Before I get started, I want to comment on the gentleman I saw today standing on the side of the road holding a sign that said, "I have stories. Come talk to me." My response: Why would anyone want to listen to *you*? With that out of my system, back to my blog.
We did manage to make it to a movie last night after I signed off. The movie was Ghosts, about the plight of illegal immigrants in London (see review). All in all, a good opener even if we got chastised going in because we were holding Starbucks cups. My defense: I drink tea and it all tastes the same in coffee shops. I can't feel too badly about it, though as I was able to pick up the latest album by The Decemberists which I learned about from the dashing and gallant Andy Donnelly on CKUA. Further proof that it is the greatest radio station on earth.
A very successful third day at Sundance. Started the day with no movies on our slate and here I am three movies enriched. The movies in question:
- Tuli: A movie from the Philippines. The title means circumsion in the Philippines. I did *not* know that going in. (review)
- Nanking: Documentary about what happened in the former Chinese capital in the days following Japan's occupation in 1937. (review)
- Teeth: Picture in your mind what a movie named Teeth would be about. You're wrong. I guarantee it. (review)
Salt Lake City is a navigator's dream. Streets a minimum of three lanes wide each way not including an angled-parking lane and a full median. And a numbering system that foregoes street and avenue names in favour of actual directions. A typical address: 700 South 500 West. That means it's on the corner of 700 South and 500 West. It is left as an exercise for the reader to determine where 700 South and 500 West are. Another plus: heat lamps at the bus stops. Someone is counting with all ten fingers out here.
Park City on the other hand is just plain bizarre. From the lady spewing passages from a film critic textbook to the guy barbecuing on his patio in his underwear (in this case, purple briefs...and nothing else), I'm feeling very much from another planet when I wander out there.
Oh, there are plenty of friendlies. We had a nice chat with two ladies behind the concession stand when they accused my brother and I of being brothers:
She: "Are you two brothers?"
Me: "Yes, ma'am. My name's Joel. This here's my brother Ethan."
Not much else happened today other than the movies so I'll talk a bit about Priceline from whom we purchased our hotel and rental car. I shan't be using them again. Not that I don't think they do fine work, which I do. But the low prices you pay come with a price. As I travel more, I find flexibility to be more important than saving a buck or two.
And flexibility is not a word you will hear in Priceline's ads. Once booked, your hotel is set in stone. And what's more, you don't even know what hotel you are getting until you have agreed to the terms. You have to prepay the bill and there are no refunds. And I gather the hotels aren't too fond of Priceline because even the most minute questions and requests (like can I have a remote control that works) are almost always answered: You'll have to take that up with Priceline.
Which is not to imply that I dislike the Shilo Inn. Like I've already said, great place. (Holy CRAP, their hot tub is HUGE!) Certainly more accommodating than the hotel we move to next week, The Peery Hotel. Seems Priceline assumed that when we said there were two people coming, we were a couple. And readers, I have not slept in the same bed as my brother since I was six years old at my grandparents house. Shilo Inn? No problem, we'll move you to a new room. Peery Hotel? Welllll, maaaaaaybe we can get you one of those rollaway cots stuffed with straw harvested during the Civil War that smells vaguely of goat piss. But you'd better check with Priceline.
And I don't have high hopes for free Internet or a hot tub there either.