As happens so often, David Poland says it best: "I have to say, after feeling like it was a very soft year in Toronto, looking through the book makes me hungry for another week of screenings from the festival." And that's the thing -- I'm stressing with an inner voice that looks and sounds like Don Knotts gulping how my Toronto reviews are late, late, late -- and in many cases, these are for movies that won't be opening up in the world for months. Why is it that living in the future -- in the small way that film festivals let you -- isn't seen as a gift, but as a crisis? Natural pessimist, I guess. Or just feeling old.

I got a great, dumb piece of promo this week -- not the Thank You For Smokingsmoking baby doll or the Nightmare on Elm Street 'stay awake' kit, nice as they are. I mean, I get this stuff rarely, and I can't imagine what I'd do if I got more -- there must be a dumpster out back of Entertainment Weekly like the Vatican of some t-shirt and frisbee cargo cult -- but a lot of the time, it's stupid: A cat carrier and stuffed ferret for a lame rom-com? (See, I didn't even mention it! Take that, backers of Along Came Polly ... oops.) But this week, I get ... a belt. Whose big-ass buckle is the stylized 'X' of the X-Men films, to promote the upcoming DVD release of X-Men: The Last Stand. (I guess graphic design is one thing even Brett Ratner can't screw up.) It has the mutant power to hold up my pants. I'm wearing it right freaking now. I may be old, but I was 14 once, too, you know.

J.