Wednesday was our day off, in terms of screenings and meetings. Sundance itself was slowing down—you got the feeling that most of the producers and buyers and press people had already done the rounds and gathered their reconnaissance and headed back to their various headquarters. So on my fifth day at Sundance, I finally got to shift over to the other side and become an audience member. All I did was see movies.

My boyfriend Heath had flown in the night before, and was staying in Salt Lake City. We met at the steps of the Library Center at 8 am for our first screener of the day: Downloading Nancy. I hadn’t known anything about it beforehand; I’d gotten a late slot in the ticket-purchasing lottery and didn’t get many of my first choices, so I took some risks. (Buying tickets online is exciting: if you don’t buy your tickets in your allotted 25 minutes, they disappear. In terms of racing pulse, better than Nintendo.)

I will say this, right up front: I intensely disliked Downloading Nancy. I recognize the skill with which it was constructed–the images were crisp and blue, compositions were careful and often successfully reflected the disorientation and alienation of its characters, and the way the film editing played with time and space was intriguing. The performances were bold and I admire the actors. But the film itself was astonishingly cruel and unpleasant. The main thing is, I didn’t buy a moment of it. I felt that the filmmaker held all his characters at arm’s length, examining them as insects wriggling on a pin, and wanting the audience to jump at their respective pathologies—he didn’t actually think they were human. I’m sure there will be those who disagree with me and find it art and bold and a successful exploration of humanity’s dark side. I think it’s pretentious crap.

The cinematic palate was cleansed after lunch, when we saw a frothy little Internet drama called August. I found it diverting, and Josh Hartnett was quite good in his performance as a cocky dot-com entrepreneur who watches his stock and status slide in the crash of 2001. Good performances all around, and a pleasant two hours, but I won’t think of it much again. Watch for Rip Torn’s hilarious dinnertime monologue.

The real jewel of the day was Smart People, in Salt Lake City. Yes, I will admit, I do know the screenwriter Mark Jude Poirier, so I’m biased. But well done! Extremely well-written and funny, with Dennis Quaid disappearing into the role of a bumbling arrogant awkward professor dealing with widowhood, a callow adopted brother (the excellent Thomas Hayden Church), a head injury and a Young Republican daughter (the adorable and whip-smart Ellen Page, from Juno). The film is already a Miramax property, not sure when it’s released–watch for it. But be warned: an abiding sweetness lurks behind the weary, knowing sarcasm.

Back to Salt Lake with Heath for the night. A relief to be in a real person’s home, away from the mayhem of the previous 5 days. Sundance is exhausting.