Montana Film Festival Puts Kindness at Center Stage

For more than 20 years, Daniel Glick made films about people trying to heal, protect, and restore the world around them. But after attending over 50 film festivals as a filmmaker, he noticed something missing: a place that celebrated solutions instead of just problems.

So Glick co-founded the Lone Peak Film Festival in Big Sky, Montana, with one bold rule. Every film has to leave audiences feeling good about humanity.

"We want to be a counterweight to that heaviness that the mainstream media just focuses on," Glick said. "It creates this impression that humans are just awful, and everything is terrible. That is not the full picture."

The festival focuses on four types of stories: Montana communities, Indigenous voices, conservation efforts, and human resilience. Films like "Sing Sing" and "Lost Wolves of Yellowstone" made the first lineup, proving that uplifting doesn't mean avoiding hard truths.

Becoming a father five years ago changed what Glick wanted to build. He wanted to travel less and create something lasting in his home state, where no festival focused on solution-driven storytelling.

Montana proved ready for the idea. More than 50 local sponsors backed the first year, including businesses, foundations, and individuals who believed their state needed this kind of gathering.

The Ripple Effect

What sets Lone Peak apart isn't just what plays on screen. The festival covers travel, lodging, and food for one filmmaker from every selected film, including shorts.

That's extremely rare. Out of the 50-plus festivals Glick attended as a filmmaker, only one offered similar support.

"We want to make sure that the filmmaker is honored and respected and given back to, because they're giving a gift to us," he said. Independent filmmakers often pay their own way to festivals, turning invitations into financial burdens.

The festival also connects emerging filmmakers with established industry mentors. A&E Global Media came on board as an early backer, drawn to this mentorship model and the festival's Indigenous Stories program.

The opening ceremony featured a round dance led by Shane Doyle of the Crow Nation. It set the tone for a festival that honors both place and people.

Glick isn't dismissing difficult stories or pretending problems don't exist. He's simply refusing to let darkness be the only story we tell about ourselves.

In a media landscape that profits from outrage and despair, a small Montana festival is proving that hope can fill seats too.