U2 3D had its world premiere at Sundance Saturday night at the Eccles theater at 9:45PM, and after a brief filmmaker & band Q&A, it screened again at midnight. With the festival run complete, the film now opens in theaters. All artistic intentions born at the beginning of the project are now leaving the nest to be replaced by public opinion. The turnover is hard for some filmmakers, and a few never let go. Catherine's broad smile and sparkling eyes during the introduction and Q&A, told me she was not just ready, but proud to hand it off.

When I got to Eccles, I instantly realized that the customarily insane atmosphere at the more popular screenings had not prepped me for this. Aside from the 1000+ ticket-holders herded into a pre-entry tent, there were almost as many people heartbroken without tickets, hoping against hope to glimpse at their heroes. Having been a teen fan of The Police, who would stay up 'til 5AM planning in excruciating detail with my best friend Margaret how to best meet them, enchant them with our brilliance, contribute to their ouvre and marry them, I'm versed in the lengths a fan can go. Sapphire from "Almost Famous" said it best, "They don't even know what it is to be a fan. Y'know? To truly love some silly little piece of music, or some band, so much that it hurts." Everyone standing outside that theater understood this. But once I found my seat in one of the 3 front area rows reserved for the U2 3D crew, I realized it wasn't only the fans left behind that had no plans to play it cool tonight. Woody Harrelson looked pumped, and Al Gore had a skip in his step as he approached his chair. You guys: Al Gore...in 3D glasses.

It had been a while since the NY editorial and audio team (Olivier Wicki and Jason Free, Carl Glanville and Robbie Adams) and members of the LA post team (Dave Franks, Michael Peyser and crew) had seen each other. Folks that you've only known, sitting in edit bays looking pasty under fluorescent lighting, were milling amongst the rows, greeting and giggling in edgy versions of their Sunday best. These people you've known from conference rooms and spontaneous 3AM conference calls, suddenly have lovely wives and cute boyfriends. It's like a kid spotting his 3rd Grade teacher at the supermarket. Or seeing Kermit the Frog ride a bicycle. Once everyone was seated, save a few restless folks, the voices and seat rustling began to crescendo in anticipation for three things: the arrival of our Director Catherine Owens and Co-Director Mark Pellington, the band's arrival and seeing the film. Before I actually saw them with my own eyes, I knew they'd all entered because the screams shook the room like a Park City avalanche. When I did see them, I saw that Robert Redford was fittingly leading them.

Festival director Geoff Gilmore's intro was the screening equivalent of "Are you ready to rock?". He then summoned Catherine, Mark and the band to the podium, where Catherine, in a flirtatious orange coat, thanked her core team with the poise of the Royals, and the joy of someone whose artistic vision was being embraced by 1200 people. Bono stepped forward, noted that the high school venue was perfect for what is, after all, a high school band, and them prompted photographers to get shots of the band in their 3D glasses which brought cheers, but when the lights went down, the audience went nuts. It got louder during the 3D countdown, and when the film finally began, and the room started to pulse with Vertigo's first beats, it felt like a prison riot erupting. From the animated TV and telephone that Bono touches with his hands (like a thoughtful "Minority Report" Tom Cruise) in "Love and Peace or Else", to him reaching to "dry our eyes" in "Sunday Bloody Sunday", to the Eccles audience raising their cell phones in solidarity with the thousands of South American fans raising theirs in "One", to the rich palette of falling and flying letters in "The Fly", the audience faithfully followed each beat. Not once did I spot (I turned around a lot to watch the audience of 1200 all wearing 3D shades) anyone wriggling in their seats or getting up to pee.

The film received a standing ovation during all six minutes of end credits. The first Q&A question, "I LOVE YOU BONO!!!!", came from a "journalist" whose press credentials I instantly questioned. While the audience calmed down, and Bono noted there seemed to be a lot of love and Irish whiskey in the house, I considered what she might have done to get there-join a rag-tag periodical? get her press pass and herself to Park City?-and I lauded her chutzpah. A bold bespectacled man asked the band if they would ever consider making a deeper film-like The Yellow Submarine. Catherine later said that in that moment, she knew Bono would respond in one of two ways: conciliatory or challenging. He approached the mic with a swagger and met it with an expletive. And there was her answer. He reminded everyone that he was a huge Beatles fan, but wasn't convinced that The Yellow Submarine was a "deep narrative". After he gave Octopus' Garden "big ups", he said that yes, the 3D technology did dazzle and the film did deliver the hits, but it also told the story of the band's coming together and commitment to human rights, and he ended by challenging the questioner to see the depth in touring this particular country with the Declaration of Human Rights. This blogger put a quote from The Nowhere Man under her Senior yearbook photo, but I and the 1200 cheering audience members had to concur. Catherine told me that she had no idea Bono had pointed out the symbolism of touring "this particular country" with the Declaration until she read about it later, and I realized what a blur much of this must have been for her. The session ended with a final audience member asking if the band knew how much they were loved. More cheers, and then like that, it was over.