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Named for its founder, Robert Redford's most famous film character, the festival runs from January 20-30. You come for the films, but stay for the frostbite. It got down to six degrees when I attended the fest's opening weekend, but the energy of the scene, the packed itinerary, and plenty of hot beverages kept me warm.

Films are held throughout a three-mile radius in venues ranging in size from 164 seats to 1270. (Though others screened in nearby Salt Lake City and Ogden.) All genres, on myriad subjects, shown via several media, are spoken for. There's even a multimedia installation called "Three's Company: The Drama," in which actor James Franco recreates the set of the popular 70's sitcom at an art studio on Main Street in an interesting psychological examination of how we connect through it.

Documentaries alone make up a vast contingent of the material, with subjects ranging from President Reagan to Kevin Clash, the puppeteer behind Elmo. One particular documentary kicked off the festival Thursday night - "Sing Your Song," which surveys the life and times of Harry Belafonte. A panel discussion the next night ended with audience members serenading the film's subject with his signature song, "Day-O."

While there, you may come upon a contest winner or two having his project screened, or simply his script read, as I did with Alex Simon's well-received "Baron of Havana," a potential epic based on the true story about Errol Flynn's journalistic trip to Cuba to get the scoop of Fidel Castro's revolution, already generating buzz.

Or Vimeo's "The Story Behind the Still," an HD video contest from Canon. It's a story told in eight chapters where each filmmaker must begin their chapter with a still from the previous chapter. The winner was filmmaker Marc De Jesus' take on Chapter Six entitled "Fool Circle," a suspenseful four-minute short that will be edited together with the other seven chapters.

For the lucky ones whose projects sing to visiting executives (the song is "For the Love of Money"), they get that elusive deal that will entrench them in Hollywood lore from that point on. Such was the case with festival darling "Like Crazy," a drama about a long-distance relationship from director, and American Film Institute graduate, Drake Doremus, which secured a nice multi-million dollar deal from Paramount Pictures only hours after its Saturday premiere.

Shuttle busses provide most of the transportation between locales, but it doesn't come without its own drama. The two-lane roads in "downtown" give Los Angelenos a feel that they're at home with bumper-to-bumper traffic. At times, it was more time effective to walk . . . and safer.

At one point, I was on a bus when the driver decided he would fix the side door which had become stuck. While outside trying to do this, the bus started to roll forward . . . without him! Fortunately, one alert rider jumped into the driver's seat and hit the brake. (With all the media coverage and filmmakers in attendance, I was surprised the incident was not caught on tape. It may have made a great short film.)

On Day One, my friends and I arrived at the main offices when they opened at 8 a.m. only to find everything for the first two days had sold out. So we'd be forced to "fly stand-by." That is, we were instructed to arrive at the venue two hours beforehand where we would receive a numbered ticket, sort of like a Southwest boarding pass. (Conveniently, the wait lines were sponsored by Southwest Airlines.)

Then we would have to return to that line 30 minutes ahead of the movie start time. If there are any seats still available after ticketed moviegoers are seated, the line is allowed in. However, there were no guarantees that your wait would pay off. And with the more popular movies, those with recognizable stars like John C. Reilly ("Terri"), Paul Rudd ("My Idiot Brother"), or Paul Giamatti("Win-Win"), or reputable directors, all optimism proved to be futile, especially early in the festival.

Some lines form long before two hours ahead of the screening time and, rather than waste hours, we attempted to infiltrate the rival film festival located atop the hill in a building with three small rooms for screenings.

The Slamdance Film Festival is almost two decades younger than Sundance, but has now been a staple since 1995. It highlights film fare considered more independent than Sundance. The cost of attending is more acceptable (only $8 to $15) and availability is greater, especially when friends with Slamdance passes can hook you up.

Though at Slamdance, the movies may make you laugh ("Fred and Vinnie," a film written by comedian Fred Stoller and directed by ex-"Everybody Loves Raymond" writer Steve Skrovan), or may scar you for the rest of your life ("Gandu," which should have been categorized an adult video rather than drama). It's a crap shoot.

Shorts offer an opportunity to avoid long exposure to potential torture, but may leave you wondering what you just saw. That's how I felt after viewing an Italian short named "Rita," which, as far as I could tell was about a mildly-retarded girl with Jesus-like healing powers who learns to swim.

But be wary if you decide to walk out of a showing, you may be walking right past the nervous filmmaker scanning the audience for kind reaction. (I never want to hurt their feelings, so I'll do a little "bathroom" dance as I go by, even as I don my scarf and coat.)

It takes a lot of coordination to manage your viewing, transportation, and nourishment schedules. Not helpful is the fact that there are few places to pick up a quick bite to eat, as most restaurants are strictly sit down, with waits that rival the stand-by line. Java Cow is one place that provides a convenient meeting point and recaffeination station, plus a place to mingle with like-minded professionals, perhaps making a connection.

The streets swarm with vendors and promoters, passing out free swag ("stuff we all get") and snacks. Some campaigns are unique and inspired. For instance, "Cedar Rapids," an Ed Helms and John C. Reilly film set for wide release on February 11^th, is about an insurance agent in Iowa who travels to the title metropolis for a convention. The studio rented out an art gallery on Main Street and renovated it to look like "Brownstar Insurance."

Inside, promotional interns offer you hot chocolate or apple cider and a chance to "spin to win." Prizes include hats, shirts, pocket warmers, or lip balm, all with the "Cedar Rapids" film logo . . . You may also have your "claim denied" and receive nothing, though they'll let you spin again.

When the sun goes down, of course, no Hollywood gathering is complete without parties to try to get into. Though there are VIP lists, it can be easy to find someone willing to make you a "plus-one." It's who you know.

Be sure to be at your most effervescent as you meet, mingle, and schmooze with an array of "hyphenates" from writer-producers to actor-directors and others who survive with three jobs such as one particular attendee who supports herself as a jewelry designer, office assistant, and actress.

Amidst hors d'oeuvres and an open bar, you hear a familiar chorus of "I'm working on such and such right now," "Let's work together," and "Call me." You never know - next year's "Hangover" might come from the next morning's hangover.

Most people don't want to let an opportunity get by them, and that includes complimenting someone on something they didn't do. I, myself, was congratulated for my short film before I had the chance to mention that I didn't do a short film. Hey, it's nice to be recognized, right?

All in all, it's a weekend of fun, films, and festivities that make up the Sundance and Slamdance Film Festivals. Bring some warm clothes, a camera, and a . . . laptop (for you might get inspired being around such creativity, and next year's entry deadlines are fast approaching).