THE big question today is, can Scotland win? Not the World Cup. The question isn't quite as silly as that, but the top prize for the best film here, the Palme d'Or, and the best actor prize. Ken Loach's My Name is Joe, about a reformed Glasgow alcoholic, is the film; its star, Peter Mullan, the likely lad. Both have been popular with the juries and critics in the three main daily trade newspapers, but the official Cannes jury is notoriously unpredictable no matter who is on it, and while this has been a dire year in the main competition, there are rivals for both awards.

Loach has won the lesser Jury Prize twice, has been bringing his films here for nearly 20 years, and it could be his turn to get the Palme. The trouble is that while My Name is Joe is undeniably the work of an old master, it is dreadfully like an awful lot he has made in the past. But this has been a competition short on innovation, long on competence. To date, and for obvious reasons, I have not seen this morning's entry, Eternity And A Day, by the celebrated Greek director Theo Angelopolos. There have been no films to thrill, no Pulp Fiction, no Strictly Ballroom, no Cyrano de Bergerac. Tepid is the overall tone.

As for Angelopolos, he threw a memorable wobbler when they gave him a consolation prize for Ulysses's Gaze two years ago. His speech of ''thanks'' was anything but. There is a school of thought which thinks that this year, the Festival will make it up to him, because he, too, is a Cannes regular.

But there are newcomers, one of whom is the actor John Turturro with his film Illuminata. About a turn of the century Italian theatrical troupe, it is splendidly acted and toys with big ideas about love, illusion, and truth. He won the Camera d'Or two years ago for his first film Mac and is a Cannes favourite, having starred in films like the Cohen brothers' Barton Fink. Like Martin Scorsese, the jury chairman, he is an Italian American. That could count for something, and the film is certainly pretentious. Roberto Benigni, the Italian comedian, reputedly had the actresses on the jury in tears by the end of his film, La Vita e Bella. This starts off in the sunshine of the pre-war years in Italy and then moves to a Nazi labour camp where Benigni, who also stars, manages to conceal his small son. It is a fable, has been highly popular in Italy, and artistically, is daring. John Boorman, another

Cannes veteran, has The General in competition, which is based on the life of the Irish gangster, Martin Cahill, who was assassinated by the IRA. It has been much admired and Brendan Gleason, who plays Cahill, gives a masterly performance.

Lars Von Trier, of Breaking The Waves fame, was thought to have come up with another daring and imaginative film, but in fact Idioterne proved to be an outright stinker. It is the sort of movie about which people who go to film festivals always say: ''But it has some lovely moments.'' A group of mentally impaired Danes living in a commune find mutual support, tease the world at large by pretending to be dafter than they really are, and make cinema history by having full penetrative sex on screen.

It lasts for a few seconds, which may be true to life but will give the film certification people a headache when it comes to Britain. The better Danish film is Celebration, directed by Thomas Vinterberg, about a rich family celebrating their father's 60th birthday. When it comes to the toasts, the eldest son announces that he and his sister were sexually abused by the father. Everyone pretends not to have heard and he tries again, accusing his father of being responsible for his sister's death and his mother of knowing all about the abuse but turning a blind eye. It is very entertaining, as other families' rows always are. So too is Those Who Love Me Will Take The Train, directed by Patrice Chereau, about the relatives of a bisexual painter travelling from Paris to Limoges to attend his funeral. The cast includes the cream of French cinema, ranging from Jean-Louis Trintignant to Charles

Berling. Heart-throb Vincent Perez, cast against type and aided by a magnificent make-up job, plays a transsexual. The skeletons in the family cupboard are quite something.

The American independent director Hal Hartley has Henry Fool in competition, a witty account of the impact a charlatan teacher has on the life of the ultimate nerd, and Tod Haynes has made something of an impression with Film Four's Velvet Goldmine, a story about glam rockers starring Ewan McGregor.

All of this is fine and there are one or two others which have their admirers, but it really adds up to a very poor year indeed. Things come to an end tomorrow when the awards are presented followed by the European premier of Godzilla, the ultimate monster movie.