Sundance, Park City, Utah

"These are, as one distributor blurted out to me seconds after saying hello, “tumultuous times” in the movie business. No kidding. On the eve of Sundance three more movie critics joined the ranks of the unemployed, including Ella Taylor, a longtime and well-respected critic for The LA Weekly in Los Angeles. And earlier this week Warner Brothers Entertainment — which last year dismantled three of its specialty divisions, Warner Independent Pictures, Picturehouse and New Line Cinema — announced that it was laying off an additional 800 workers.

For independent cinema, which relies on reviewers to get the word out because they don’t have money to buy their opening weekends, the thinning of the critical ranks is no small thing. The specter of the big studios getting out of the indie business presents a more ambivalent problem, one put into relief by the festival’s silver anniversary and the presence of Steven Soderbergh at this year’s event.

In 1989, Mr. Soderbergh helped put Sundance on the world cinema map with his debut feature, “sex, lies and videotape.” That spring the movie was at Cannes, where it won the Palme d’Or (beating out “Do the Right Thing,” among other titles). A hungry little outfit called Miramax Films swooped down and grabbed it.

Three years later, Miramax was bought by Disney. Soon every big studio that did not have a boutique division opened one. Prices for independently financed movies skyrocketed. Harvey Weinstein became a media fixture, Quentin Tarantino became a rock star, and Parker Posey and Zooey Deschanel became Indie It Girls, while character actors like Sam Rockwell and Paul Giamatti became headliners. Sundance veterans like Bryan Singer, Christopher Nolan and Mr. Soderbergh signed on for blockbuster duty. Sponsors like Entertainment Weekly (and The New York Times) slapped their brand on the event, and the crowds poured in as the festival chatter shifted from questions of art to matters of industry. For 10 days a year, Sundance turned into Hollywood in the snow, and real independent spirit seemed on the wane.

The industry was still in attendance this year, but the high-roller fever that has gripped the festival for the last decade has cooled. Although this made for the most pleasant Sundance in memory, it also presents a host of unknowns. If the studios don’t buy independent films, fewer investors in turn may be inclined to bankroll projects, particularly those with bigger budgets. Yet it is precisely those movies with heftier budgets, and the glossier production values and marquee-ready performers that can come with those budgets — like the ready-made entertainment and 2006 Sundance success story “Little Miss Sunshine” — that distributors believe can help bring in the increasingly finicky audience. If the investors don’t invest and the buyers don’t buy, will the movies still be made, and what kind?

Films with no-name actors are a tough sell, as is anything considered too arty, brainy, bleak or dark, which is why much of the best work produced today either goes without American distribution or is released by smaller companies that don’t require huge returns. This was true when “sex, lies and videotape” hit, and it may be even truer now. That doesn’t mean that you won’t see some of the best work from this year’s Sundance, including “Unmade Beds,” “Big Fan,” “Big River Man” and “In the Loop,” but it might mean that you’ll see these titles only if you live in a large city, or when (if) they’re released on DVD. That is, if someone picks them up for American distribution."

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