Depalma’s latest is “The Blecch Dullard.” There are hints of the savage lunacy of the book amped up by the director’s own perverse pleasures–and Hilary Swank is actually fun to watch, playing not just against but actively destructive of type. But sheesh. I could barely keep my eyes open at Hartnettian half-mast. Scarlett Johansson ends up seeming silly in puffy poodle sweaters, Aaron Eckhart gets a few moments of just-right before being delegated to the sidelines for “Benzedrine mania” (which more closely resembles hyperventilating than passion), and Josh Hartnett… well, I’m waiting for him to break out . . . wait for it . . . of pictures, not in ’em! YEAH! That’s what I’m talking about! Ka-ZING!