This Side of the Pond

Half a century after Robert Redford proved he's a real-life outlaw when he grabbed our name and rode right out of town, the real Sundance has finally been represented at the festival he used it for.

A brief recap if you missed my last column: I was accidentally invited to the NFP Inspire Lounge at the Sundance Film Festival – the kind of VIP area that's supposed to be for movie stars, producers and celebrity press.

I did my best to explain that I wasn't who they thought I was, but it didn't seem to faze them.

In fact, the more I tried to make it clear that I have little to do with Hollywood, the more they seemed to want me to go. First they put me on the master guest list, then they said I could bring my assistant.

What's a reporter to do? It's about time someone from the real, original Sundance got an invite.

I felt a certain obligation to represent you, the real Sundance community, and let all these Hollywood types know that we still exist, no matter how hard Mr. Redford tries.

And so, I rounded up my trusted travel companion, who shall henceforth be officially titled Autumn Cook, Adventure Assistant. We were telling the truth about my need for assistance, as I'd be somewhere in Nebraska right now if she hadn't been in charge of the itinerary and I forgot to pack a few mildly important items, such as toothpaste.

Nor were we lying about my plans to write about the experience, because here we are right now, chatting about what it's like to be a VIP. I'm just not certain it's the kind of coverage they expected.

By the time the festival began, the trip had taken on a life of its own. As well as plenty of encouragement from people I'd have bet the ranch would tell me it was a crazy idea, I spent the two days beforehand at the Wyoming Press Association's annual convention. The news, as you can imagine in a room full of journalists, spread like wildfire.

With the hopes of the whole state now behind us, we set off for the picture-perfect ski resort of Park City, with its pretty storefronts and the kind of snow that looks like it's been added as a finishing touch.

I was sure we'd be turned away at the door even as they handed us our passes. This was partly because the badges said "Talent", and I'm still not convinced that's a term used for journalists.

But up the stairs we went, and into a wonderland of misadventure.

The lounge was packed with vendors hoping to impress us enough for a write-up; journalists discussing all the fancy parties they'd been invited to and the terrible task of choosing between them; one or two celebs; photographers whose main task appeared to be constantly messing with the lighting; endless staff members in matching winter sweaters; and...well...us.

As we weren't quite sure of Hollywood mingling protocols, we headed straight for the oxygen bar. This is a trend I thought had died out a decade ago, but is apparently still the fashion at high altitudes.

Perhaps because I'd only gone up in the world metaphorically, I wasn't really in need of help with my breathing, although Adventure Assistant very much enjoyed her giant compression boots.

It didn't take us long to realize the lounge was packed with swag. We managed to secure hats and gloves representing the lounge, a ball cap with the logo of Jason Momoa's new Meili vodka brand (we also tried a Bloody Mary made with the first batch) and bottles of his Mananalu water and a bag of skincare from the Beverly Hills Rejuvenation Center.

We could also have had free Botox sessions from the latter, had we been so inclined. This was when I truly realized how far from Wyoming we'd wandered.

If you're not familiar, Botox is an injection that freezes your face to get rid of lines and wrinkles – popular with actors, though I've always thought it's something of a golf handicap for a bunch of people whose only job is to make facial expressions.

A lovely chap sat with us after he came out of the room, sporting two red bumps on his forehead that were quickly growing into devil horns. He warned us that we probably shouldn't partake, because once you start you must renew every nine months and it gets less effective each time.

He assured us that we don't need it yet and said we should wait as long as we can. We nodded sagely as though we'd had the slightest intention of letting someone stab us in the forehead.

Nor did we partake of the other shots on offer. Apparently, it's perfectly normal to whip down your pants in the middle of a Hollywood party so that a stranger can inject vitamin D into your butt cheek.

On the other hand, we did greatly enjoy the two gentlemen from Wanna Cin, a Salt Lake City bakery that specializes in cinnamon buns. Nothing made these two happier than when someone accepted a free bun, so they spent the majority of their time chasing people around with napkins.

At one point, Adventure Assistant joined a line for the bathroom and the more enthusiastic of this duo asked if she wanted a bun while she waited. Though they truly were delicious, she did not.

At the back of the lounge, we came across a man who makes "socially responsible rope footwear" called Nomadic State of Mind using a method he said he learned in Nicaragua. He was the first to actually understand our story – everyone else seemed to think we were employees of the Sundance catalog – although he didn't think he'd ever been to Wyoming.

It turned out he'd been to Devils Tower, and he'd also made it to Sturgis despite nearly being swept away in a flash flood. Unsurprisingly, he then discovered the bike festival wasn't really his scene.

He did promise to mail us both a pair of shoes, but they haven't turned up yet. I'm going to assume they were caught in some sort of natural disaster, but if they do arrive I'll let you know if they're comfy.

The two ladies showcasing their all-natural Kalahari Rose skincare had a harder time understanding the Sundance Times, though we went through the story several times. They sent us away with product bags too, so I'm expecting to have an LA glow to my skin by the end of this winter.

We met plenty of interesting characters while we lounged on the sofas and wandered the halls, including a fantastic gentleman from the Kentucky Film Office, who was there to promote his state as a movie location. They're looking to repeat the success of the "Made in Georgia" screen that seems to appear at the end of every show, so if you start seeing flashes of "Made in Kentucky", I can introduce you to the person responsible. Sadly, we weren't in town long enough to attend the party he invited us to.

We weren't even the naughtiest people there. Our hustle was trumped by a man who couldn't answer our questions about how this whole Hollywood party thing works because he wasn't supposed to be there either.

His associate quite literally went through every name she could think of at the door until she got to one that was on the list.

We did see some famous faces, although much of it was lost on us. We witnessed a well-dressed gentleman disembark from his limo soon after we arrived, accompanied by two women who were never going to survive if they stayed outside.

Unfortunately, we have no idea who he was.

We also saw someone getting mobbed at the end of the street, but we hadn't found a parking spot yet and they get antsy if you pause your vehicle, so we couldn't identify them.

Inside the lounge, we witnessed a good-natured young man taking photos with well-wishers but, once again, we didn't know who he was. A reverse image search told us it was a rapper by the name of ASAP Rocky, but that seemed unlikely considering he's not an actor, and is currently on trial.

We later found out it was Jay Will, one of the stars of Tulsa King. He was there to promote a movie by the name of Rob Peace.

We also sat at the oxygen bar with a verbose gentleman who seemed like he might be important. I saw one of the attendants whisper who it was and called her over to demand that she share.

It was allegedly one of the judges from America's Next Top Model, or one of the many spin-offs. I was still none the wiser.

We did better when Pauly Shore wandered into the VIP lounge, and even better when we spotted Benedict Wong chatting to some bouncers outside a bar. I'm sure you know the former from his 30-year career but, if you're not familiar with the latter, he currently plays Wong in the Marvel Cinematic Universe and has appeared in a long list of other shows, including as Kublai Khan in Marco Polo.

I also had a chat on the stairs with a lovely woman in whose path we inadvertently stood, causing us to get separated. We had a little joke about how easy it is to lose your assistant, as if that's a thing I'd know anything about.

Turns out it was Shiori Ito, director and star of one of the festival's showcased movies, Black Box Diaries.

Jason Momoa unfortunately failed us, even though the event was partly about launching his new vodka line. For a while we thought he was hiding behind a curtain (and so did everybody else), but if that is the case then he's still there.

We did meet Russell Crowe, but this version was an actual crow. Earthwings.org was hosting a fundraiser in which you could give a $5 bill to Russell, who placed it in the donation box for you, and then have your photo taken with a beautiful owl.

If I'm honest, despite all the gifts, the exciting people and the hustle and bustle of the lounge, not to mention those fabulous cinnamon rolls, I think Russell was the highlight of my day.