In a subterranean parking garage, hundreds of partygoers are crammed into a makeshift version of Manhattan’s TAO nightclub, drunk on (free) Moët & Chandon rosé and high on life — and other stuff wafting through the air.
“TAO is fun,” remarks one reveler.
“It’s even more fun on molly,” adds his pal before Rick Ross takes the stage. The comely crowd goes wild; one blond fan starts singing along with the rapper, who, in turn, grabs her head and sucks her face.
Welcome to Park City, Utah, where thousands have jetted in for the Sundance Film Festival, now the biggest party of the year.
TAO’s Friday-night rager drew entertainment power players such as Elizabeth Olsen, Lil Jon, Kristen Stewart and Harvey Weinstein, who danced the night away until the club’s 4 a.m. closing.
Movies, shmovies.
Sundance is all about the parties, silly cinephiles! Thanks to the endless parade of celebrities, booze-sponsored bashes and pop-up hot spots (TAO, Surf Lodge, Bungalow 8), the kick-off weekend to the 10-day Park City indie film festival has become so ridden with debauchery, they ought to make a movie about it.
Billy Crudup, whose flick “Rudderless” premiered Monday at Sundance, was picking up ladies left and right at his film’s Grey Goosesponsored after-party on Main Street, according to an attendee. “He was inviting girls back to his ‘mansion,’ ” says the source. “Not his house. His ‘mansion.’ ” (Crudup’s publicist had no comment.)
The night before, at TAO, Shailene Woodley — in town for her film “White Bird in a Blizzard” — was also exhibiting signs of festival fever. According to a party-goer: “She was really drunk, grabbing and kissing everyone around her, and someone from her crew had to stop her and made her go home,” he says. (Woodley’s rep did not return an e-mail asking for comment.)
The excesses of Sundance are such that hard-partying visitors don’t even bother with the local drug dealers.
“People just brought the drugs on their private planes,” one NYC-based Sundancer explains matter-of-factly. “I even heard of people taking Special K, and I haven’t heard of that in years,” he adds.
“I don’t know what gets into people at Sundance,” says Brittany Mathieu, whose firm, sbe Entertainment Group, was in charge of the pop-up Sayers Club, where “Entourage” star Adrian Grenier sat atop a banquette on Saturday night with an ever-present bottle of Jameson nearby. (He later jumped onstage to play the harmonica.)
Professional party chasers also descended en masse — investment bankers, cash-flush Instagrammers and socialites such as former Barclays Bank chief Bob Diamond’s 24-year-old glamourpuss daughter, Nell. Facebook rented a luxe Deer Valley pad, complete with a personal sushi chef, to make the stay all the more palatable.
“It’s definitely starting to become the same thing as Art Basel — every year, it gets more and more party-focused rather than what it’s intended to be,” says Jordan Greene, a 29-year-old attendee who works in computer programming.
“I’m a perfect example of it,” admits Greene, “because I have zero reason to be here, professionally speaking.”
Those actually in town for business have learned to master the delicate balance of partying in Park City.
Namely, by not sleeping.
“I’m just thinking about how tired I am today. I was out until 3 o’clock in the morning last night, which I never am anymore, obviously,” mother-of-two Maggie Gyllenhaal told The Post at the Sundance Channel bash on the main drag Sunday evening. “People are watching movies until 11 o’clock at night.”
“It’s quite common that we can be at a party until midnight or 1 in the morning and then go finish a deal at 2 a.m.,” adds Marc Simon, an entertainment attorney and filmmaker who was out celebrating at the after-party for “Infinitely Polar Bear.”
Spin franchise SoulCycle capitalized on the work hard/party hard mentality by erecting its first-ever Sundance pop-up.
“They come to us to detox so they can retox,” says SoulCycle co-founder Elizabeth Cutler, who says the morning sessions were wrought with hangover complaints.
But the inevitable Sundance fatigue doesn’t keep festival regulars — or newbies such as Mr. Las Vegas, Wayne Newton — from embracing the madness.
“We have been partying now for two nights,” a leather-clad Newton told The Post on Friday, “and they’ve told me I have had a good time.”