Celebrity sighting! Following the screening of A Mighty Heart by Michael Winterbottom, Angelina Jolie is about to enter the Palais for the press conference. I don't actually see Ms. Jolie, but I do see the the braying pack on hand for the photo call, as well as flashbulbs popping from the terrace out the window. Well, it's a demi-sighting. And from here in the Orange (i.e. France Telecom) Wifi room, I see Brad Pitt on the telly, suited up, but resembling the hustler from Thelma and Louise. Wait a mo: according to my fave supermarket literature, didn't the Brangelinas split? Come to think of it, I'd rather gawk at Dan Futterman of the sexy eyes, who plays Danny Pearl.

Today is Day 6 of the festival. That's the thing about Cannes – Day 6 is the only day that exists, as if God were recreating the universe. Haven't cracked a Times since Kennedy. It's as absorbing here as downhill skiing. And almost as dicey -- in fact, the swollen pack of journos, cinephiles and Sylvia Miles lookalikes trying to pour through narrow checkpoints is getting friggin' dangerous. The local papers reported a “scrimmage” in the Palais at a screening of a film later judged mediocre.

So, it's entirely fitting that Philip Zombardo has arrived on the Croisette. Zimbardo's the researcher who set up the famous prison guard experiment to demonstrate that, given the circumstances, we all have the potential to deteriorate into sadistic louts.

INTERRUPTION FOR CELEBRITY ALERT. Marianne Pearl is at the Mighty Heart press conference. Angelina: “I was very nervous about getting it right.” Pearl: “I'm not going to describe my private emotions.” Brad: “the project was very important to us.” Ange: “it came from a very organic place, as most films do.”

Restylane alert: Angelina's lips look ready to take over her entire face.

Back to Philip Zimbardo. As with the prison guards, Day 6 has brought a Cannes tipping point. People with normally pleasant manners, including myself, are turning loutish. Lined up in the cattle pens for No Country for Old Men from the Brothers Coen, I found myself harboring unworthy thoughts. Like “that one has a fat ass,” as a sea of pink badges mounted the Potemkin-like stairs of the Debussy.

Finally, they green-light the blues. Caught in the stampede to secure a seat, I'm shouldered aside by a Slovenian footballer. I point out to him that he's bigger and possibly fitter than me, despite my years of Pilates, and moreover some of the old-fashioned niceties might be in order, but I get no response (and sprint past him on the stairs).

Happily, some uphold the niceties. Like the Brit who said, So you wait an hour, and don't get in. Hell, I can always see it in a theater. I've brought a good book, the weather's great, etc.

As for the small matter of the film, No Country is an adaptation by Joel and Ethan Coen of the novel by Cormac McCarthy. It tracks the cyclone of mayhem unleashed in a Texan outpost when a drug deal goes wrong. Was the film worth the aggravation of the wait? Yes and no. The Texan-inflected dialogue is darkly funny. And Josh Brolin nails a Western everyman who makes off with a stash in order to please his wife, but is no match for the principle of evil embodied in Javier Bardem, who kills based on a coin toss. But at heart this is a gussied-up chase film that fails to access the novel's larger meanings. And it's always risky to adapt a great stylist, such as McCarthy, because the style is the whole point.

Okay, you really want to know what's going on with the Brangelinas. First, an insight on Brad Pitt that I should have saved for Parade. He's actually rather blushing and shy in his responses, and almost defers to A., as if she's the brains of the family. A's view on journalism: “when the paparazzi descended on Marianne, I could identify with her pain." Winterbottom: “I was not trying to preach a particular message – I was trying to show a situation.” Brad, getting in the groove: “to create a dialogue, you have to have an unbiased perception of a situation to move forward ... As a global community we seem to be failing ... We need to hear the other side, instead of jumping to demonization ... I found the strength of Marianne through this situation an epiphany [uh oh, Strunk and White alert!]

Finally: last night I saw The Orphanage, a Spanish film so deliciously scary, the audience screamed out loud at the terrifying moments. And this being Cannes, they also applauded the terrifying moments. There's even a character who looks like Tony Perkins's stuffed mom, only this one's alive. Set in a spooky manor on a desolate coast, the film dispenses with special effects and infuses the horror genre with compelling characters, plausible motives, and themes that transcend the usual hants and creaking doors.

Stay tuned: Gus Van Sant's latest is a winner.