An instinct told me to duck this morning’s Bruno Damont film. A critic friend tells me my instinct was correct. My first task of the day is the Deadline party around 3:30 pm, and then, God help me, a 7 pm screening of Maren Ade‘s 162-minute Toni Erdmann, which appears to be a riff on Boudu Saved From Drowning/Down and Out in Beverly Hills. I’m not saying I won’t attend tomorrow morning’s screening of Steven Spielberg‘s The BFG. I’m saying that barring some astonishing realignment or reconfiguration of creative instincts on Spielberg’s part, my inclination — no offense, no surprise — is to find ways to dismiss this film. A family-friendly creation like this can play here…promotion, whatever…but it’s not a Cannes film. It soils the atmosphere.

Wild horses couldn’t keep me away from Monday night’s 10:30 pm screening of the restored One-Eyed Jacks, but I asked this morning if there’s some kind of private follow-up p & i screening for those who are afraid of staying up until 2 am when all is said and done.