Scrappy, despondent, somewhat resourceful Cheryl Strayed (Reese Witherspoon) goes on a thousand-mile journey-of-self-discovery hike in Wild , another in a long line of solo survival-in-the-wilderness tales (127 Hours, All Is Lost, Gravity, Tracks). Witherspoon handles herself pretty well. Okay , quite well — it’s one of those “watch me get down and pull out the stops” award-season performances. But the movie…I don’t know, man. It didn’t feel right at first — emphatic, hasty, tonally off in some way — and then it felt moderately okay and then better-than-half-decent in a tapestry-weave sort of way during the last half hour or so. I’m sorry but Wild is…well, some (many?) women will like it. That was my take-away from the Chuck Jones screening that broke around 4:30 or 5 pm. Some women and some guys, I guess (two were weeping during the screening). But smart-ass guys like myself are going to be checking their watches. I think it’s somewhere between (a) an earnest mixed-bag — a hit-and-misser that starts out poorly but gains as it moves along, and (b) a shortfaller. I didn’t hate it. It didn’t annoy me but I didn’t empathize a great deal with Witherspoon’s Strayed. I admire her determination and to some extent her survival skills but much of the film is about her depending on the kindness of strangers, at least a few of whom are nursing fantasies of getting sexual favors. On top of which she’s not the best prepared hiker. (Planning for ways to replenish your water supply helps.). On top of which Reese/Cheryl experiences far too many dream-flashbacks of her late mom, played by Laura Dern. It felt to me like there 30 or 35 Dern flashes. I was starting to go “later” when the 20th appeared. (Written on iPhone while waiting in line outside Werner Herzog theatre to see The Imitation Game.)

I remember darkness from my childhood and teen years. You’d go outside around 9 or 10 pm and you’d either have enough moonlight to make out certain shapes or it would be so dark you could barely see your hand. There were streetlights, of course, but I’ve got myself convinced that they weren’t as bright as they are today. Darkness has been all but presently eradicated in urban and suburban areas. Everything under the stars is lamped up and flooded with glare. But not in Telluride. There’s darkness all over, and it’s wonderful. The moonlight is low right now so it’s even better. The stars are amazing. And the crisp piney aroma and the cool, flirting-with-cold night air (you needed jackets and scarves last night)…this is really a place that’s been excused (or has escaped) from the 21st Century in all the best ways.

This, from my perspective, is an exceptional, quite brilliant trailer. This is it — the mini-version, the bullets, the sex, the snippets, the all of it, the bottles and bottles of vodka, the Phillip Glassyness, the symphonic smack…wow.

You can walk right into a little downtown Telluride store called the Green Room and buy a modest amount of potent weed. Out-of-staters don’t get to buy the same quantity as Colorado residents but so what? This is 21st Century Colorado, and nobody blinks an eye. I haven’t turned on in decades but as a pot smoker in my 20s I almost regarded myself as a kind of outlaw. I completely accepted this identity back then — everyone did. But I still had a few friends who were popped for possession and two or three who were busted for weight and did time.

From the website: “Telluride, Colorado’s leading medical and recreational marijuana dispensary in variety and quality. We are the provider of the finest, most reasonably priced, diverse marijuana medicines and products to serve your medical needs. In addition to our medicine we have a selection of books and artwork to educate and enlighten you.”

The Telluride Film festival is tributing Francis Coppola‘s Apocalypse Now, or rather its 35th anniversary. People forget that it was released on 8.15.79, which by today’s standards would indicate a dump strategy. There’s a big, knock-your-socks-off screening this afternoon (2 pm) at the Werner Herzog theatre, followed by an on-stage discussion between Coppola, cinematographer Vittoria Storaro, co-screenwriter John Milius, editor-sound designer Walter Murch (who was on my Pheonix-to-Durango flight), producer Fred Roos and moderator Scott Foundas. Coppola’s classic will screen again at the Chuck Jones tomorrow morning at 8:30 am.

I would love to attend for the rollicking recall aspect, but the first big screening of Jean-Marc Vallee‘s Wild (un-announced on the schedule) is happening at the same time, and this is a here-and-now creation. At the end of the day I just can’t justify a nostalgia sink-in, as much as I’d like to go there. I’ve seen Apocalypse Now 10 or 12 times, and the Redux version three or four. This is the Telluride heartache factor — there are always three if not four high-interest screenings happening against each other and it’s always a tough call. But you have to go with the new. If I succumb to second thoughts I can always catch Apocalypse tomorrow morning.

I arrived in Telluride around 6:15 pm. The rental (three stories if you count the converted basement) is at 548 West Pacific, or rather the alley (i.e., almost a street) behind that address. I went for groceries, roamed around, said hello to Leslee Dart, Baz Bamigboye and Peggy Siegal in front of the Sheridan Hotel, etc. Just the usual setting-up, getting-ready, breathing-in-the-thin-mountain-air stuff. Eugene Hernandez and pallies are having some sort of gathering over at the Sheridan right now (i.e., 10:15 pm). Friday morning, 6:50 am: A sizable assembly at the Sheridan last night. Life Itself director Steve James, Ryan Werner, Sony Pictures Classics Michael Barker and Tom Bernard (all hail Leviathan!), Indiewire‘s Anne Thompson, Film Society of Lincoln Center’s Eugene Hernandez, James Rocchi (jacket-less due to United having misplaced his luggage), In Contention‘s Kris Tapley. Shots of tequila, gang’s all here. I stayed for about an hour. Flopped at 12:30, awoke at 5:30.

Telluride’s Main Street around 7:40 pm. I take the exact same shot every year. Everyone does.

The place has peaked roofs, a fake fireplace, three bedrooms, two and a half bathrooms, four TVs, a nice kitchen. It has something that resembles (or which I’m calling for the time being) industrial ribbed siding — feels like weathered tin.

Grilled cheese will be my downfall. Right next to outdoor Abel Gance theatre.

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It was announced this morning that Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt were married five days ago inside “a small chapel” near their huge chateau in the French hamlet of Correns. Congratulations and best wishes, but what has my interest is Pitt’s use of the term “concretized.” He used it in an AP interview that ran after their engagement was announced in November 2012, to wit: “[Marriage] is an exciting prospect, even though for us, we’ve gone further than that. But to concretize it in that way, it actually means more to me than I thought it would. It means a lot to our kids.” I can honestly say that I’ve never once read or spoken the word “concretize” before this morning. Pitt obviously meant the word to be synonymous with “affirm” or “ratify”or “consecrate.” It would have been equally grammatically correct if he had said “epoxy-ized” or “Elmer’s-Glue-All-icized”…right?

With everyone on their way this morning to the 41st Telluride Film Festival (I’m heading out to Burbank Airport at 8 am), the slate has been officially announced. No surprises this year with Toronto having pretty much given the game away by classifying this and that film as a Canadian premiere, which meant a Telluride debut. The only film I wasn’t necessarily expecting to see in Telluride was THE 50 YEAR ARGUMENT (d. Martin Scorsese, David Tedeschi, U.K.-U.S., 2014). What are the expected or hoped-for titles that didn’t get chosen? I can’t get into this now. Taxi’s waiting, blowing his horn…already I’m so lonesome I could cry.

In alphabetical order: ’71 (d. Yann Demange, U.K., 2014 — saw it in Berlin last February); 99 HOMES (d. Ramin Bahrani, U.S., 2014); BIRDMAN (d. Alejandro González Iñárritu, U.S., 2014); DANCING ARABS (d. Eran Riklis, Israel-Germany-France, 2014); THE DECENT ONE (d. Vanessa Lapa, Australia-Israel-Germany, 2014); DIPLOMACY (d. Volker Schlöndorff, France-Germany, 2014); FOXCATCHER (d. Bennett Miller, U.S., 2014 — seen in Cannes last May by almost everyone); THE GATE (d. Régis Wargnier, France-Belgium-Cambodia, 2014); THE HOMESMAN (d. Tommy Lee Jones, U.S., 2014 — debuted in Cannes, decent but don’t get overly excited); THE IMITATION GAME (d. Morten Tyldum, U.K.-U.S., 2014); LEVIATHAN (d. Andrey Zvgagintsev, Russia, 2014); THE LOOK OF SILENCE (d. Joshua Oppenheimer, Denmark-Indonesia-Norway-Finalnd-U.S., 2014); MADAME BOVARY (d. Sophie Barthes, U.K.-Belgium, 2014); MERCHANTS OF DOUBT (d. Robert Kenner, U.S., 2014); MOMMY (d. Xavier Dolan, Canada, 2014….saw most of it in Cannes); MR. TURNER (d. Mike Leigh, U.K., 2014); THE PRICE OF FAME (d. Xavier Beauvois, France, 2014); RED ARMY (d. Gabe Polsky, U.S.-Russia, 2014); ROSEWATER (d. Jon Stewart, U.S., 2014); THE SALT OF THE EARTH (d. Wim Wenders, Juliano Ribeiro Salgado, Brazil-Italy-France, 2014); TALES OF THE GRIM SLEEPER (d. Nick Broomfield, U.K.-U.S, 2014); TWO DAYS, ONE NIGHT (d. Luc Dardenne, Jean-Pierre Dardenne, Belgium-Italy-France, 2014); WILD (d. Jean-Marc Valleé, U.S., 2014); WILD TALES (d. Damián Szifrón, Argentina-Spain, 2014)

The announcement also says, as per custom, that “additional sneak previews may play outside the main program and will be announced on the Telluride Film Festival website over the course of the four-day weekend.”

Reviews of Jon Stewart‘s Rosewater (Open Road, 11.7), a drama about political imprisonment and torture inflicted upon Iranian journalist Maziar Bahari (Gale Garcia Bernal) in 2009 under Iran’s Ahmadinejad regime, were posted last night by trade critics. The response from Variety‘s Scott Foundas is respectful and encouraging, but the other three critics — The Hollywood Reporter‘s Todd McCarthy, Indiewire‘s Eric Kohn and TheWrap‘s Steve Pond — are saying “approved but rewards are modest.” Pic is expected to screen at the Telluride Film Festival this weekend as well as play the Toronto Film Festival next week.

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Sopranos creator David Chase has stated through representative Leslee Dart that in an 8.27 Vox.com interview piece, author Martha P. Nochimson misquoted or misunderstood Chase about the fate of Tony Soprano. I’ll try re-explaining things to Nochimson and everyone else who insists on denying the obvious. Tony Soprano sleeps with the fishes. He took one in the right temple and probably two more in the back of the head. He was clipped by that Italian-looking guy in that Members Only jacket…you know, that guy who was eyeballing him and then went into the bathroom and then came out. Thunk! Thunk, thunk! The cut to black was Tony’s abrupt loss of consciousness as the bullets slammed into his head. Carmela freaked and screamed; Anthony, Jr. probably tried some kind of tough-guy shit which the Members Only guy…who knows, maybe he clipped Anthony also. Then he went out the back exit. That’s what happened, trust me.

The none-too-bright individual known as Michael Egan has dropped his sexual abuse lawsuit against Bryan Singer, according to a Variety report. The guy goes to all kinds of trouble and then he blows off a modest cash offer (which so alienated his attorney Jeff Herman that he severed relations with Egan) and now this — a complete collapse. If you’re going to do something, man up and see it through. (As Bugsy Siegel put it, “If you’re gonna get tough with a guy, stick to it.”) And if you don’t have the horses to win your case, at least be smart enough to accept a “take it and go away” cash settlement when it’s offered. Egan previously dropped sexual abuse lawsuits against former Disney hotshot David Neuman and former TV exec Garth Ancier. What a lame-o.