I’m seeing Lee Chang-dong‘s Burning at 6 pm, or 50 minutes from now. Every Cannes critic raved, including two or three who told me I’d made a huge mistake by missing it. I may have bypassed it because of the 148-minute length. “It’s a psychological thriller about class and resentment,” I told myself. “And therefore comes with certain perimeters and expectations. Does it really need to be two and a half hours long?” I’ll know the answer soon enough.