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— by Larry Carroll
PARK CITY, Utah — An industry-heavy crowd was scattered throughout the historic Egyptian Theater here, talking on Bluetooth
headsets, sipping lattés and reading movie scripts. Excitedly, geeks who had waited in the cold for more than an hour poured
in, filling in the gaps. For the Crook Brothers, it's the realization of every filmmaker's dream; for everyone else, it's an
opportunity to be among the rare few who might be able to say, down the road, "We were there when ... ."
"I can't believe it," older brother Josh marveled as he and his baby-faced younger sibling, Jeff, worked a mobbed sidewalk outside the world premiere of their film "Salvage." "If the screening goes well and the film sells, it will change everything."
The Crooks took turns answering the inevitable questions with "We're so excited!" or "We're so nervous!" It was midnight, and the most-hyped horror film of the Sundance Film Festival was about to unspool. For the genre-loving, popcorn-tub-hugging members of the audience, all was right with the world.
After a brief introduction (and a shout-out to Mommy Crook, nervously sitting in the back of the theater), the lights went down. As the witching hour struck, a dark, blurry shot of an imposing figure gave way to a title card reading, "A Crook Brothers Production."
"I feel good, I feel energetic," Josh had said a brief while earlier. "I go through waves of feeling nauseous, but I'll make it."
"That would be the money shot [for the press]," his brother teased. "When we're keeled over in the corner, puking."
No lunches would be lost on this night, however — except maybe by those who could not handle "Salvage," a brutal, armrest-grabbing flick high on carnage, comedy and concept. After cheering the director's names and the film's title, the audience was introduced to Claire Parker (stage actor Lauren Currie Lewis), an overworked convenience-store clerk dependant on her boyfriend, Jimmy (Cody Darbe), for a ride home. When an ominous stranger (longtime Crook friend Chris Ferry) shows up instead, Claire has no idea what her immediate future holds — or what horror the car's trunk holds, for the matter.
After the audience (quite appropriately) freaked out to the point where they were peeking through their fingers, something very weird happened: The events onscreen started over again. As Claire closed the store, accepted an ill-advised ride home and once again faced her own horrific fate, the audience began to realize that they were watching an imaginative, "Groundhog Day"-meets-"Hostel" debut film by two brothers who were having as much fun messing up the screen as messing with the audience.
By the time the shocking twist was revealed and the credits rolled — listing, it seemed, 10 different jobs per name — the crowd members couldn't decide whether they should break out in applause or turn to their neighbors for help sorting it all out. A stunned silence hung in the air, and the Crooks re-emerged triumphantly in front of the screen, hands nervously nestled in the pockets of their jeans.
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"There's too many people to thank," Jeff offered, flanked by his brother; the much-less-harried-in-real-life actress, Lewis; and the uncomfortably smiley onscreen monster, Ferry. While answering questions from the appreciative audience, the siblings stood side-by-side and announced that they would soon begin work on their next film, featuring a significantly higher budget. They also joked about how they saved the funds for "Salvage" — by having the cast and crew stay over at Ferry's parents' house. Quickly, the crowd and the buzz spilled out into the night, with the Crooks walking on air to the afterparty.
In the few days surrounding the Tuesday night/ Wednesday morning premiere, the Crooks would pose for People magazine, take meetings with über-producer Harvey Weinstein and assemble their own entourage out of thin air. In the hours after the screening took place, the phone began ringing with prospective buyers, essentially sealing their Cinderella story.
Now, they continue to negotiate for a studio home that will treat their irreverent, creepy little baby with care — until the world can finally feel what the crowd at the Egyptian felt that night.
"I'm actually glad that's over with," Josh said, looking back with evident emotion on the experience. "Not that I didn't enjoy it — it was really incredible. We did it; we screened a movie at Sundance. And all of you [aspiring filmmakers] out there — you can do it. It's amazing. It actually can happen."
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