The answer is pretty simple. Sundance has become important. Over the years, it has developed from a pleasant little festival in a winter resort town into an unwieldy mammoth. Critics who have been attending for a lot longer than I have regale me with nostalgic stories of how they would ski all morning, then wander into theaters for late-afternoon and night screenings. These days, the idea of anyone doing anything but scurrying from theater-to-theater and elbowing their way through crowds is hard to comprehend. For film makers, Sundance used to be about having the chance to exhibit a movie; now, it's about having the chance to sell it and cash in on the flow of money.

There are some instances when snow and cold weather are nice. The middle of a film festival does not qualify as one of those. It can become very messy when slogging from one theater to another in this kind of weather. Few things are less enjoyable than sitting for two hours in a movie theater while dressed in wet clothing. And, since I'm not a cold weather person by nature, the climatological conditions in Park City serve only to amplify my ill-will.

Everyone tells me how friendly the people are in Utah, but, at least for 10 days in January, geniality goes out the window. Locals are understandably irritated by the influx of uncouth out-of-towners, and those who fly in bring their New York or Los Angeles mindset with them. Volunteers are more likely to snarl at you than offer any help. No one seems to care about seeing movies; it's all some sort of twisted game about one-upping the person next to you. It can be amusing - such as an instance last year when I watched a pair of low-level agents sparring with each other by name-dropping - but, for the most part, it's tiring. And then there are the cell phones... If you don't have one, you have no chance of being taken seriously by anyone. (This year, I brought mine just for show. I don't actually plan to use it, but it has a prop value.)

Of course, being a lowly Internet critic, I had no chance of getting press accreditation from Sundance (unlike at Toronto, where they seem to value the involvement of the on-line critics in the press corps). So I had to buy tickets like everyone else. That particular ordeal is emblematic of the entire Sundance experience - frustrating, time-consuming, and, in the end, not fulfilling. It starts out on a Monday morning, about two weeks before the festival. Screenings sell out fast, so not getting through on the first day means defaulting to second or third choices (at best). Calling in means getting a busy signal. *66 (auto-redial) doesn't work; US WEST in the Park City/Salt Lake City area doesn't support it. This year, when I finally got through after hours of trying, I was informed that the computer was down, so they couldn't process any orders - call back. Three hours later, when I tried, I was informed that all of the circuits were busy. Eventually, I got through, only to learn that there was a 20 ticket limit per order - not nearly enough to populate my entire schedule. That meant going through the whole procedure a second time. (In all fairness, the woman who took my order - someone named Heather - was both helpful and pleasant.) Whoever designed this process should submit themselves for a voluntary psychiatric evaluation.

When it comes to the actual films, Sundance has been lowering the quality bar for the past several years. When I go to a festival, I never expect a string of 4-star movies, but I like to see things that are different, challenging, and entertaining. With Sundance, the trend is towards banality and commercialism - after all, it's less of a festival than a marketplace. That's why a half-dozen satellite festivals (like Slamdance) have sprung up around Sundance. They feed off of its success, with organizers often pulling outrageous stunts to draw interest to themselves.

Frequently, the best films are found out of competition. Last year, a little-ballyhooed Spanish movie called Open Your Eyes turned out to be the best thing I saw (it's slated for limited North American distribution beginning this April). Things likely won't be any different this year. To start out, here's a look at two non-competition entries. Neither is extraordinary, but both are at least worth the price of admission. The first, Praise is a flawed but courageous film from Australia that will never find a major U.S. distributor. The second, The 24-Hour Woman is slated for national release in about three weeks.

• The basic story of Praise, from first-time director John Curran, is fairly simple. A laid-back, chain-smoking asthmatic named Gordon (Peter Fenton) becomes involved with Cynthia (Sacha Horler, who gives a stunning performance), a nymphomaniac afflicted with severe eczema. From the start, their co-dependent relationship is not healthy, but, as the gulf between their sexual needs widens, they begin to grate on one another. It is clear from the beginning that the more interesting of the two protagonists is Cynthia. So, when the tail end of Praise decides to focus on the less-fascinating Gordon, the resulting anticlimax causes the movie to sputter to a halt.

  Despite the lackluster ending, Praise is still a powerful and occasionally disturbing experience. It's the kind of thing I like to see at film festivals, because, even though it's not fully satisfying, it's offbeat and challenging. Praise certainly won't be playing in any multiplexes, although it may eventually find its way into a few North American art houses. The reason for the limited distribution is obvious: the sex scenes, while not pornographic, are explicit, and there's no way that the film could get away with anything less restrictive than an NC-17.

  Most movies, especially mainstream ones, like to tap-dance around sexual issues for fear of offending a puritanical audience. Praise attacks these issues head-on by illustrating the kinds of sexual trade-offs that have to be endured for a relationship to work. In this case, it's the woman who has the sexually voracious appetite and the man who is passive, but the patterns would be similar if the circumstances were reversed. Praise is as honest emotionally at it is when dealing with sexual issues - it doesn't lather on the melodrama to make its point. It is compelling precisely because it stays focused on the characters. And actors Horler and Fenton act and look like real people - they don't have model-perfect bodies, which adds to the movie's sense of authenticity.

• Far less controversial or challenging is Nancy Savoca's The 24-Hour Woman, a dramatic comedy that examines the career vs. care plight of a new mother, and takes a few calculated swipes at the TV industry in the process. However, although this film is in many ways a polar opposite to Praise (it's mainstream-friendly), the two films share an unfortunate trait: a bad ending. While Praise trickles to a halt, The 24-Hour Woman concludes with a spectacular blunder. Still, the rest of the picture is good enough that it's not hard to overlook the final flaw.

  A pleasantly-subdued Rosie Perez plays Grace, the producer of a successful New York morning program, "The 24-Hour Woman." When her husband, Eddie (Diego Serrano), one of the program's hosts, announces on camera that his wife is pregnant, Grace becomes an instant celebrity, with the pregnancy becoming an on-air event. After having the baby, however, Grace finds that returning to work isn't easy. She's worried about leaving her daughter with the nanny, and her husband, who's off auditioning for movie roles, isn't much help.

  Although The 24-Hour Woman deals with some serious issues, Savoca wisely maintains a feather-light tone. For most of the running length, we're presented with a study in contrasts between the high-strung Grace and her low key assistant, Madeline (played by Marianne Jean-Baptiste). On one hand, there's Grace, the first-time mother with an absentee husband who can't find enough hours in the day for her job and her child. On the other hand, there's Madeline, who has three children and a caring husband, and who manages the juggling act that Grace strives for. In the end, according to Savoca, motherhood is all about compromise and sacrifice. [For a full-length review of this movie, click here.]

© 1999 James Berardinelli