From Michelle Obama’s White House to Sundance Chair: The Extraordinary Second Act of Ebs Burnough

Ebs Burnough is considering the best piece of advice he’s ever been given. The comment comes from an astonishingly star-studded rolodex — a mountain of industry names he has accrued over decades working in politics and film.

“Nora Ephron,” he lands on: “‘Consider the alternative.’ Because the alternative for a lot of things is, frankly, not being here. Whenever I’m disappointed or upset about something, I think, ‘God, consider the alternative.'”

Burnough, currently the chair of the Sundance Institute, is a former White House adviser-turned-filmmaker. After working as Michelle Obama‘s senior advisor and political director in the late ’00s, he was hand-picked by the then-First Lady to help head up some of the most iconic events ever held at America’s political home: state dinners and cultural affairs that would host the world’s leading politicians, artists and activists.

It is a job, he confesses, that kept at bay his passion for film and theater. In 2011, he had emerged on the other side of the Obama administration unscathed, and after a two-year stint working with Aerin Lauder (granddaughter of the late beauty icon Estée Lauder) to scale up her luxury lifestyle behemoth AERIN, Burnough found himself pursuing a lifelong dream. The Capote Tapes, a deep-dive into the explosive, never-finished final novel of Truman Capote, Answered Prayers — told through unheard audio archive and interviews with the writer’s friends and enemies — released in 2021, solidifying Burnough as a formidable documentarian.

He is juggling his next project, a film about Dusty Springfield, with producing a new podcast series called Tea & Vodka, where Burnough invites celebrated guests — from British-American chef Ruth Rogers and ex-White House social secretary Desirée Rogers to Wu-Tang Clan leader RZA — to sip tea (or vodka) with him while reminiscing on life and lessons learned. He operates out of a studio in west London — Burnough moved here in 2014, met his husband and never left — where a framed photo of him shaking hands with Pope Leo greets you as you enter.

He talks to The Hollywood Reporter nearly five years into his role as chair of the Sundance Institute. The filmmaker reflects on the U.S.’ Trump-induced “growing pains,” the major security breach that clouded his political career and spearheading the much-talked-about film festival move to Boulder, Colorado: “Bob [Robert Redford] was aware,” Burnough laughs, “and made his opinions very much known.”

Burnough’s relationship with the Obamas came about through mutual connections. A Northwestern graduate, he had been working for future New York governor Andrew Cuomo and later, Patrick Gaspard, who was working his way up the political ranks in Manhattan. When Gaspard was hired as political director on Obama’s presidential campaign, Michelle Obama was in need of some staff of her own.

“[They] all knew me, and I’m an only child of a single-parent family, raised by my mother and nanny and aunt. They wanted it to be someone who’s really good with working with strong women, and isn’t threatened,” Burnough recalls.

“She knew the creative side of me, the theater and the film side of me,” he continues about why the First Lady then wanted him for deputy social secretary. “Our first state dinner was India, and we had Bali dancers from San Diego, Jennifer Hudson singing with the National Symphony [Orchestra]. All of these things, you think, ‘There’s a creative [behind it],’ but there’s also the politics of someone having to actually sit in the center. Because the head of legislative affairs says we have to invite these members of Congress, and the head of the DNC says we have to invite these donors,” he explains about the logistical challenges that came with the job. “I think I do have a natural talent for identifying what resources are needed where and when […] and I think that’s probably what [Michelle Obama] saw.”

When Rogers, the first Black woman to serve as the White House’s social secretary, was fired from her role, Burnough took over in the interim. “I’ve actually never talked about this,” he begins to THR. “At that first state dinner, we had a crazy experience where we had gate crashers at the White House.” A man and woman who were not invited to the event — Michaele and Tareq Salahi — got past three rounds of security and shook hands with the President, in an unprecedented security breach that had the Secret Service completely stumped. “It was major national news, and the blame was pinned on Desirée,” says Burnough, who adds that no one wanted to place fault on the Secret Service: “The President had a lot of death threats, and you can’t bite the hand that’s protecting you.”

Rogers’ sacking left a sour taste in Burnough’s mouth. He left politics behind in 2011, but did he ever find out just how the Salahis got through the best security in the world? “I mean, there were congressional hearings about that!” responds Burnough. “It was insane. The night of the event, it was pouring down [with] rain, and I think the Secret Service just let their guard down because they had so many VIPs. You had Colin Powell, the Secretary of State, the Clintons — all in black tie and gowns.”

As someone who played an integral role in an administration that is now regarded as the glory days of 21st-century U.S. politics so far, does he lament watching what’s happened in the years since the Obamas left office? “I am always hopeful. I am an eternal optimist. President Obama always used to say, ‘Politics goes in a zigzag,’ and I think that’s right,” says Burnough. “America is going through a growing pain — we’re a young country, we just turned 250 — and I think these are moments of identity. I think there is fundamentally more that brings us together than there is that divides us. I just believe that, right now, we have been traumatized by COVID, in particular, and I think we’re living in a moment where everyone feels very individual.”

The next job presented itself through three different people: fashion legend Anna Wintour, Mellody Hobson, wife of George Lucas, and U.S. businessman Aryeh Bourkoff, who had all suggested to Burnough — in separate conversations — that he go and work with Lauder. The next day, at a friend’s house for dinner, he found himself seated next to her. On whether politics was a door-opener for him, Burnough says: “Politics, in America, [whether you’re a] Democrat, Republican, Independent — it doesn’t matter. It’s a unifying force in the sense that it affects everybody. Fashion, finance, film. The White House Correspondents Dinner has become, over the years, like another version of the Met Gala. Everyone has skin in the game.”

At AERIN, the shift from politics was harder than he might have suspected. Burnough went from working with the secretaries of education and agriculture, bettering children’s lives and giving back to the community, to “worrying about the pattern on a tube of hand cream.” He says: “I went from doing something that had such meaning and purpose, personally, and [could see] the tangible results of how it affected people’s lives… [But] the second one paid better. It afforded me a totally different style of life and time with friends and family. I was happy to leave the White House,” he adds, “but I did miss the impact.”

That dissatisfaction was short-lived: Soon enough, Burnough was reintegrated into the world of film and theater. One memory in particular stands out as proof that the director in him never left. “I was on the board of Steppenwolf [Theater Company] and the board of The Actors Fund. [EGOT-winning composer] Marvin Hamlisch died in 2012 and when he died, Marvin and [his wife] Terre didn’t have any kids. So I planned his funeral [and] I planned his memorial. All of a sudden, at his memorial at Juilliard, were Barbra Streisand, Liza Minelli, Aretha Franklin, Itzhak Perlman. President Clinton spoke, Lily Safra spoke. There were these moments where I was all of a sudden producing or directing in some way, so I think it was always there.”

Burnough remains rightfully proud of his Capote Tapes, a well-reviewed piece of work that premiered at TIFF. Last year came Kerouac’s Road: The Beat of a Nation, Burnough’s documentary on how Jack Kerouac’s beloved novel On the Road continues to resonate across contemporary America. Both have given him confidence to consider “dipping his toes” in narrative feature work. “I’m a person who looks at that stuff when it’s done, and I say, ‘Am I proud of it? Yes. Next.'” His long-running appreciation for fellow storytellers like Capote and Kerouac made him a great fit for the top job at the Sundance Institute, a role he was brought into in 2021.

Following a real baptism of fire — the first instalment of Sundance Film Festival under Burnough’s leadership went completely virtual due to COVID concerns (“we lost a ton of money, and I wouldn’t change the decision”) — the festival dominated headlines last year when it was confirmed that Robert Redford’s event would be relocating from Park City, Utah, to Boulder, Colorado.

Burnough, who spearheaded the move, is well aware of its significance. “It was a huge decision,” he says. “The reality of the situation is the festival’s master agreement with the state of Utah and Park City, which is up every 10 years, was coming to a conclusion. As a board, from a governance and fiduciary responsibility, we had a responsibility to examine what the next terms of the deal are and what the festival was bringing in.”

He says the crux of the deliberation was around rising costs and economic impact. “Last year [it generated] $195 million of economic impact and the year before $70 [million], and we were increasingly in a place [where] we didn’t have the same level of support that we needed.” Burnough continues: “The average hotel room during the festival is $800 a night, and you’re a filmmaker who’s scrimped and fought for every dime, and you’re [one] of the 18,000 submissions, you get accepted, and you’ve got to raise a ton more just to come to Sundance. That’s before you go through all your other festivals.”

The board ultimately opted for Boulder over runner-ups Cincinnati and Salt Lake City. “It’s beautiful, and one of the core principles that Bob Redford instilled in the DNA of Sundance is that we should never underestimate or forget the power of the artist having time to be and commune with nature, and that was a big thing for him,” explains the Sundance chair. It’s a lot more accessible than Park City, too, with a big airport just 45 minutes away. “It just spoke to us.”

The move was difficult for Redford, admits Burnough: “Like any founder. But ultimately, he understood what my responsibility was and what the board’s responsibility was, in terms of how we are supposed to show up for our artists, and he ultimately understood and completely blessed both the process and the final outcome. He was incredibly elegant,” he continues about Redford, who died in September last year at the age of 89. “[He asked] tough questions. He had a horse in the race, you know what I mean?”

Burnough himself can’t talk about the Sundance family without acknowledging the impact of their Labs and Fellowship programs. This year alone, all five of the documentary nominees for the Academy Award had come through Sundance, and four of the five nominees for best director had been in the Directors Labs.

“Bob would say to me, ‘It’s not about awards,’ [and] I would say ‘No, it isn’t about awards, but yes, and…'” Burnough laughs. “[The Oscars] is the one time a year the entire world stops and focuses on film. It’s a big deal for us to have that presence there, because what it telegraphs back out to the rest of the world is what the institute does. When you see Ryan Coogler and Chloe Zhao toasting one another because they were in the same cohort of the Directors Lab, [or] Paul Thomas Anderson [thanking founding Sundance director] Michelle Satter… It’s not about taking any kind of victory lap, it’s about better applauding the recognition of what almost 50 years of work and investment [went into it].”

He is as diplomatic and eloquent as a politician. Does he think his time under the wing of Barack and Michelle Obama might have set him up perfectly for a career at the Sundance Institute? “Feature films, documentary, television, theater, acting, it’s all about listening — constantly,” replies Burnough. “Are you listening to your fellow actor? And politics, at its core, is about listening. It’s like being a doctor or a nurse. [In politics], if you don’t listen, people die. Kids don’t get school lunches. I think that I carry that into all of my work, and I try to really listen to people and try and have empathy and understand where they’re coming from.”

It’s hard not to think of Ebs Burnough as the perfect dinner party guest: A man full of stories and wisdom, and who would likely turn up with an A-lister plus one on his arm. As impressive as his résumé is, he remains modest enough to surrender some of that well-earned power to the unpredictability of life, especially with his Dusty doc unfinished and a whole new era for Sundance on the horizon. “I’m terrified every day,” Burnough admits to THR. “I don’t suffer from imposter syndrome, but I do suffer from straight-up fear. It’s hard to pour your heart and soul into something and then put it out there and see if people like it. You just gotta leap.”