Dancing with the Stars

And what would Sundance be without a good Cinderella backstory? Chris Quinn struggled for years to finance God Grew Tired until he tapped his pals Dermot Mulroney and Catherine Keener's Rolodexes (which included the likes of Brad Pitt) for donations, even landing Nicole Kidman to narrate. Following an afternoon screening, one of the film's subjects, John Bul Dau, shared with the audience his plans to return to Sudan to build a clinic as soon as he raised another $25,000. Then, a woman approached him. ''She just put a check in his hands and walked out,'' said Quinn. ''He looked at it and at first he thought it was $25. Then he looked again and it was $25,000.''

Of course, not every movie was so heavy. There was plenty of sex and rock & roll, too. Awesome, I F---in' Shot That!, the raucous concert film from the Beastie Boys, first packed theaters, and then filled the Legacy Lodge, where the troublemaking trio performed while Maggie Gyllenhaal and Peter Sarsgaard rocked the VIP area. (Corey Feldman also rocked, but was apparently not of sufficient VIP status to kick it on the same side of the velvet rope as the indie It Couple.) As for the sex, there was erstwhile comedian Bobcat Goldthwait's digital-video cheapie Stay. The bruise-black comedy — about a woman who, on a whim, pleasures her dog, then years later struggles over whether to share the shameful secret with her fiancé — may have looked like it was shot on wax paper, but it hit the bull's-eye with sold-out theaters.

But enough about bestiality, you say? What about the celebs? Sundance was lousy with them: Jennifer Aniston kick-started the festival with the tepidly received Friends With Money, Winona Ryder attempted a comeback with The Darwin Awards, Robert Downey Jr. was in town with A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints, and Terrence Howard, last year's conquering hero thanks to Hustle & Flow, returned as a juror and was rarely seen without a bevy of snow bunnies by his side. (Howard even tried to sneak a box of Krispy Kremes into a screening of Come Early Morning, only to be told by diligent staffers that famous or no, the tasty treats had to stay behind.)

To some, the ever-present stars and their entourages signaled the indie end — times and the annual gripe over mushrooming growth of corporate goody-bag outposts grew ever louder. While many celebs grazed at the freebie trough without shame (yes you, Rob Lowe!), others saw them as proof that quaint Park City had turned into a sort of swag bordello. ''It makes me feel dirty,'' said Toni Collette, who was in town with Little Miss Sunshine and The Night Listener. ''Nine years ago this ugliness wasn't here.''

Still, there were those who saw beauty in the quarter-century-old ritual. Sundance perennial Kevin Smith was quick to shoot down complaints that the festival is growing too commercial. ''It does what it did when it first started: showcase American independent cinema,'' said the director. ''It gave me a real shot. I came here with a five-buck-an-hour job, and I left with a career.'' So where would he be if Sundance never existed? Said Smith, with a grin, ''Hopefully, a six-buck-an-hour job.''