In the weeks before the Sundance Film Festival announced its decision to leave Park City after 41 years, Utah’s Republican governor, Spencer Cox, signed a bill rolling back diversity efforts at public universities and in state government, while the state legislature there plowed forward on a measure that now bans gay pride flags from flying on public buildings.
At the same time, Ohio Gov. Mike DeWine rubberstamped new bills banning gender-affirming care for trans people and rejecting LGBTQ protections. The state had been one of three finalists to host Sundance — the others were Utah and Colorado — starting in 2027.
In Boulder? Officials from the city’s tourism agency were leading members of the Sundance selection committee through a 10-minute ground meditation at Chautauqua Park.
“We took our shoes off and stood in the grass and did a mini forest-bathing moment to slow down,” said Karleen Lewis, director of marketing at Visit Boulder, which helped Colorado win the bid on March 28. “We’re a little quirky, a little hippie, and we understand that’s our reputation.”
It was those kinds of “seemingly silly, but meaningful” details that helped seal the deal, she thinks.
While Sundance and Colorado officials have strongly maintained that red-state/blue-state politics had nothing to do with Sundance’s eventual decision to relocate to Boulder, the differences between the three states are impossible to ignore. That’s especially true because, as one of the most important and well-attended film festivals in the world, Sundance has for decades been known as politically liberal, with a fearless, progressive reputation for embracing tough subjects.
Sundance also touted its own “ethos and equity values” as one of its criteria for picking a city to host the glitzy Hollywood spectacle for a ten-year period.
Other factors were certainly important, including the $34 million in tax credits Colorado lawmakers approved to attract the festival over a decade (not including other fundraising), major donations, and logistical advantages such as hotel rooms, exhibition venues and airports. In late May, a contingent of Boulder civic agencies pledged another $34 million in cash and in-kind services over the next decade.
But the festival’s move should be seen in a broader context, experts told The Denver Post, and that means recognizing Utah and Ohio’s rightward political momentum. By contrast, the alignment of Colorado’s politics and culture clearly gave Boulder an edge.
“They want people to come and feel safe, and to be able to express themselves and not have to think about whether they’ll get arrested in the bathroom on the way to the festival,” said Colorado Rep. Brianna Titone, the state’s only transgender lawmaker and a champion of the Sundance bid.
“Colorado and Boulder are places where we try to have those different voices,” she added. “And the university and a lot of other places have benefited from that.”
‘Politics and cultural fit’
Colorado Gov. Jared Polis said politics didn’t come up during discussions with Sundance. Rather, he focused on logistics, economics and Colorado’s dedication to the arts.
“Sundance is getting something here, because they outgrew Park City, and they would be the first to say that,” he said in an interview with The Denver Post. “It was hard because of the number of people there who (found the) experience lacking because of the capacity of the town. We wanted to make sure what we offered was a good match, and it really was.”
Eve Lieberman, executive director of the Office of Economic Development and International Trade, said arts and culture are central to Colorado’s economy and identity. In fact, they provide an annual contribution of nearly $20 billion, according to U.S. Bureau of Economic Analysis numbers contained in a study provided by Lieberman’s office.
“It’s a growing figure that supports numerous jobs,” she said. “And Sundance alone, over a 10-year time period, is estimated to have a $2 billion economic impact on the state.”
Boulder itself saw an economic impact of $115 million from cultural nonprofits in 2022 – four times that of other cities the same size, according Americans for the Arts. Another study found that Boulder is in the top 10 in the United States for “arts vibrancy,” which is evaluated on a mix of arts concentration, funding and programs, according to Visit Boulder.
“We didn’t by any means lean into the culture war, but what we instead tried to lean into was this actually very bipartisan (effort) across the ideological spectrum of people who wanted this to happen,” added Steve Fenberg, chairman of the Friends of Sundance committee, an informal group that recruited philanthropists and business groups for Sundance support.
“There’s still this narrative about Sundance leaving Utah that had a lot to do with politics and cultural fit,” he continued.
Rather, he said he believes there was a “stark contrast” between Colorado — where Sen. John Hickenlooper, Rep. Joe Neguse and Gov. Polis met with the Sundance selection committee to “convince them Colorado was the right place — and Utah, where the effort was less focused, given that Utah proposed to split Sundance between Park City and Salt Lake City.
Boulder Democrat Fenberg, who stepped down as president of the Colorado Senate in December, believes Utah and Ohio were not ultimately going to help Sundance grow in the current climate.
“But Sundance understood everybody (in Colorado) that had any sort of power influence and authority was making that case for (the move),” he said.
Officials from Sundance declined to comment for this story: Avoiding political discussions for now allows the organization to play nice with Utah during its final festival in January 2026, cooperation it needs to make sure the event comes together.
‘Sundance promotes porn’
But the culture wars were one of the first things industry veterans like Kathleen McInnis were thinking about during the bidding process.
An award-winning producer who has helped program events such as the Toronto International Film Festival to Aspen Shortsfest, she is one of many who were concerned about whether Sundance attendees would be discriminated against in Utah or Ohio.
“My question about Ohio was always, ‘Could the festival and/or the city of Cincinnati guarantee my filmmakers, who almost always are from countries outside the U.S. and often of a color other than white, would be safe?’” McInnis said.
For example, there have been concerns about the 2025 Oscar-winning documentary “No Other Land,” which traces Israeli and Palestinian cooperation amid the larger conflict — and which until recently scared away most exhibitors in the U.S. for fear of protests and reprisal. A Florida mayor had threatened to evict one cinema that was going to exhibit it; he’s since dropped the threat.
Censoring a film with sensitive topics would be much less likely in Boulder, where a town full of allies can mitigate fears over travel bans, gender discrimination and film-industry threats.
“Our community has been showing up to support Sundance, and we want to make sure everybody knows this is a beneficial relationship over the long term,” marketing director Lewis said. “We wanted to show them who we are and what values we have, and give them a sense of place while getting to know our community. And that’s really what we had control over at the end of the day.”
Compare that to the words of Utah State Sen. Dan McCay, a Republican who co-sponsored the flag bill there. In March, as news began to come out that Sundance would move to Colorado, he wrote on X: “Bye Felicia. Sundance promotes porn. Sundance promotes alternative lifestyles. Sundance promotes anti-lds themes. Sundance does not fit in Utah anymore.”
But it does fit Colorado, said McInnis. “I am very glad Sundance will stay in the west where so much of its ethos springs from. I think this is a brilliant time for Sundance to reimagine their mission, and restate their commitment in a new language that will keep (founder Robert) Redford’s original indie-spirit alive, as well as move the festival into a new future at the same time.”