AMY ADAMS, Enchanted
The most joyous performance of the year, Adams full on, committed mimicry of Disney princess not only elevated a so-so film, but rightfully made this actress a star. She sings and dances and makes the movie. While perhaps there isn't a precendant for the Academy Awards to honor roles like this (they don't care for comedy-- unless it's festival and cult approved a la Juno or Little Miss Sunshine-- or kids movies), I don't understand how you can not be completely charmed by Adams who is inventively silly without a shred of irony.
JOE ANDERSON, Across the Universe
"I'm a cross-dressing homosexual pacifist with a spot on my lung." An oddball choice, given the real star of this Beatles fantasia was Julie Taymor, but I couldn't stop watching Anderson. As Max, a well-bred slacker unhinged only by the Vietnam War, he's wonderful charismatic and quite a good singer, and even when the film gets a bit murky, somehow I felt grounded by Anderson's presense, and his rendition of "Happiness is a Warm Gun," is the most chilling beguiling sequence.
BENICIO DEL TORO, Things We Lost in the Fire
I didn't much care for Suzanne Bier's over-blown melodrama, but Del Toro brought the only element of truth here. Rarely has drug addiction been so hypnotically and honestly portrayed-- this wasn't a performance full of actorly tics and histrionic screams, but rather the sad destruction of a rotting body.
CHARLOTTE GAINSBOURG, I'm Not There
It's difficult to be the grounding character in the film so heavily populated, with each vignette fighting it out for screentime, but Gainsbourg, with her earthy presence does just that in Todd Haynes' hallucegenic Bob Dylan film. Playing Claire, the composite of his many loves, she provides a sort of center to the changing shifts around her. While I've enjoyed many of her previous films (The Science of Sleep, 21 Grams), this was the first time I ever really noticed her, and that sweet love-struck montage with Heath Ledger was dreamy when I first saw the film and now takes on a different level of serenity.
JENNIFER GARNER, Juno
On second viewing of my cinematic obsession, again I fell hard for Ellen Page, but I noticed a greater nuance in Garner's role of Vanessa. She comes across stiff and overly diplomatic, but it's a front for a woman desperate to mother someone, to fell for someone. Her husband has become someone she barely knows and I think she's balling everything up for a chance to unleasch greater emotion on something that give it back. Towards the end of the film, it's Garner who has the reverse turn character arc, and she subtly, but masterfully nails it. It's a surprise for the woman known best for her ass-kicking Alias and ill-fated Elecktra turns, and surprising that for all the media-fused love for Juno never really picked up any mentions for Garner, but I look forward to her next move.
ALLISON JANNEY, Hairspray or Juno
Janney was the most valuable player in two of last years best ensemble films, and played mothers in both films. Her Prudy Pingleton in Hairspray is a controlling bigot, and yet she's too smart an actress to make her a complete caricuture, even while tying her daughter Penny to her bed to prevent her from the outside world (and her black boyfriend.) While in Juno she's the no-nonsense Bren MacGuff dealing with her step-daughter's unplanned pregnancy. Juno jokingly calls her a "dick," but Janney is hilarious, making the most of her off-the-sidelines characters, while enstilling a brain and heart, like the best character actors do. There was probably never going to be any awardage for these turns, but she's still quite grand.
CATHERINE KEENER, Into the Wild
Bless the members of SAG, for they were the only ones to nominate the great Keener for her small, but beautiful role in Into the Wild. As hippie Jan she gives a performance of quiet sadness that permeates the entire film, even though she only has a small handfull of scenes. Trying to reconcile the loss of her son in wanderer Chris McCandless, Keener bears Jan's soul. It's half expectant from an actress who small role or not radiates the screen.
KELLY MacDONALD, No Country For Old Men
As the kind Carla Jean, she takes the simple doting wife role and makes it memorable with her faultless Texan accent. It's in MacDonald, that this bleak film has a heart, even though only a fleeting one. It's really all about her final scene (which would make a great Oscar clip-- doesn't that sway the AMPAS, it seems like it does all time) and her confrontation with Javier Bardem's menacing Anton Chigruh. It's strange that the years most honored film hasn't paid any attention to MacDonald--at least on her home turf (the BAFTA) acknowledged her, however watch the film again and pay close attention to the power of her final scene-- it's haunting.
KERI RUSSELL, Waitress
Second to Amy Adams, Russell gave the warmest, sun-shiniest performance of 2007, notable moreso in this year of gloom. She is vibrant and funny as Jenna, the small town pie maker, suddenly knocked up, who hooks up with her doctor (Nathan Fillion.) The best part of Waitress is Russell's post-coital montage of smiles, it's positively contagious, and you see a woman suddenly reborn and an actress ready to make her mark.
OWEN WILSON, The Darjeeling Limited
Valuing and judging Wilson's performance here, it's almost impossible not to think of the sad events that in his life plastered all over the news last summer, but whatever the case this is still the most soulful and revealing performance he has ever given. I've never been overly fond of Wilson as an actor before, but was quietly moved here. Wilson played Francis Whitman, who aboard an Indian train with his two estranged brothers, searching for spiritual enlightenment.
The Wes Anderson visuals get in the way of the performances a few times, but Wilson is haunting. He, along the film, never really got any awards traction but I have a feeling that Darjeeling will have a following and be remembered mostly for Wilson's searching and aching performance.
