PARK CITY, Utah — Unless you've been to Sundance, you're probably blissfully unaware that the real action at this indie festival has almost nothing to do with the movies.
The passive act of watching a film in a darkened auditorium can't be called "action" (in any noncinematic sense of the word). And while closed-door bargaining sessions certainly result in big-ticket acquisitions -- such as Fox Searchlight's purchase of "Little Miss Sunshine" for a record $10.5 million -- they usually take place in condominiums, tucked away from public view.
There is no shortage of boisterous open-bar parties. But for the kind of kinetic hustle and flow that has come to characterize Sundance, swag suites are where the action -- and most of the celebrities -- can be found.
Sealed With A Gift. Stuff We Acquired Gratis. Stuff We All Get. The pursuit of swag -- as promotional gifts with some vague, synergistic branding tie-in to a media event have come to be known -- is a full-contact sport in Sundance. "I'm going on a swag hunt" is the refrain you hear again and again. Or as a headline in Park City's Park Record put it this week, "Main Street looks like a 'trade show.'"
Swag lounges throughout town fete the famous, offering them spa treatments, designer booze and valuable goodies. Done correctly, almost any next-big-thing filmmaker, D-list celeb or one of their savvy hangers-on could easily pull in tens of thousands of dollars of luxury merchandise over the festival's 10-day span.
To get to the truth of the underground Sundance economy, an intrepid Times reporter -- a nobody among somebodies -- boldly attempted to discover how much swag one could collect in six hours spread out over two days. The yield: more than two dozen products and services with a monetary value of $11,326.89. At the conclusion of the experiment, everything was given to charity (or in some cases, eaten or drunk).
The hunt begins
First stop: the Philips Simplicity Lounge. Earlier this week, Chazz Palminteri, who appears in "A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints," in competition here, browsed among various baby monitors, flat-screen TVs and home defibrillator kits -- yes, the paddle contraption used to jump-start a faltering heart is "branding" at Sundance.
The swag bag included a Norelco Bodygroom -- that is, a "manscaping" razor that effectively denuded a kiwi fruit during a demonstration -- worth about $28, a Shoqbox portable MP3/WMA player/FM radio ($129.99) and an Aurelle LED candle ($19.95).
Up the street, the Self Magazine Ultimate Luxury Lounge & Spa offered a baroque array of conspicuous consumables.
Podfitness.com, a new company selling downloadable exercise regimens from celebrity workout gurus, handed out a three-month subscription (value: $59.85). Pink, a subsidiary line of Victoria's Secret, threw in a pair of Bling PJ Lounger sweatpants with the brand's logo emblazoned across the derriere ($68). And Kroll Vodka served chilled cocktails (value: $16 each). Several publicists noted that Terrence Howard, a festival jury member, had been photographed as he downed one such drink at 10:30 a.m. (The actor also received a wireless PDA device from a company named after a fruit. It will go unnamed here after a publicist declined to aid a reporter's investigation.)
Further down the hall, up-and-coming active-wear company Five Four proffered a zippered sweatshirt ($86), So La Vie Skin/Hair System parceled out two bottles of hair/body wash ($30 each) -- a fave swag item for Jennifer Aniston, the publicist said -- and nearby, Blue Marlin offered a Negro Leagues replica baseball cap ($35) and a T-shirt with the logo "Vito Corleone Loan Services" ($35). Aaron Eckhart, who appears in the festival entry "Thank You for Smoking," had collected one earlier.
According to Nekeda Newell Hall, director of entertainment marketing for Diesel Footwear, the upside of hosting a swag suite is that such gift-giving circumvents the need to advertise.
"Our culture is driven by celebrity. Who's wearing what?" she explained from her station at the Fred Segal lounge. "When we come to celebrities on their turf, that's effective brand exposure. What we can accomplish in three or four days here would normally take three or four months."
And with that, she handed out a pair of Pony City Wings Low sneakers ($75).
Across the room, the Frederick's of Hollywood booth gave away lacy unmentionables in crayon colors: two Brazilian Lace Cami & Boy Short sets (in black and blue, $34 each), and two Modal Chemises ($28 each) and three pairs of Cameron Lace Boy Shorts ($6 each).
A publicist who asked not to be named for fear of running afoul of her boss explained one of the unwritten secrets of the swag suite. If the swag hunter is told that "inventory is running low" and the product will be shipped to them later, that should be translated as: "You are not famous enough, so don't hold your breath waiting for freebies."