PARK CITY—After more than two years of going virtual-only due to the ongoing pandemic, the Sundance Film Festival returned for a full run of in-person programming in 2023 that saw filmmakers and moviegoers alike making a wide variety of local cinemas their home once more. Whether it was to see harrowing dramas about bodybuilders, character studies about lonely office workers, or any of the other standout films of the festival, the streets were bustling with attendees new and old from all over.

Live programming brought with it the return of an unpredictable blend of controversy, surprise and discovery the Festival is known for. Necessary conversations about equitable access were raised after festival jurors for the U.S. Dramatic Competition walked out of the premiere of Magazine Dreams. They did so after festival organizers failed to provide a working caption device for deaf juror Marlee Matlin, who starred in last year's award-winning film CODA, which premiered during the 2021 Sundance festival. The jury did eventually see the film and Matlin was at the closing ceremony on Friday to recognize this year's entries.

The festival also saw the evacuation of the Rose Wagner Theater in Salt Lake City after audience members experienced health emergencies, while films like Past Lives, Fair Play and Infinity Pool generated buzz around awards potential, mainstream appeal and boundary-pushing experimentation, respectively, from festival attendees.

The close of the festival saw a more intimate awards gathering—compared to the grand gatherings previously held at venues like the Basin Recreation Fieldhouse—than previous years, but still captured an air of celebration with many winning filmmakers breaking out in cheers of excitement. At the same time, the moment was not taken lightly by those who were getting recognition for the first time after years of strenuous work.

"I feel relieved that this story is being received by audiences with such emotion and heart. I think that's the only thing that I hoped—for the film to connect with people," said Shayda writer-director Noora Niasari after winning the Audience Award for the World Cinema Competition.

Shayda tells the story of an Iranian woman living in Australia who moves into a women's shelter with her 6-year-old daughter to get away from her abusive husband and find a way to rebuild their lives. The titular Shayda—as played by Zar Amir Ebrahimi, who was named best actress at last year's Cannes Film Festival for Holy Spider—is a character whose deeply felt story was drawn from Niasari's own experiences.

"From our very specific personal story, for it to speak to a global audience, to really show the bravery and strength of Iranian women on this stage, is just an incredible gift," Niasari said.

This was echoed by Mstyslav Chernov, director of the documentary 20 Days in Mariupol. Focused on the conflict in Ukraine, it won the Audience Award for the World Cinema Documentary Competition.

Chernov described the audience award as the most important in the festival. The response of the crowd during its live premiere was "amazing," he said.

"This is not an achievement, per se. It's a privilege to tell this story to a wider audience," Chernov said. "It also gives the film a chance to be seen by many people and potentially help raise awareness because of the crisis that is unfolding right now. What I'm saying to all the audience is that it's called 20 Days in Mariupol, but 20 days is not the end of it. The war is going on right now."

Many attendees and industry representatives were swooping in to drop top dollar on buzzed-about films, like those that came from this year's generally solid midnight programming, with Prime Video striking first on In My Mother's Skin and A24 recently picking up the sinister supernatural horror Talk To Me.

Even works that won festival awards are still looking to get seen by wider audiences. And in a moviegoing landscape continually being reshaped by streaming, this can both a challenge and opportunity. It also remains to be seen how the festival's pivot to hybrid programming—which saw diminished crowds at screening venues as attendees opted to consume content from the comfort of their homes—will affect the future environment of in-person screenings in Park City, Salt Lake City and the Sundance Mountain Resort.

However, even if just for a couple hours at a time, there were many opportunities for audiences to discover new voices and for collaborators to laugh and celebrate the work that it had taken to get to the festival.

One such moment came when this reporter asked Niasari if she was behind a knock-knock joke that was delivered in the film by actor Mojean Aria, unaware he was standing nearby during the interview.

"I came up with the knock-knock joke, yeah," Niasari said with a laugh. "But in my interactions with Aria, who plays Farhad, I just saw that particular moment really feeling honest in his naivete and charm."

It was then that Aria jumped in from behind this reporter and proceeded to share his love for his director and this story, holding back tears as he quickly became overcome with emotion about what this particular film meant to him. "All my life as an actor, I thought I'd always have to play other roles and change my nationality of who I am to be able to fit in this industry. She allowed me to play myself. She allowed me to be myself," Aria said. "I'm just so grateful to her forever for that."

Niasari also returned this praise for all of her film's actors who she credited with helping her to tell this story. "I'm so proud of Mojean, I'm so proud of Zar, and Selina, the little girl who plays my inner child. They're all just gifts," Niasari said. "They helped me overcome my trauma and get to this stage."

This, more than anything else, offers a glimpse of the magic of the festival that had been missing for many. Getting to take in works by new storytellers, discovering visions and artists you may never have seen outside of this context, is where it taps into something spectacular. When we all head home, these are the memories that will stick with us. At least, until next year when we all return to make some more.