Peter Yates‘ The Friends of Eddie Coyle (’73), still unavailable on DVD, is playing tonight and tomorrow at the Brattle theatre in Cambridge as part of a “Boston Filmed” series. I’ve heard about that bootleg version that’s been mastered from an old VHS tape, but who in their right mind would want to watch such a thing?

The Envelope‘s Pete Hammond is reporting that Todd Haynes‘ I’m Not There didn’t play very well with a smallish Academy group. The Bob Dylan epic “lived up to its title and gathered a much smaller academy group that saw a few walkouts,” he writes, “according to two members who were both unimpressed — even by Cate Blanchett‘s bravura supporting turn as one of six Dylans.

“‘I think the only people who will like this thing are the ones who love this guy’s music,” one academy voter told Hammond. Once again, obiter dicta — “this guy’s music” — has revealed a bit more than intended.

Academy members are not obliged to worship, like or even admire I’m Not There, but Academy slugs like the person quoted above are an embarassment. More than that — they’re an obstruction. They cheapen and devalue movie culture by dismissing rich, valuable films, not out of conviction or distaste but impatient sloth. Like an ADD-afflicted child might toss aside a toy or video game, or the way my father — a shadow of the man he used to be — dismisses new writers and movies because he doesn’t care to get into anything new. The mind-blowing element is that Dylan is ancient history and the person quoted above still regards him askance.

What a revoltin’ development that all this Oscar season energy and passion and promotion being focused on trying to second-guess the opinions of people like this. The colors and currents of the world streaming into our souls through esprit du cinema, and yet many handicappers will only talk up the Oscar potential of films that have the approval of obviously stunted people — folks who’ve worked long and hard and distinguished themselves in this or that way over the course of their lives, but are alive and engaged right now only in the barest sense.

Just acknowledging what I’ve failed to point out (despite everyone else having done so), which is that Michael Clayton will probably break even — made for $20 million (George Clooney took nothing), now at $37,181,284, will hit $40 million — so that early rap of being a financial under-performer that was slung around its neck for a few weeks doesn’t apply. For a smart, mildly grim, somewhat challenging film about corporate lawyers pulling this and that string, that’s an accomplishment.

Pete Hammond has written about having done a recent post-screening q & a with Clooney, and quotes him as saying he “made slightly more [for Clayton] than I did on Return of the Killer Tomatoes, but not much.”

I’ve never felt that Clayton is Best Picture material. It’s a very smart, complex adult drama. It played for me a little better the second time than the first, and it’s been building ever since. I wouldn’t argue against Tony Gilroy‘s film if someone were to say to me, “No, it’s sublime! It’s one of the top five!” I would just say “yeah, I love it too, but do you honestly feel it’s on the same level as Zodiac or There Will Be Blood or No Country for Old Men or I’m Not There?” But I wouldn’t argue against it.

Choosing big-category favorites each week for the weekly Envelope Oscar prognosticator chart is not something I look forward to. I sit there and I choose, but it’s like throwing darts. It feels vaguely irritating because I can’t quite give myself over to saying this film or that performance is “better.” Something’s not kicking in. All I’m certain of is that I don’t like the idea of choosing a comfort-blanket movie for Best Picture simply because it’s soothes, caresses and reassures.

The aroma, the prevailing winds and the dandelion pollen hall have all but convinced me that Charlie Wilson’s War and Sweeney Todd are out of the Best Picture race. I know without question that the top seven “best of the best” are American Gangster, Before The Devil Knows You’re Dead, No Country for Old Men, Once, The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford, Things We Lost in the Fire and Zodiac.

And right behind these are I’m Not There, Atonement , The Bourne Ultimatum, Control, In The Valley of Elah (the rough-cut version minus the Annie Lennox song) and Ratatouile.

A relaxed, amusing and wide-open Charlie Rose sit-down with Joel and Ethan Coen, Javier Bardem and Josh Brolin.

I was talking with Bardem, Miramax chief Daniel Battsek and some others associated with the film at the No Country party during the Toronto Film Festival, and Bardem said at one point, “We are all very lucky.” And I was immediately struck by his perfect delivery of this line. Not in a champagne-toasting, smiling, cheers-around-the-room sort of way, but with an air of relaxation and matter-of-fact acknowledgement. He wasn’t saying that good fortune was rote — he was smiling and he meant it — but he wasn’t making a huge deal out of it either.

Make a really good film that everyone loves and, of course, you’re very lucky, but we’re all luckier than we care to acknowledge. Right?

We all know how how some tunes seep in at odd moments — most often in the car — and sometimes hang around longer than you might expect. Some never leave. It’s strange how this one has sunk in since first hearing it a year or two ago. It has something to do with the no-discernible-lyrics aspect (due to that ancient backwards-tape trick of 35 or 40 years ago) and the way it all comes together at the very end (which, in this case, is the very beginning). On top of which susceptibility increases around the holidays. We all listen to music a bit more when things slow down. Happy Turkey McNuggets.

90% agreement on this Oscar-race thought from Jamie Stuart: “I’m just thinking about the ubiquitous Oscar blogging, and various ideas of what is and isn’t an Oscar film. There are four movies this year that will one day be recognized as classics that will not win Best Picture: No Country for Old Men, I’m Not There, Zodiac and There Will Be Blood.

“Only one of thse may be nominated, at best. Something to think about. 35 years ago they’d all have been nominated.” Exception: I’m not sure that There Will Be Blood would have ever been nominated, even in the early ’70s, and I’m not sure about I’m Not There either.

I’d love to get into Denzel Washington‘s The Great Debaters, which I saw this evening, but it’s early yet. Discussions and terms await. But it’s essential to mention Nate Parker, who plays one of three African-American debaters (the other two played by Jurnee Smollett and Denzel Whitaker) from Wiley College in 1935 who wound up debating the Harvard University team, under the guidance of Washington’s Melvin B. Tolson.

Nate Parker

I’ve never seen Parker before, but he’s got it. He’s charismatic, good-looking…a “tan” Paul Newman (as Newman was in The Young Philadelphians) who looks people in the eye cool and steady, and perhaps has a slight weakness for women.

Parker has only been in the game since ’04. He’s acted only on TV and in crappy movies so far. (I missed his supporting performance in Pride, the swim-team sports movie with Terrence Howard and Bernie Mac that opened last March.) Worse, his next two are low-rent exploitation films — Tunnel Rats (directed by — yipes! — Uwe Boll) and Felon. The Great Debaters is Parker’s first and only A-level effort. He needs to build on it and move in another direction, or in five years he’ll be Dorian Harewood. It’s his call.

All I know is, Parker has a quality, a presence, a vibe. He could be another Denzel. A small group I spoke with after tonight’s screening agreed on this point, or at least that he’s Newman-esque. It’ll be intriguing to see what happens.

It’s a relatively rare thing for a famous actress to take a role in a film that she knows without question is going to be absolutely despised by anyone with a smidgen of taste or refinement. Such is the case with Sienna Miller, holding her nose for a total paycheck job, agreeing to star in Stephen Sommers‘ G.I. Joe. Like the immensely successful Transformers, G.I. Joe will be a live-action film based on a toy line. There is synchronicity also in Sommers being regarded, like Transformers helmer Michael Bay, as a major demonic figure. Paramount is funding, shooting begins in mid-February ’08, and the opening is set for 8.7.09.

Pre-Thanksgiving tracking suggests a newbie race between Enchanted (78, 36 and 13) and Hitman (60, 35 and 13) — the latter has young males and something of an edge. August Rush will bring up the rear with 53, 34 and 9. Stephen King’s The Mist is just behind at 63, 31 and 8, and No Country for Old Men is at 49, 33 and 6. (It’s the best reviewed and most talked-about film of the last couple of weeks and a big buzz title since Cannes, and half of the Lazy-Boy potatoes contacted for the tracking survey have never heard of it.)

The Golden Compass opens on 12.7 (two weeks from Friday) and it’s only at 69, 24 and 4. New Line has its work cut out — this could mean trouble. I Am Legend (12.14) is three weeks out and doing much better — 65, 46 and 9. Will Smith irritates more often than not, but he’s a very bankable star.

Today’s big Writers Guild march down Hollywood Blvd. was well-attended and appropriately raucous. Sandra Oh, Akiva Goldsman, Frances Fischer, Jeanne Tripplehorn and others helped carry the lead banner with WGAW president Patrick Verrone in the point position. Alicia Keys sang two songs from a sound truck before it all began. The march was supposed to start around 1 pm, but didn’t begin, movement-wise, around 1:40 or so.

WGA marchers at Hollywood Blvd. just west of Ivar — Tuesday, 11.29.07, 1:43 pm

Button — Tuesday, 11.29.07, 1:30 pm

WGAW throng listening to Alicia Keys — 1:22 pm

EW columnist Mark Harris recently ran a list of things to remember in calibrating the Oscar race, including four that apply to online columnists:

1. “Don’t trust any handicapper who’s beating a drum too loudly,” Harris warns. “In the last few years, bloggers have blurred the line between Oscar prediction and advocacy — something that has had no discernible effect on the nominations, but has lowered their batting average. Nine out of 10 bad calls are made because you love or hate a movie so intensely you’re blind to reason. Everybody relishes making an out-on-a-limb guess that pays off, but try to keep one foot on planet Earth: If you’re the only one talking up Billy Bob Thornton for Mr. Woodcock, it’s not because everybody else is an idiot.”

HE response: So beating a passionate drum for the incontestably great Zodiac ** as a Best Picture contender or Benicio del Toro or Sam Riley for Best Actor means a columnist is untrustworthy? Dispassionate pundits and finger-to-the-wind pulse-readers are a dime a dozen. Gotta feel it, gotta want it, gotta lay it on the line. “Reason” is the last thing you want to bring into a debate about movies. (Are Boston Red Sox fans “reasonable”?) Be reasonable, Mr. Prognosticator. People love Chicago, the singing and dancing make them feel good, and it’s going to win the Best Picture Oscar. Sit down and be reasonable and accept the genius of the crowd.

2. “Keep internet noise in perspective,” Harris cautions. “Remember that Oscar voters don’t follow every who’s-up/who’s-down microtwitch; they’re busy seeing (or making) movies. And bear in mind that some of those bloggers tend to get chest-thumpy about a certain type of (usually male, usually violent) film: This year, a lot of bluster is already massing around No Country for Old Men and There Will Be Blood. They’re contenders, but rhetoric doesn’t equal votes.”

HE response: Fair enough, but anyone who dismisses No Country because of its ending..forget it. That drum has been beaten enough over the last couple of days.

3. “Don’t trust lingo,” Harris cautions. “Memorize these translations: ‘Insiders tell me…’ (Meaning: I talked to a publicist.) ‘Word on the street is…’ (Meaning: I talked to a publicist.) ”The Academy screening went well.’ (Meaning: The Academy screening took place.) ‘Voters are leaning toward…’ (Meaning: I am completely making this up.)”

HE response: There’s obviously truth in what Harris says, but there is also a very real thing that I’ve described a couple of times as “intellectual dandelion pollen” — ideas, moods and intellectual currents that float and swirl around and seep into people’s ears and heads. If you have what I’ve long referred to as “insect antennae” — two invisible mood/current/state-of-the-zeitgeist detectors sticking out of the top of your head — you can feel read what’s being felt, what’s catching on or cooling off, what’s being re-assessed.

4. “Beware numerical formulas,” says Harris. “A prognosticator who tells you, ”Only four times in history has the second-place finisher in the New York Film Critics Circle also received a SAG nomination and still failed to…’ is working too hard. Math can’t trump instinct.”

HE response: Total agreement.

** The fact that safety-zone bloggers haven’t supported, much less acknowledged, Zodiac‘s greatness means it probably won’t be nominated by the Academy, but that doesn’t change what it is, how history will see it down the road, and how short-sighted those who pooh-poohed it will seem to their children and grandchildren.