Mark Pogachefsky

The gig: Co-president of the high-powered Los Angeles public relations firm mPRm. Pogachefsky, 49, has helped guide the promotion of some of the most memorable independent films, including "sex, lies, and videotape" in 1989 as well as two films with Oscar hopes this year, "Milk" and "The Visitor." He and business partner Rachel McCallister oversee a 40-person shop from their penthouse suite on Wilshire Boulevard.

The gig: Co-president of the high-powered Los Angeles public relations firm mPRm. Pogachefsky, 49, has helped guide the promotion of some of the most memorable independent films, including "sex, lies, and videotape" in 1989 as well as two films with Oscar hopes this year, "Milk" and "The Visitor." He and business partner Rachel McCallister oversee a 40-person shop from their penthouse suite on Wilshire Boulevard.

Q: I work at a small production company, and last week, I went to a screening for an independent movie. The director was there, and right afterward, he cornered a few of us to see what we thought. He was really aggressive. I thought the film was pretty weak and predictable and said something vague about the costumes and production design. He glared at me. What do you say to a director if you see his movie and think it's lame? Should I have been more positive and lied? -- M.F.

As the Sundance Film Festival 2000 opens this week, the people who acquire films for distributors like Miramax, Fine Line Features and Fox Searchlight find themselves in exactly the same position as last year--with one crazy-making difference. This year, like last year, precisely 89 of the festival's 115 feature films are for sale (the 26 others already have distribution).

Whenever Hollywood rolls out a big movie, studio publicity machines kick into high gear, staging junkets for the press at which actors, directors and frequently producers are paraded to hype the film. Almost always missing from the junkets, however, are those whose inspiration and work provided the genesis of the movie: the screenwriters.

"The first time I saw 'Sweet Smell of Success,' " recalls Bobby Zarem, "I thought about suicide. I thought, 'Good God! Is this the life I've carved out for myself?' " A corrosive portrait of the toxic, borderline sadomasochistic relationship between J.J.

Walter Josten and Steven Leibovitz both live in Los Angeles and work in the movie industry. Josten is a partner in Blue Rider Pictures, a producer of low-budget films, and Leibovitz is the manager of entertainment lending at Comerica Bank. Until 12 days ago, when they boarded the same plane for France, they had never met. Now they're in business together, nearing agreement for Comerica to provide a loan to produce "Silver Wolf," a $3.