Buy my movie. Please.

Before this morning's "Go Tigers!" screening at Holiday Village, I see a middle-aged woman standing outside the theater entrance wearing a sandwich board. The sign on the front says "SUPPORT GROUP: Mothers of Indie Filmmakers." She's Lindsey Miller Lerman, a Nebraska Supreme Court judge, and her son has a 75-minute film at No Dance, one of the several Sundance alternative festivals that have sprouted up in Park City at the same time as the mother fest. There's also Slamdance and Slamdunk and Lapdance and TromaDance. (Troma is the studio behind tasteless comic horror masterpieces such as "The Toxic Avenger.") Last year Redford denounced them all as "parasites," and surely they are, but the newer festivals have captured some of the edginess and guerrilla ethos that Sundance lost when it became more assimilated into the Hollywood mainstream.

Lerman's son's No Dance film is called "Nebraska Supersonic." She's handing out fliers. "It's done in the mockumentary style. He made it with one-third the budget of 'Blair Witch,'" she says, proving that she's as well-versed in cinema as in law. "It has the sensibility of 'Spinal Tap' or 'Best in Show.'" Her son shot it at age 21; now he's 25. "He's been camped out in the dining room for the last few years."