By tweeting “uh-oh, I liked it,” Rope of Silicon‘s Brad Brevet is acknowledging that he’s committing a form of cultural heresy by writing a half-supportive review of This Means War, which seems to be 2012’s most despised film thus far.

Brevet is not alone. Others who haven’t slammed and have even winked at McG’s action comedy include Entertainment Weekly‘s Lisa Schwarzbaum, Hitfix‘s Drew McWeeny, Detroit News critic Tom Long, Jam! Movies’ Liz Braun, Alonso Duralde and MediaMikes’ Michael A Smith. Even N.Y. Times critic Manohla Dargis gave it half a pass, calling it “perfectly acceptable [if] watched on the back of an airline seat or at home while you’re doing housework.”

I hate to say this due to my respect and admiration for director Terence Davies, but I have a very serious issue with The Deep Blue Sea (Music Box, 3.23), which Davies directed and adapted from a 1952 play by Terence Rattigan. The issue, I regret to say, is with Florian Hoffmeister‘s cinematography.

In his 11.26.11 Guardian review, Phillip French says that look of The Deep Blue Sea is coated “with the brown varnish of postwar austerity.” But that’s under-describing it, really, for The Deep Blue Sea has one of the dispiriting and suffocating visual schemes I’ve ever seen in my life.

We all know & respect the celebrated dps who’ve worked wonders with shadows and darkness (Gordon Willis, Vittorio Storaro, Andrezj Bartkowiak, etc.) but Hoffmeister’s images are on another planet entirely. Sea isn’t just shadowy, and not just underlighted. It’s like every scene has been covered in a kind of gauze or scrim. Make that a very thick gauze or scrim. Or some kind of special digital vaseline that softens the image and makes every shot look swathed in hazy fog.

I’m trying to think of other films that have delivered this level of murk and grimness, this stifled atmosphere. I recall a 1971 King Lear, directed by Peter Brook and starring Paul Scofield, that had this kind of vibe.

This must be what it’s like when you’re succumbing to blindness due to disease or old age, I told myself. Everything starts to get darker and murkier and less detailed, and then finally you can see nothing. Obviously Davies and Hoffmeister were trying to “paint” an unhappy, buttoned-down world of proper manners and emotional constipation, but what a ghastly viewing experience! It’s suicidal to have shot a film with this kind of visual “value,” if you want to call it that.

I asked the screening-room projectionist if there was any possibility that he might not be delivering the proper light levels (i.e., foot lamberts) on the screen. He said nope, and that “the darkness is in the print.” I’ve asked to see The Deep Blue Sea on a screener to double-check.

On top of which the screening room I saw The Deep Blue Sea in what felt like a room adjacent to a burning furnace. It was bright and cool outside, and the screening room was warm, airless, suffocating. I complained and the engineer said it was fine, but it wasn’t.

This is an allegedly newish (or at least newer than the previous) trailer for Ridley Scott‘s Prometheus (20th Century Fox, June 8). I’ve been looking for that dead-giant-elephant-skeleton space jockey to return for a long time now, and he’s finally back in a four-second clip.

“The best sequence in Marley, Kevin Macdonald‘s sprawling, 2 1/2 hour chronicle of Bob Marley’s legacy, arrives at the very end,” says Indiewire‘s Eric Kohn. “While the credits roll, Macdonald shows Marley fans around the world singing his greatest hits. The diverse cultures and appearances, united by Marley’s lyrics and good vibes, speak to the singer’s global effect — as well as its lasting appeal today.

“It’s enough to make the fairly conventional overview of his career preceding the finale look comparatively tame. Despite its breadth, Marley delivers little more than a well-crafted overview sure to please diehard fans while leaving others unmoved.

“However, Macdonald’s approach gives a definitive feel to Marley, from its earliest moments tracking the singer from his impoverished Jamaican roots through the apex of his stardom and final days of a losing battle with cancer. Macdonald’s massive list of talking heads includes close relatives, childhood friends, former bandmates and producers, each of whom contributes to the movie’s fluid structure. It’s easy to get swept up in the Marley fever when virtually every subject has something overly kind and even worshipful to say about Marley’s legacy.

“However, this also creates a certain padding around the titular figure, not unlike the issue plaguing Martin Scorsese‘s equally detailed George Harrison: Living in the Material World last year: The ‘authorized’ stature challenges the movie’s authority over the topic. Rather than deconstruct the legend, Macdonald accepts it unquestioned, if only because the interviewees control the tenor of the narrative. Instead of peeking behind the curtain, Macdonald marvels at its surface.”

I have a 2 pm screening of Terence Davies‘ The Deep Blue Sea, a film about an illicit affair and not about a killer shark, and then there’s this evening’s Westwood premiere of Wanderlust followed by an after-party. I’m not drinking or eating much these days so I’m not sure how I feel about socializing.

Filing from Berlin, Cineuropa.org’s Fabien Lemercier has posted a speculation piece about Cannes 2012. Possible American entries, he says, include Paul Thomas Anderson‘s The Master, Andrew Dominik‘s Cogan’s Trade with Brad Pitt, Wes Anderson‘s Moonrise Kingdom, Woody Allen‘s Nero Fiddled, Terrence Malick‘s Voyage of Time (the IMAX-y flow-of-time documentary component to Tree of Life) and possibly James Gray‘s Low Life.

Other likely-maybe’s include Michael Haneke‘s Love, Ken Loach‘s Angels Shares, Walter Salles‘ On the Road, David Cronenberg‘s Cosmopolis, Carlos Reygadas‘s Post Tenebras Lux, Abbas Kiarostami‘s The End, Pablo Trapero‘s Elefante blanco, Wong Kar Wai‘s The Grandmaster, Matteo Garrone‘s Big House and Jacques Audiard‘s Rust and Bone.

Possibly more serious contenders are Olivier Assayas‘s Something in the Air, Sergei Loznitsa‘s In The Fog, Michel Gondry‘s The We and the I, Ulrich Seidl‘s Paradise trilogy, Hong Sang-soo‘s Another Country, Im Sang-soo‘s The Taste of Money and Xavier Dolan‘s Laurence Anyways.

It’s no secret that millions of Americans care a lot more about their relationships with pets than with other humans, and that any public person known to have been heartless with a pet is going to incur their disdain. Mitt Romney‘s Seamus-on-the-roof story is really going to hurt him in the general election — seriously. Dog cruelty is only slightly less deplorable than child abuse in the eyes of tens of millions. Here’s the Dogs Against Romney site and its corresponding Facebook page.

From my 1.4.12 piece about the Seamus incident: “Anyone who would put a dog inside a carrier strapped to the roof of a car moving 70 mph for hours and hours is one cold fuck of a human being. I would never do that to a dog, even to some stray I’d just found on the side of a road. Seamus is a social-political metaphor, all right.”

Captain! Captain! German U-boat sighting off the port bow! Torpedos heading this way! Hard left rudder, man! Harder! Do you want this ship to sink?

Disney’s $250 million John Carter, a sci-fi fanboy adventure pic that opens in three weeks (Friday, 3.9), is in some kind of trouble, and maybe worse than that. A couple of hours ago Deadline‘s Nikki Finke reported that it’s all but dead due to soft tracking. (“Dead” in relation to the huge cost and prospective return, I mean.) There’s even concern, voiced by a rival studio exec, that “this could be the biggest write-off of all time.”

Maybe it’s as bad as all that or maybe not, but the situation obviously isn’t good .

“Our world is dying,” a female voice says on the Carter trailer. “You may be the only one who can save us.” I hear awful dialogue like that and I look at the blatantly CG-ish effects, and I just turn away. Pathetic.

The marketing exec who would be tickled pink if Carter goes down says that tracking is “2 unaided, 53 aware, 27 definitely interested and 3 first choice.” I’m not a tracking expert, okay, but I know enough about it to know that these numbers are not what anyone would call encouraging. A second studio guy tells Finke that the tracking report “just came out [and] women of all ages have flat out rejected the film.”

Captain! Water pouring into the engine room! Tell the crew to put on lifejackets and prepare to evacuate! Brrnnng! Brrnng!

Slashfilm’s Peter Sciretta tweeted last night that “the first big press screening of John Carter happened tonight but no one is allowed to tweet their reactions.” Does that mean it blows or…? If John Carter is taking on water and possibly in danger of foundering, wouldn’t Disney publicists at least want some spirited geek buzz flying around to help raise the stock?

Calling all geeks and fanboys! John Carter needs your help! Sciretta! Devin Faraci! Katey Rich! All the freeloaders attending the John Carter press junket in Carefree, Arizona…we need you! Wait…is Ed Douglas there?

“Disney is nervous, really nervous, but trying to hold out some hope,” Finke writes. “‘We know that we have a long way to go,’ a Disney insider confides. ‘It’s still four weeks out, and the bulk of the media hasn’t hit yet. Our Super Bowl ad did what we intended it to do: have a pop of awareness. On Sunday we launch a full campaign with 90% of all of our media ready to go.”

Eighteen months ago Deadline reported that Meryl Streep and Julia Roberts would team on a Weinstein Co. film adaptation of August: Osage County under director John Wells, with expectations of filming in the summer of 2011. But a long delay ensued (largely due to playwright Tracy Letts taking forever to adapt his play into screenplay form) and Streep and Roberts were thought by some to have flown the coop.

But a month ago Deadline‘s Pete Hammond reported the actreses were definitely back on the project and that filming would begin in September for a late 2013 release. Today Streep and Roberts’ involvement was officially announced by the Weinstein Co. (along with intentions to shoot in the fall), and many treated this like big news.

A hippy-dippy woman open to making love as a spiritual gesture or exercise can quickly lose interest when the recipient of her largesse starts talking crudely about slamming ham, etc. Watching this kind of prolonged miscommunication isn’t the least bit funny. There’s never been a 30something married guy (which Paul Rudd is playing) who’s ever been this clueless. Not on this planet. Which is why the scene just lies there.

Because the idea isn’t to be “funny” but to make a point that stodgy married guys are too thick or slow-witted to betray their wives even when the “other woman” has openly invited their attentions. This is roughly the same idea used by Hall Pass, that glumly unfunny Owen Wilson-Jason Sudekis film. Married guys don’t have a clue when it comes to cheating so don’t worry, girls! Strictly a sop.

I should have posted this yesterday but all I had was the cat, and I was too lazy to find my own b & w Marty mugshot to complement it. The trick now is to find animals (wild or domestic) that other major nominees resemble. Seriously — I’ll post the best of them.

4:40 pm Update: HE reader Zach has visualized his Gary Oldman/swamp turtle from Neverending Story suggestion:

This from HE reader Martin Blank:

This from TimDG:

The only thing that can lift my Oscar spirits is something that can’t possibly happen — a suprise Demian Bichir win for Best Actor. That is the only thing that could possibly turn me on (other that Billy Crystal‘s patter) during the 2.26 telecast. This is going to be one of the dullest and least surprising Oscar shows in history.

It seem as if the Viola Davis-and-Octavia Spencer coronation has already happened, for the most part. I’d feel differently if Brad Pitt or George Clooney had a real shot at Best Actor, or if Moneyball‘s Bennett Miller had been nominated for Best Director (110% deserved) or if Mychael Danna‘s Moneyball score had been nominated. But I’ve got nothing to invest in here.

A couple of more years like this and the Oscars will be in real trouble.