Earlier this week a few L.A.-based Hollywood columnists were politely disinvited from attending last night’s screening of Abdellatif Kechiche‘s Blue Is The Warmest Color (IFC Films/Sundance Selects, 10.25), the must-see lesbian romantic drama that won the Cannes Film Festival’s Palme d’Or last May. All publicists and marketers want online conversations to be sparked by the heat and excitement of Telluride or Toronto, but if I were running Sundance Selects I would let these guys see Blue before things begin on 8.28, and not just because it’s difficult to wedge a three-hour film into a compressed Toronto screening schedule. It’s vitally important to see Blue now, I feel, because of Adele Exarchopoulos‘s incandescent, unstoppable lead performance as the teenaged lover of supporting costar Lea Seydoux. Because AE will absolutely be one of the five Best Actress Oscar contenders this year. We’re talking an almost-done deal — really.

Kick-Ass 2 has opened with a thud. (Deadline is projecting $15.6 million for the weekend.) Can we at least get a little respect for Jim Carrey‘s performance as Colonel Stars and Stripes? Marshall Fine says it’s “the only performance in the film that has any weight to it, and seems to be in a different universe altogether. Carrey does something with the thrust of his jaw that both defines the character and makes him almost unrecognizable behind even a small bandit mask. It’s actually an interesting characterization, but of a character given too little time to…make an impression.”

For his performance as Jett Rink in Giant (’56), James Dean dug himself into a very deep mannerist hole. His Texas cracker accent was thicker than bean dip, and made his voice sound even more nasally and high-pitched than usual. And it was totally at war with consonants. The idea, apparently, was to un-enunciate as much as possible, speaking almost entirely with mood sounds and surly slurrings. If he’d gone all the way Dean would have avoided consonants altogether. Try to say “mah well came in, Bick” without the first letter in each word. I just did and it sounds something like “ahh ehhl ‘ame ihn, Ick.” That‘s what Dean was shooting for.**

I’ve stated more than once my admiration for Destin Daniel Cretton‘s Short Term 12 (Cinedigm, 8.23), which currently has a 100% Rotten Tomatoes score. And I like Cretton personally — definitely a gifted, friendly, thoughtful guy. But three-word names rub me the wrong way. I’m sorry but they sound a bit pompous. Francis Coppola said years ago that he dropped his middle “Ford” name for this reason. I can never remember if it’s Destin Daniel Cretton or Daniel Destin Cretton or Detton Creston Daniel. Or Daniel in the Lion’s Den. Why not add “Dustin” to the mix and become Destin Dustin Daniel Cretton III, Esquire?

Why haven’t I posted a Kick-Ass 2 review? One reason is that I wasn’t invited to see it. Which isn’t surprising. Publicists know that I loathe and despise this kind of film (especially sequels) and that there’s no upside. Another reason is that I didn’t ask to see it regardless. Sometimes I want to see a movie that I know I’ll probably hate because it’s “important” to see (like Man of Steel), but I decided a long time ago that Kick-Ass 2 was a low-grade rehash and not worth the effort. Presumably HE readers back east have seen it by now so please have at it.

All ahead-of-the-curve, festival-attending journalists in New York and Los Angeles want to be up to speed on Abdellatif Kechiche‘s Blue Is The Warmest Color before the rumpus starts. Sooner rather than later, I mean. The 2013 Palme d’Or winner, which I’ve been calling “the Cannes lesbian movie” or just “the lesbians,” is playing Toronto and is also expected at Telluride. But everyone wants to bag it early because it’s the hot thing to see (especially for those who missed it last May) and because nobody wants to wedge a three-hour film into a hectic film festival schedule — too much of a time chunk, eats into other screenings. There are at least three lesbian screenings happening this month in Los Angeles, and I’m naturally assuming that New York journos are being offered the same access. If I was working for Sundance Selects I’d be delighted by all this attention.

Sony Pictures Classics will distribute Bennett Miller’s Foxcatcher, a dark true-life murder tale staring Channing Tatum, Steve Carell and Mark Ruffalo. The Annapurna producer will open on 12.20. SPC distributed Miller’s Capote, which was nominated for Best Picture and for which Phillip Seymour Hoffman (a.k.a. “Philly”) won a Best Actor Oscar. Miller’s Moneyball was also nominated for Best Picture, and if you ask me it should have won.

In their latest (8.1) newsletter, the board of the Elitist Fraternity of Film Dweebs reminded readers that (and I quote) “under no circumstance will any EFFD members be permitted to say anything that doesn’t enthusiastically praise Criterion’s Bluray of John Frankenheimer‘s Seconds.” I understand the ruling, but I bought this Bluray at Amoeba last night and then drove home and watched it. And watched it. And watched it. And I’m telling you it’s a black drag to sit through. A dark, creepy, chilly-hearted downer from start to finish. Mainly about malevolence and threats and intimidation and dread. “Interesting,” yes, because of the creepy Orwellian (or do I mean Burroughsian?) tone and James Wong Howe‘s nightmarish black-and-white cinematography. But it’s mostly punishing.

I have a system in discussing possible Telluride Film Festival selections with the publicists who represent then. A publicist can’t spill the beans so you have to be tricky about it. Here’s how I put it to a publicist friend the other day: “I know you can’t say anything but I think your film is going to Telluride. Do me a favor — if it’s not going to Telluride, please write me and ask if I have any extra tickets to the next Dodger game. Okay? I’ll repeat — if it’s NOT going to Telluride, please write me and ask if I have any extra tickets to the next Dodger game. Which means that if your film is going to Telluride, you won’t email me about Dodger tickets. Okay? Fair?”

I was thinking about that scene in All The President’s Men when Dustin Hoffman‘s Carl Bernstein tells a source to hang up the phone by the count of ten if a story about H.R. Haldeman is wrong. Hoffman counts to ten and the source doesn’t hang up. Before signing off the source says, “Okay…are we straight, man?” And then it turns out he was some kind of moron and didn’t understand what Bernstein was saying.

It’s a very rare thing in movies when a significant character realizes that he/she is very unhappy in a job or in a marriage and wants very much to leave, and yet it doesn’t happen because he/she can’t afford it. I can think of two films in which this has happened. One, The Purple Rose of Cairo when Mia Farrow realizes she has no choice but to go back to brutish husband Danny Aiello because she has no place else to go. And two, From Here To Eternity when Deborah Kerr decides to return to the U.S. with her disgraced husband because she knows her relationship with Burt Lancaster is over and she has no other way to survive.

When it comes to present-day moral quandaries about 70% of me is the brilliant but cynical Marxist sister who’s led a very unhappy life, 20% of me is Rabbi Saul and 10% of me is Martin Landau going “whoa…did I just say that?” I love the way Saul reacts to Landau’s question without the slightest hiccup and then answers without skipping a beat. Haunted 60ish stranger from the future lurking in our home with a moral question? Go ahead, shoot.

I somehow managed to do something to my lower back a week or so ago. I was lifting potted plants in and out of my car and I guess I put too much strain on my back and not enough on my upper legs. If I’ve been sitting in a bent-over position it really hurts when I stand up. If I walk around I’m okay after ten minutes but initially I’m groaning and bent over like a 78 year-old. It’s bad. Yesterday afternoon I went to a chiropractor, and he said right away that my right hip was out of alignment or wasn’t level with the left hip or whatever. He pushed and pulled and leaned in and made everything feel great (“I’m feeling better!”, I told a friend), and then 30 minutes after leaving his office most of the pain returned. I’m going back Saturday for another session.

I’ve had back issues all my life. Calamity #1 happened in ninth grade when I jumped off the top row of some wooden bleachers and injured my back to some extent. Then I hurt it even worse when I was uprooting some trees for a New Canaan contractor (“Big John” Calitri) and again I used my back too much. Calamity #3 happened in late December 1999 when I was flying down a snow-covered slope on a toboggan and then at the bottom of the slop[e went shooting up a small hill made of snow and ice and fell off the toboggan and came crashing down on my lower back or hip. Once you’ve had back trouble you never really get over it.