Sundance Film Festival got a boost from 'sex, lies, and videotape'

Heading into the 1989 Sundance Film Festival -- back then known as the Utah/U.S. Film Festival -- Steven Soderbergh harbored no illusions about setting the film world on fire with his debut feature, "sex, lies, and videotape." Upon arrival in Park City, the writer-director had so little faith in its landing theatrical distribution he decided to skip promoting his "dialogue-laden talkudrama" and instead posed as a festival volunteer, chauffeuring the likes of Jodie Foster in a shuttle van rather than networking with studio execs.

"We had very low expectations," Soderbergh recalled. "I was hoping the film would be a resume piece; it would get shown and I could meet some people and maybe get another job."

Instead, in a turn of events that has since become the festival's boilerplate success story, "sex, lies, and videotape" became the first Sundance sensation that went on to revolutionize American independent cinema. Snapped up by Miramax, the $1.2-million movie took in nearly $25 million at the box office. In the process, it inspired a generation of underground moviemakers, opened Hollywood's eyes to the commercial viability of indie movies and established Sundance as America's vanguard showcase for quality cutting-edge film.

Now, on the eve of Sundance's 25th anniversary -- which kicks off tonight with a screening of the Claymation feature "Mary and Max" and will feature a commemorative screening of "sex, lies, and videotape" on Monday -- North America's most high-profile, celebrity-packed, hyped-up and slagged-off indie film fest remains a beacon. Even at a time when the number of studio specialty divisions and "mini-studios" devoted to independent movies has drastically withered, Sundance remains a filmmakers' dream factory that has helped manufacture the careers of a who's who of respected directors.

"You go in cloaked in anonymity and with your future a huge question mark," Soderbergh said. "You come out of the end of it and people know your movie and are asking, 'What do you want to do now?' "

Writer-director Kevin Smith worked as a New Jersey Quik Stop convenience store clerk until his low-budget 1994 comedy, "Clerks," went over big at Sundance. He largely credits his career to its exposure. "It kicked open doors and started relationships I retain to this day," Smith said. "It was basically me showing up in Utah and the Mormon God saying, 'I am going to grant you every wish you ever had, including some you never thought of.' "