Like Crazy at Sundance: 36 Hours I Will Never Forget
After my last post, I found myself alone at the cabin. Or so I thought. . . .
Then emerged Anton, wiping the sleep from his eyes. We stared at each other for a moment, as if we were alien species, unfamiliar with each other. We bust up laughing. "Where the hell are we?" he asked with a grin as we stared into the vast white through the picture-frame window. Nanooks of the North. "I could survive out there. Absolutely."
We talked about how the film had affected our personal lives and how amazing it was that it had. I get a text from Drake offering an extra ticket to a movie I wanted to see. Anton says he'll split a cab, but the clock's ticking. To the rescue, Jonathan and FJ return from a meeting and pull up to the cabin in the nick of time. We head back to town. "Thanks for the lift! Adios!"
Anyway, cut to the part where I get stuffed into a car with approximately 300 other people. Several of them got out as they were dropped at their respective lodgings.
"Hey, who was that guy sitting in the back? He looked really familiar," I asked Like Crazy producer Andrea Sperling.
"Rick Linklater," she replied.
I pause.
"As in Richard Linklater?"
Andrea finishes composing an e-mail on her iPhone.
Send.
"Uh . . . yeah."




























