed, the alcohol/cold kicks up some urges that people wouldn’t normally act on. Let me be clear though, having had one of these experiences (long before I was married, don’t get confused), I can say from my own past that what happens in Park City does not stay in Park City. In fact, it follows you home, and then to your agency, and out on your meetings, and even onto the set if you’re that unlucky. Not that this isn’t necessarily a good thing, if the incident was somehow noteworthy.

Last night was definitely a sure sign that sex-minded people still walk the back halls at the parties in this little mountain town.

Hit Main Street at 1pm, which was hard to do with all the morning junk I had to take care of on-line. Quickly ran into a producer I’d worked with in the past, whom I’m thinking would be an amazing match for a project I have. Hung out in the Sundance Lounge for probably too long, as my associate producers Kurt Hahn and Chip Hale and friend John Artigo quickly grew bored.

Ran into Michael Rapaport with a gang of good-looking filmmakers, there was a rumble between our gangs. His won. Humiliated my own gang by introducing them as my “team” which I had to apologize for shortly thereafter, which I don’t blame them for being upset about.

Michael has always been supportive as I’ve seen him over the years. He’d read something of mine a hundred years ago and become friends with the ex a little, and he’s not only adorable but has a sense of humor and honesty that I don’t think can be rivaled. I’ve been trying to come up with a way to work with him for the last ten years, long before he was the Indie/Studio/TV Powerhouse he is now. Shortly after he did Zebrahead, in fact. One of these days something will hit…can I say enough a*s-kissing stuff about him? No. I just think he’s great.

Hit the Sundance Store. The boys in the group got bored and took off. We didn’t see them for the rest of the night, although I’m sure they were still hard at work meeting young girls and inviting them to our screening. We have a sneaking suspicion that they managed to bring some home last night as we drove by in the middle of the night and saw them through their window all still sitting in the living room. These boys are not the hang out and talk about the day kind of boys, so there must have been a reason why they were all sitting in the living room together.

Went to the VW shack. Free stuff. Went to the TMI, tix still selling. Checked in with Slamdance. Went back and emailed the peeps I want to come to the screening on Tuesday and then headed out to the WGA party.

This is where I started to notice my girls Ele and Alice were getting entirely too much attention. Granted, these are hot smart girls, but aside from that the festival has been going on long enough now that people are feeling a little more comfortable, a little more flirty, and probably a little more drunk. And for some reason most of this was aimed at Alice and Ele.

We hit the Foto-Kem/Hollywood Reporter/Fujii party next. Early enough that massages, manicures, and tarot card readings could be had. And then Alice and I sank into a huge love sack and just talked to people who came by. More boys seemed to find the girls here, and we couldn’t leave for hours, as half the time I couldn’t find them, half the time I’d thought they’d been abducted, and the third half the time I’d run into old friends and fans of “Chi Girl”. All of whom are coming to the screenings. At one point Ken Kokin laid on me and kissed my neck. Word to the wise, don’t let Ken Kokin see you’re laying on a love sack.

Attempted to go to the Seattle party. But were too late. Attempted to go to the Slamdance party, but it was 10 bucks and looked like people were just into staring at the stage. A room of catatonic filmmakers holding beer bottles.

On the way home, and trying to calm down, Ele’s phone started to ring. One of the many callers had a party that was still going on. We tried to find it, but couldn’t, and as Ele’s phone continued to ring I realized we weren’t going to be going home any time soon.

Wound up in a hotel lobby for hours while several boy filmmakers drooled over the girls like they were the Weinsteins holding checks and first look deals.

By 2am the boys realized the girls don’t pay, and there weren’t going to be any first looks, or second, or third.

Today should be mellower, and I can go back to my mantra…

All I want is to sell my little movie and make more – All I want is to – uh huh…

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