A Ticket to the Windy City

This was a crucial year. Yes, it really is, Irene Cho thought, steeling herself as she walked toward the conference room. This was the year they were completely dropping their former name, the U.S. Film Festival, and officially rebranding as the Sundance Film Festival.

Having graduated from the New York Film Center and started her career here as a programmer, she entered the room with high expectations. The interior was thick with cigarette smoke. Those who had already arrived were reviewing their materials for the day. Irene quietly took her seat, checked her own list, and waited for the meeting to begin. As time ticked by, everyone gathered, and the clock struck the hour.

"Shall we get started, then?" Robert Redford spoke, addressing the group of five programmers and directors. As the founder of the Sundance Institute, which hosted the Sundance Film Festival, and a legendary Hollywood actor, his word carried absolute weight. Because of that, he was famous for keeping his words sparse.

"How is the film selection coming along?"

"All done. We just need to mail out the invitations now. I've recruited someone with plenty of spit."

"We could've just brought my pug."

"Shut up. That dog eats too many hot dogs."

The meeting proceeded in a reasonably amicable atmosphere. Since everyone was a seasoned veteran, the discussions flowed smoothly without much friction. They finalized sponsorship details, program sections, tribute screenings, and panel lineups. Starting tomorrow, their mouths would run dry from mailing invitation letters and making phone calls. After all, we have to lick all those envelopes and stamps...

America, a nation of fifty states. Checking every promising indie film mentioned across all fifty states took a massive amount of time. They quickly breezed through the final briefings on their assigned submissions and invited films. As someone with far less experience than the others, Irene Cho could barely keep up. When they whispered about cryptic "internal politics," she could do nothing but nod along blindly.

Near the end of the lengthy meeting, Robert quietly spoke up. "So, is there nothing else besides these?"

"..."

"..."

"Yes. I believe we can proceed with this lineup."

"Are you sure?"

At Robert's question, everyone fell dead silent. That was when Irene—a spirited newcomer, though not entirely without experience—spoke up. "Are you referring to that film?"

The room reacted in a flurry of different gestures. Someone furrowed their brow, another stroked their chin, and some just gaped silently. Although they belonged to a corner of Hollywood—which could be considered the "Galactic Empire"—they viewed themselves more like the Rebel Alliance from Star Wars. Yet, none of them dared to utter the film's name first. The reason, though unspoken, was obvious to everyone. It was because the lead actor of the film was like "Darth Vader's hidden child who had succumbed to the Dark Side of the Force."

But Robert's deep-set eyes gleamed with interest at Irene's remark. "What was the title again?"

"..."

Glancing at the others, Irene answered, "Swing in Chicago. The one filming in Chicago."

"Ah, right, that one. I've heard rumors too. Do you know what kind of film it is?"

"It's the work of a fresh, rookie director who just graduated from film school. It's being funded by a local production company in the area, Philip Studios, with a total budget of around a hundred thousand dollars. It's not a completely self-funded project, but it's still ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a very micro-budget film. Looking at the synopsis, it fits the 'independent' spirit we pursue, so I think it's worth checking out at least once."

"About that," one of the programmers interjected. "We've already finished reviewing the December releases hoping for submission, and the invitations are finalized. We've all bought lemon drops to prep our mouths for licking envelopes. Is there really any need to check further?"

"But as you know, we often review rough cuts of films finished in December and screen them as World Premieres." There had been times when they took in films that had barely begun editing just to fit them into that year's lineup. A few programmers would stay up all night watching the screener copy that arrived on VHS, and then notify them over the phone. Because of that, filmmakers sometimes received their physical paper invitations after the festival had already ended.

That was the spirit of Sundance. They pursued the essence of "indie," prioritizing the "discovery of worthy films" over schedules or regulations. In that sense, Irene Cho couldn't ignore the existence of Swing in Chicago, which was currently, in many ways, the hottest unreleased indie film in America. Though she didn't know how the final product would turn out, Irene believed this: "If our mission is to discover great indie films and present them to the world, then I believe we have an obligation to check this film."

"I'm skeptical. Why bother with a film starring Sion Lee? It's probably just viral marketing from his agency. The kid went into reflection after his car accident recently. There are even rumors that he lost his mind and got into drugs after his mother passed away. I don't see any need to check it."

"...?" Irene's eyebrows twitched. This was one of the hardest things for her to adapt to in the professional world. She often felt that celebrities weren't given even the most basic human respect. To have such a devastating personal tragedy as losing his mother dismissed so lightly and used to judge him...

"I agree," another chimed in. "You all saw Deadly Summer Camp this year. Every film magazine I know ripped Sion Lee's acting to shreds, calling it the worst of the worst. The Razzies have basically locked him in for a triple crown this year. I am one hundred percent certain that a film starring him will ruin the very essence of indie cinema. Besides, if we accept this, it will only encourage troublemakers to 'pretend' to do indie films whenever they need to clean up their act."

"Exactly. It looks like a film he's doing just to salvage his image. For all we know, it could be a backroom deal coordinated with the production company from the start. The tail is wagging the dog here. There's no need to pay attention to it."

Just then, Robert, who had been quietly listening to the arguments, spoke up. "So you're saying this is unprecedented? Miss Cho, answer me."

"...Yes, that is correct."

"But how could Sion Lee's agency pull off something like this? Did they join the Freemasons or something? They're famous for having just one CEO and one employee. Does a company like that really have the resources to go all the way to Illinois and orchestrate something of this scale?"

The programmers had no choice but to shut their mouths at Robert's point. What kind of place was Hollywood? It was a place where secrets could not exist. As long as it didn't violate journalistic ethics, the media would seize and broadcast any scoop they could find. Thanks to that, Sion Lee's car accident hadn't been covered heavily by major news outlets. It felt as though they were giving him a slight pass because the incident overlapped with the tragedy of losing his only remaining family member. Of course, given their connections with advertisers, money was undoubtedly involved to some extent.

But what about the tabloids? If it made a shred of sense and caught the public's interest, they would print it. They would throw money at citizens for tips without hesitation. Unless they were paid off enough to offset the massive sales and circulation they would gain from putting such a scandal on the front page, they would make up whatever stories they could.

"I heard his agent spent a fortune just cleaning up the last incident. And now they're partnering with some production company to put Sion Lee in an indie film just to change his image? If that scoop didn't leak, they'd have to be the Freemasons. Or does anyone here know of another wealthy secret society?"

Robert's point was valid. Sion Lee was the ultimate prey for the yellow journalism that hungered for scandals, yet almost nothing had leaked. If their "team" was this tight, it meant the filming was by no means being handled carelessly. Though he spoke in a joking tone, he was pointing out that the "cinephiles" gathered here might be viewing Sion Lee through a deeply biased lens.

"We can't let this slide. Miss Cho, contact them and ask about the situation."

"Ah, yes, sir."

Though suddenly saddled with the task, Irene Cho suppressed her bewilderment and nodded. Even though the others wanted to object, recalling Sion Lee's disastrous acting skills and wanting to call it "madness," they couldn't say a word because Robert's reasoning was sound.

It's a waste of time. Just go through the motions.

That was what a senior programmer muttered to her as he passed by after the meeting. With things turning out this way, Irene was swept by a very strange feeling. Perhaps it was because of her belief that celebrities were often denied basic respect, but she couldn't shake the feeling that the Sundance Film Festival organizers were judging Sion Lee with extreme prejudice.

No matter how terrible his acting is, he definitely has star power. And that's also a necessary quality for an actor.

Since the festival was only a month away, overtime was already a given. As soon as she finished dinner, Irene picked out a few of Sion Lee's past movies from the archives and headed into the screening room. Although she was a cinephile, her taste was far from romance, so she had never watched any of his films before.

The screening room was nothing grand. It was just a cramped room with a small sofa, a CRT television, and a VCR deck. Leaning back on the small sofa, she began watching Sion's films one by one, starting from his debut. Several hours passed.

"..."

Irene emerged with an exhausted expression and slumped into her desk chair. It was already past ten in the evening. Yet, most of the team members were still at their desks, grinding through their backlogs. Of course, though they tried not to show it, they were all curious about Irene, who had locked herself in the screening room with Sion Lee's movies.

The senior programmer who had told her it was a "waste of time" walked over, holding a cup of coffee. "Drink up."

"Ah, thank you."

"So, how were Sion Lee's movies?"

"...How on earth does anyone watch those?"

"Well, they're good for turning your brain off. Though there's a risk of it rotting. Personally, when my head hurts from the shock or emotion of watching a masterpiece, I watch one of his movies. It works wonders."

"Ugh, you were absolutely right. Why did I even bring up that movie during the meeting!"

"Was it really that bad?"

"The directing and production value were okay for a mindless watch. But my god, Sion Lee's face is absolutely insane. Since he's young, he has this fresh vibe, but he also has this sculpted, classical beauty, along with a rebellious, decadent charm like James Dean... In the scene where he's just sitting by the lake in silence, it felt like Milan Fashion Week. His gaze was absolutely mesmerizing. Seriously... I have never seen anyone that handsome in my entire life."

"Right? When I first saw him, I thought his overwhelming ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠looks would actually make it hard for him to succeed as an actor. It happens a lot. An actor is so good-looking that it breaks immersion. Even if they have talent, their image limits the roles they can play."

"Honestly, his acting was so bad that I just ended up admiring his face. I can see why he's so incredibly popular with women. Since there's absolutely nothing else to look at besides his face, you can't help but fall for it. That's probably why all his movies were so disposable."

"Exactly. It couldn't be helped. That's why I think Sion Lee would have been a massive success as a model instead of an actor."

"I don't know, I feel like he wouldn't even be able to walk a runway properly. Even that requires self-presentation and body control to reach the top."

"Well, even if he's not that kind of model, he could just do photoshoots. Take thousands of photos, pick a few good ones, and whatever newspaper or magazine publishes them would see their sales skyrocket. I absolutely despise Sion Lee as an actor, but I have to acknowledge his face. I mean, who among film lovers dislikes beautiful people? Everyone has that experience of falling for a pretty or handsome actor when they first start watching movies. So I wish he'd quit acting and go into fashion modeling before he gets any older. It almost feels like a tragedy that future generations won't get to see that face much. If he insists on being a film actor, that's exactly what will happen."

The senior took a sip of his coffee. After a brief hesitation, Irene asked, "Why do you hate Sion so much?"

"Because I love cinema."

"Isn't Sion a fellow filmmaker too?"

"What are you talking about? I've never had a colleague like that. That punk is the walking embodiment of the Hollywood mindset that 'anything goes as long as it sells.' A young actor who became a Hollywood star purely on his looks—instead of taking the time to build his acting skills, he's shown zero respect for the industry and thrown tantrums all over every set he's been on. How could anyone possibly like him?"

"..."

"An indie film? Sure, he can do that. Maybe Sion Lee had a near-death experience in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that car accident, suddenly woke up, and developed a genuine passion for cinema and acting. But the moment he's involved, it can no longer be called 'indie.' Well, everything I've said so far is just venting, but here is my honest conclusion. I'll say it again: I do not consider this 'indie.'"

So it's a waste of time. Leaving those words behind, the senior programmer returned to his desk.

Irene sighed softly, holding the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠coffee cup that had quickly gone cold. Technically, looking at the data, it is an indie film. But the person at the center of the controversy is... On her desk lay a memo with the phone number for Philip Studios, which she had obtained from another staff member earlier. Staring down at it for a moment, Irene let out a sigh and tossed it into the trash can. Yeah. No matter how I look at it, his acting is just not it. How can a person change in just a few months? Let's not waste energy on this.

At that exact moment, the phone on her desk rang loudly. Who could it be at this hour? Feeling a sudden wave of anxiety at the unexpected call, Irene quickly picked up the receiver.

"H-hello?"

"Yes, this is she. Who is calling?"

"...?" Just as she was about to say, "Stop playing jokes," and hang up in sheer absurdity, the voice continued.

"What? Billy Roxen? That Billy?"

"A spot? What spot are you talking about all of a sudden?"

"..."

"The... the review process is already finished," Irene replied, forcing her voice to sound colder. Hearing that familiar voice naturally conjured up his incredibly handsome face, overlapping with the movie scenes she had been watching all day. She felt deeply embarrassed that her heart had fluttered, even if only for a split second, at such a ridiculous line.

"The festival starts on January 17th. It's already December. How are you going to make it in time?"

"...C-cough." Irene cleared her throat involuntarily.

Calling the office at ten in the evening, acting as if he knew exactly she would pick up, and speaking with such shameless confidence as if there were absolutely no hesitation in his actions. Dumbfounded and unable to even argue, she asked back, "Are you confident? Confident enough to meet our standards?"

That short phrase was dripping with absolute confidence. ...No, I shouldn't let myself get swayed. I'll just treat this as penance for bringing up his movie in the meeting and handle it strictly professionally. Having made up her mind, Irene pulled out her work planner and grabbed a pen.

"When will it be finished?"

Hearing that, Irene furrowed her brow and checked the calendar in her planner. Within a week... If it really comes out by then, it's actually possible to submit it.

Receiving it by mail across state lines would take too long, but if she did what they occasionally did—go there in person, watch the film, and bring the edited reel back—she could easily put it on the agenda. "December 8th. If I fly over to Chicago then, will I be able to see it?"

"Ha..." Irene couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle at his unwavering confidence right up to the very end.