I check my phone on the way to our dinner and party. The tweets and reviews are already flooding in. They are totally polarizied, and though I am completely happy with how the film played my heart starts to sink just a bit when I read a particularly mean tweet.
Over the next few days I see a lot of old friends, a few movies that I love, a few that I hate, and in the end not nearly enough. Some folks and I go to the wrong theater fairly hungover for a 9 a.m. screening and end up sitting though a movie we don’t want to see. It was unfortunate.
I go to a great party and run into an editor acquaintance of mine. We chat for a moment until he shuffles off quickly, saying something about the altitude, jet leg and having to go to bed early. An hour or so later I run into him at the bar waiting for a drink. I smile as warmly as possible. I’m ready to go back home to New York, I think to myself.
The reviews trickle in over the next few days. I read most of them. It’s a pretty even split with people who love the film and people who hate it (some of them almost absurdly so). On the way back to the airport I overhear some people in the same shuttle talking about “Simon.” They call it the “most polarizing film of the festival,” but neither of them has seen it.
The day I arrive back home, “Simon Killer” sells to IFC. It’s great news and though I am pleased to be back to my regular life, a part of me is sorry that I’m not looking out over Park City and celebrating.