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Photo By Steve Ramos
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Sundance Film Festival founder Robert Redford says
he's concerned about the current political climate's
effect on filmmakers' creative freedom.
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PARK CITY, UTAH -- The one question veteran actor and Sundance Institute founder Robert Redford is currently asked most often is the one he refuses to answer: What do you think about the impending war with Iraq?
"I'm not going to talk about it," Redford says, speaking during a Jan. 19 interview at a local hotel. "I'm afraid it might become the focus of why I'm here."
Redford normally stays out of the spotlight during the independent film festival he helped create some 20 years ago. He's often made it clear that he doesn't want to take away the spotlight from the filmmakers in attendance.
This year, Redford has decided to speak out publicly about things that are weighing heavily on his mind. At the Jan. 16 opening-night screening in Salt Lake City, he took to the stage to introduce the premiere film Levity, writer/director Ed Solomon's drama about an ex-convict trying to adjust to society after spending 22 years in prison. He reminded the audience what the Sundance mission is about.
"Why are we here?" he asked. "Twenty-three years ago, this (Sundance Institute) was started to create a mechanism to let artists work free of the pressure of commercial dogma. ... I thought if this doesn't work or it becomes irrelevant or there's no need for it, then I'll stop."
On Jan. 19, Redford takes part in a press conference announcing the launch of the Sundance Film Series, a four-film theatrical tour planned for the fall in 10 cities across the United States. Afterward, he slips to a nearby room.
His lunch is placed on a table in front of him, but Redford shows no sign of stopping to eat. Politics are clearly weighing on his mind, and he wants to emphasize the connection between Sundance and the world around it.
"I think there is a little nervousness out there about the political climate undermining freedom of expression," he says. "So to emphasize the relationship between freedom of expression and independent film is important to do.
"I think because of the political climate we're in, there is an indication out there that someone who does what I think is the democratic way -- which is to raise questions, challenge questions, to ask for debate, which is part of the democratic process or should be -- that person is considered unpatriotic. I think this is dangerous to freedom of expression."
The crowds of press, filmmakers and film industry employees are back to their usual bulk at this year's Sundance Film Festival, the 10-day showcase of independent film that's become the nation's preeminent film festival. It's a welcome change from last year, when fears over the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks kept many away.
Picturesque Park City is busting at the seams with hats, buttons and assorted souvenirs promoting festival films. Local hangouts like the Bad-Ass Coffee House quickly become part of the Sundance publicity machine.
The country is in economic doldrums, but a flurry of festival deal-making has brought extra attention to the line-up of 129 feature films. The Cooler, a Las Vegas romance staring William H. Macy, was purchased by Lion's Gate. The United States of Leland, a slick drama about a troubled teen-age boy arrested for murder, was bought by Paramount Classics.
These films are guaranteed the chance of reaching audiences outside the Park City bubble, although it's too early to tell if they'll become break-out hits on the scale of The Blair Witch Project, which sold at Sundance in 1999 for less than $1 million and went on to earn more than $142 million in theaters.
Sundance is a place for comebacks and reinventing one's public persona. In writer/director Peter Hedges' comic drama Pieces of April, TV actress Katie Holmes plays a punky twentysomething who tries to reconnect with her estranged mother by hosting a Thanksgiving dinner at her East Village apartment.
Al Pacino plays a rag-tag New York press agent at the end of his career in People I Know.
Actor Robert Downey Jr. arrives here hoping to put his series of drug arrests behind him with a starring role in the feature adaptation of Dennis Potter's 1986 TV miniseries The Singing Detective. Downey plays low-rent crime novelist Dan Dark, who suffers from elaborate hallucinations while hospitalized for crippling psoriasis.
Redford is experiencing his own comeback of sorts. He says it's time to emphasize his acting day job.
He plans to direct and star in a sequel to his 1972 film The Candidate. The first draft of the screenplay has been completed, and Warner Bros., which released the original film, has committed to produce the new one.
Redford says that his Candidate sequel will be a dark comedy like the original. It will also have something to say about the current state of American politics. What it won't be is a piece of propaganda.
"I think it (Candidate sequel) should be humorous," Redford says. "The original was comedic, although it was certainly dark. But I have a strong feeling about film propaganda. The principal purpose is to entertain. If you have a message -- whether personal, political or cultural -- it should be contained within the framework of entertainment."
Media coverage continues to emphasize Sundance deal-making, and there are a number of filmmakers and artists who complain about the festival's lack of an official marketplace for the buying and selling of films.
Redford seldom speaks about the business of Sundance, except to emphasize the fund-raising challenges of the past year.
On this morning, he has a higher agenda in mind. He wants to emphasize the relationship between independent film and what he sees as newfound threats on American freedom of expression. He says he's spoken to young filmmakers over the past few days and they've shared their concerns about failing to find funding for their films during an economic recession.
During this year's festival, Redford has chosen to step forward in his role as the Sundance spokesperson and attach his well-known face to these concerns. It's unusual for him, something he doesn't plan to do again.
"This is it for me, because I'm concentrating on work this year," he says. "I feel the festival is at a place where it can run on its own. I don't know if there's a need for me unless it's to make some statement of one kind or another or to remind people why we're here." ©
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