All Because Robert Redford Started a Film Festival

Robert Redford changed my life.

It was all the way back in 1997 and my friend’s sister heard I was really getting into independent film and was particularly interested in the Sundance Film Festival. Hell, who wasn’t back in 1997? Reservoir Dogs had taken the festival to a new buzzy heights in 1992 and two years later, Clerks made every nerdy film fan think they could make a film and bring it to Park City to the aplomb and adoration of the world. This writer included.

Anyway, my friend’s sister was working for Sundance and let me know that the festival ran on mostly volunteer people power. My cynical self (even back then) said, “oh cool! I can pay for a flight, pay for a hotel and spend 10 days being bossed around by arrogant Hollywood wannabes in the snow! Sign me up!” Yet, truth was back then, the festival put volunteers up in a condo, gave you warm and cozy swag AND a $150 stipend which pretty much covered your flight.

I went and spent the next 10 years volunteering with the Sundance Film Festival as my inverse weather summer camp. I have countless memories and found more inspiration, funny stories and life lessons than I could ever begin to count. But even more importantly, I made lifelong friends who I still talk to and consider my closest friends to this day. All because Robert Redford started a film festival.

I was going to try and name them all, but I really can’t, there’s that many. A few that I do want to mention are Kelly Williams and Zack Phillips, the former of which has gone on to become a pretty fantastic and award-winning indie film producer. One of my dearest friends IRL, Daniel Rosenthal was my condo-mate for at least 5 years alongside a massive group of people that eventually included my sister and ex-wife who I dragged along to the festival as fellow volunteers. Hell, my mom even attended one year. All because Robert Redford started a film festival.

A younger Don Lewis and Alan Rickman

I don’t dare try to name the filmmakers who I saw in their embryonic/mid and last-ditch effort to stay relevant stages. I will say, I had some epic encounters with people like Robert Altman (1999), Faye Dunaway (don’t remember when), William H. Macy (1996) and two different young women on two separate years who were terrified and crying at a party. The first time I asked “what’s the matter? Are you ok?” She said her boss, a famous actor, was a fucking asshole. The next year, different young woman, same situation, same answer and, lo and behold, same asshole actor (for the sake of not piling on and, you know, lawsuits…he was a real Space-case living in a house of cards).

I also met the team at Film Threat at Sundance and talked Chris Gore and, over beer and pizza, talked him into letting me write for them. Through Film Threat at Sundance I met Mark Bell, one of my closest friends (a brother really) and we went to countless film festivals together over many years and all because Robert Redford made a film festival. I have countless film writer friends I met at Sundance like Eric Snider, Eric Kohn, Kate Erbland, Scott Weinberg, Karina Longworth, the late, great and sorely missed James Rocchi and many, many more. All because Robert Redford started a film festival.

Speaking of excellent film writers, I met Melanie Addington, Jessica Baxter, Jim Brunzell and Kim Voynar at Sundance and they’ve all contributed here at Hammer to Nail. Michael Tully who started this very website before allowing me to take the reins I first met at Sundance I think? On and on, endless friends, films, parties, moments, memories. All because Robert Redford started a film festival.

Did I mention I had a film I produced actually play Sundance in 2010? I did! (The Violent Kind, it’s streaming!) and to say that was a surreal, full circle moment for me would be an understatement.

Whew. That was an exhausting trip down memory lane and I hope it wasn’t too “me” focused. I’m merely trying to state the impact one person (and the thousands he employed) changed my life for the better. I figured since there’s so many great articles out there on his onscreen talents already, a personal take might maybe make at least one person realize the massive, snowy peak of meaning Robert Redford gave to so many. I can 100% guarantee thousands more stories like the one I’m telling are out there for everyday cinema lovers and filmmakers.

I could’ve talked about him being a presence on my TV screen my entire life, the rare actor both of my parents seemed to like as well as both sides of their very different families. On and on, Robert Redford was a legend and an icon.

Chris Gore and a poorly fashioned Don Lewis

As I close out my tip of the cap to “Bob,” (oh shit! I forgot to mention the one time I met him at Sundance! It was in a parking garage, I said “Hi Mr. Redford, thanks for making a great festival.” He nodded at me. Scene.) here’s a very nice tribute from Jonathan Marlow, HtN contributor extraordinaire and Executive Director of the amazing Scarecrow Video:

Robert Redford was one-of-too-few (and even in that, unique in his persistent pursuits). He was a risk-taker for the right causes. His interest, encouragement and support of Native American art-making and filmmaking alone would be sufficient for sustained praise. Yet there was much, much more. The Sundance Institute, though the most visible, was merely one-of-many.

I spoke with him on a handful of occasions in Park City but I was never able to know him. Who truly knows anyone? Yet you could see in his remarkable son his greatness as a parent and as a person. No measure of a man matters more.

This definitely marks the end of an era of individuals who could effectively take their celebrity and put that (and its associated resources) to grand use. There really isn’t a single individual in our generation or after—try as they might—who has been able to achieve the same.

 And to close this out, here’s a lovely tribute from HtN contributor Melanie Addington:

Without Sundance — and without Robert Redford — the film festival industry as we know it simply wouldn’t exist. That’s not an overstatement. For many of us, this little mountain-town gathering grew into something that shaped our careers, our communities, and our lives.

I’ve had paid jobs because of Sundance. Many of us have. But it was never just about the work. Through this festival, we found lasting friendships, creative collaborators, mentors, even love. Park City became a place where dreams felt tangible — where standing in the right line, attending the right screening, or walking into the right afterparty could change your path forever.

And yet, it would be dishonest not to acknowledge the full complexity of what the festival grew into. There were shadows — the ugly truths, the power imbalances, the notorious Weinstein parties that tainted what should have been sacred space. Sundance was not immune to the darker side of the industry.

But Redford himself always felt like a true north. He wasn’t chasing profit or attention. He invested in more — in voices unheard, in stories that mattered, in filmmakers who didn’t fit the mold. He believed in the power of storytelling as a human necessity, not just an industry product. And that belief radiated through Sundance in its best moments.

I met Redford once, by accident. He was getting out of his car for a CNN interview. It was brief, but perfect — one of those right-place, right-time experiences that only ever seemed to happen in Park City. For so many friends, they got so much more of the man. But even from the outside, his warmth radiated. 

Now, as the festival enters its final climb this January, it feels right that Redford is closing this chapter with us. There’s something poetic about it. He helped us see that storytelling could be something sacred — and reminded us that when we invest in each other, the world changes.

For everything that’s come from that small seed he planted in Utah, we owe him more than thanks. We owe him the stories we continue to tell.

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