Time for the second rundown of every Oscar nomination for acting since the year 2000. This time, I’m ranking those in the Best Supporting Actress category, and this might be the most interesting group. Not best or worst necessarily, but most interesting.
The diversity is higher here than the other categories, with 27 nods for persons of color (there are 22 in the Best Actor category, 17 in the Supporting Actor, and only 15 for Actress). It’s plagued by the most mediocrity among the nominees, but not as many really bad choices as the other categories. The winners might be the weakest overall, too—only three of my picks for the Top 20 were victorious on Oscar night (unless someone from the latest race pulls off an upset this weekend, and then it would be four). There’s also a lot of repeat business, with numerous two-time nominees and three different actors earning at least three nominations: Cate Blanchett, Octavia Spencer, and Amy Adams with a whopping five.
But enough with the amusing distraction of statistics, let’s get to the list of ladies in support. You can also check out the dudes playing back-up right here. (Updated: rankings for Best Actress are this way and Best Actor is over here.) Same as last time, those who won their respective years have asterisks in their headers, and a breakdown ranking of each year’s five nominees can be found at the bottom.
115. Glenn Close (Hillbilly Elegy, 2020)
I’m not saying the Razzies are always right (they nominated Stanley Kubrick for The Shining, for God’s sake…), but as it was almost forty years prior with fellow joint Razzie/Oscar-nominee Amy Irving in Yentl, Glenn’s performance was much closer to being deserving of the Golden Raspberry nomination than the Oscar nod. Did voters even watch that pile of “hillbilly” crap she was in, or were they just trying to apologize to the actress for dashing her hopes a couple years back when she lost yet again after gaining undue buzz for The Wife? Well, you dashed ’em one more time, Oscar! She had worse odds of winning this year than the “Hillbilly Elegy” author had of becoming a U.S. Senator. Wait, wait, what’s that now??
114. Penélope Cruz (Nine)
Nothing about this nomination makes any sense to me. It’s an unexceptional performance aside from limber physicality and enthusiasm; she’d just won this award the previous year, so it can’t be the Academy thinking she’s “due”; and it comes in a movie that was both a critical and commercial miss. Can I think of any good reason whatsoever for her being a nominee for this movie/role? Nein.
113. Ruby Dee (American Gangster)
Nothing wrong here, but the work better be gosh darn special to warrant a nod for just over five minutes of screentime. So, I’m sorry, Ruby, you’re a fine actress, but I’ll never understand how you snuck into 2007’s otherwise-tight race because of a scene where she slaps her druglord son (played by Denzel Washington). Proof that the Academy rewarded the slap-happy long before Chris Rock made a dumb joke.
112. Meryl Streep (Into the Woods)
It’s probably Meryl’s broadest, hammiest film acting job since She-Devil (or maybe the Mamma Mia movies; I haven’t watched those)…she’s not boring, but she’s also nothing special in a movie far more interested in dense, gloomy visuals than realism or depth from the cast—I mean, they hired James Corden for a pivotal role, for goodness sake.
111. Jessica Chastain (The Help)
Talk about an instant also-ran. Chastain played a Southern belle dingbat, one of the “decent” white characters in a movie that claimed to be about giving voice to long-suffering black domestic workers in the South. Her co-star and fellow nominee, Octavia Spencer, baked a pie with ca-ca; Chastain couldn’t even fry chicken. Although Chastain probably did her best with what she was given, I don’t find anything particularly noteworthy here (especially in hindsight, now that we all know what the actress is capable of), and since she had absolutely no chance of winning based on the circumstances noted above, why not vote for someone else to earn a nomination instead?
110. Julie Walters (Billy Elliot, 2000)
I don’t know how this one snuck in. Billy Elliott made a bigger splash at the Oscars than expected (it even earned a Best Director nomination, and Stephen Daldry is not a good film director), but if someone was going to make the list for their acting, surely it would have been young newcomer Jamie Bell, right? This is standard stuff in a standard heartwarming teacher role.
109. Renée Zellweger (Cold Mountain, 2003)*
It wasn’t as bad as I remembered it being when I rewatched Cold Mountain (her early scenes are full of wretchedly showy hillbilly mannerisms and vocal theatrics, but she settles down later); still, by and large, it’s pure Oscar bait drivel. She’d recently lost a couple of times for nominations she received but didn’t deserve (Chicago, Bridget Jones’ Diary) and been overlooked entirely for nominations she probably did deserve (Nurse Betty, Jerry Maguire), so Zellweger must’ve decided to go all-in on a performance that couldn’t be ignored (for better or worse), and the Academy fell for it ‘cause sometimes they ain’t got the good sense God promised a billy goat, fer sure.
108. Angela Bassett (Black Panther: Wakanda Forever)
With precious few meaty standout roles since her mid-90s heyday (What’s Love Got to Do with It, Strange Days, Waiting to Exhale), Angela Bassett has become accustomed to doing “more with less”. Queen Ramonda in the Black Panther sequel is another nothing role she does what she can with, but it’s not that much…not Oscar-worthy work by any stretch of the imagination, no matter how much said imagination loves the actress or loves the MCU (in fact, her “Oscar scene” where she loses her composure and chews the throne room scenery is her weakest moment in the movie). Her reputed front-runner status this year is pure “overdue” narrative. Bassett deserves an Oscar someday…but, c’mon, not for this.
107. Judi Dench (Chocolat, 2000)
The first of multiple times that Judi Dench was nominated in the last twenty-plus years for playing the “standard Judi Dench role”. She’s fine, gets opportunities to be both impish and tragic, but she clearly benefited from her character’s bittersweet “tearjerker fate” and the aggressive Oscar campaign that also landed Chocolat a ludicrous Best Picture nomination.
106. Patricia Arquette (Boyhood, 2014)*
I’ll always be baffled by this one. Arquette is adequate as the mother of the boy we literally watch grow up across a dozen years, but no better than that. Why did she win so much hardware that awards season? How was she not overshadowed by co-star Ethan Hawke’s more vital and dynamic performance? The mom didn’t change much over those twelve years, and Arquette played it at the same level throughout. Was it just because she got to deliver the evocatively truthful line, “I just thought there would be more”? I just don’t know.
105. Melissa McCarthy (Bridesmaids, 2011)
I’ve seen her be very funny on “Saturday Night Live”, and she’s done some fine dramatic/seriocomic work onscreen (Can You Ever Forgive Me, St. Vincent), but I rarely find Melissa McCarthy’s broad comic antics in movies to be worth laughing at. Bridesmaids is no exception—her character is too much of an oddball without reason, which isn’t usually a problem in a comedy if not for the fact that so few of her co-stars exaggerate their personality traits nearly as much—and on the occasions when she does squeeze out a yuk, it’s almost to the detriment of the rest of the movie. More comedic performances should get Oscar consideration, but this wasn’t one of the better ones to highlight.
104. Kathy Bates (Richard Jewell, 2019)
I remember hearing, again and again, all the pearl-clutching bleating about how it must feel for a parent to see their child get tarred and feathered for criminal accusations. It doesn’t matter who I’m talking about (Brett Kavanaugh, Kyle Rittenhouse, those Duke lacrosse players, and on and on); it happens often enough that it’s just a part of the looping news cycle. But what if the accused actually was innocent? What if they were being railroaded for convenience, or because of perception and stereotypes, or from sloppy reporting and dogged dirty-pool investigating? Bates does a fine job of bringing both specificity and humanity to the role of Bobi Jewell, the fraught mother of wrongfully-accused Atlanta Olympics bomber Richard J., and although the nomination was both unexpected and undeserved, it’s still a decent, sympathetic piece of work that contributed to none of the film’s more glaring flaws.
103. Julianne Moore (The Hours, 2002)
Moore acts her heart out here, but even though she usually falls short of histrionics, it’s a hard performance to judge fairly since the movie’s restless cutaways keep interrupting whatever spell she’s trying to cast, and the script only gives her weepy fragility to work with in most scenes. In the same year she played a much more interesting 1950s housewife (Todd Haynes’ Far from Heaven), and was nominated for that one as well, couldn’t the Academy have left this one off the final ballot in favor of someone a little more deserving?
102. Mo’Nique (Precious, 2009)*
She won over a lot of industry types during her near-sweep of all the major awards that season (Anna Kendrick winning the NBR prize was about all the competition she had), but I’m not among the ardent fans of the performance. I can’t fault Mo’Nique for the grievous flaws in the movie’s script that forged her character out of the fires of poor-and-uneducated-trash hell, but I couldn’t get onboard with how she relentlessly hit the same monstrous pitch for the majority of the film, then turned around in a late scene and wept her crocodile tears in a grotesque show of “what about meee” pity-baiting. I have no idea how we’re supposed to take this scene (more the fault of director Lee Daniels than the actor, I admit). It’s a memorable performance, to be sure, but I don’t think it’s a particularly layered or well-crafted one.
101. Amy Adams (Vice, 2018)
Adams went “method” to play the wife of Dick Cheney, and it’s a fine piece of acting—it’s Amy Adams, and she’s not playing a hillbilly, so what’d you expect?—but the characterization is neither entirely believable (based on what I’ve heard about and seen of Lynne Cheney) nor especially original. Like Joan Allen in Nixon, this wife of a powerful American politician demonstrates a fierce strength and resolve that just doesn’t seem to be there in real life. I could be wrong, of course, but I was simply never wowed by either the impression portion of the performance or the way Lynne was played dramatically—the would-be Lady Macbeth even quotes Shakespeare in one of the script’s weakest passages. A fine job in the wrong way, I guess?
100. Melissa Leo (The Fighter, 2010)*
Surely, this was a typo. If someone was going to be nominated in this category for The Fighter, it would be Amy Adams, right? Oh, they were both nominated? And they still gave the win to Leo, whose barefaced, domineering harridan of a mother practically broke the fourth wall with her pleas for the audience’s (and voter’s) attention? It’s not a bad performance at all, actually, just on the predictable and repetitive side—if you’re going to do conspicuous stuff on screen, you’ve gotta be surprising as well. The way Leo campaigned left a bad taste in the mouth, too, but I did my best not to take that into consideration for this analysis.
99. Aunjanue Ellis (King Richard, 2021)
Maybe I would have liked this performance (and the entire movie) more if I didn’t feel like its big dramatic moments were so blatantly manufactured by the writer and/or director (kitchen scene, I’m looking at you). If the formula contrivances and “prestigious inspirational movie” button-pushing hadn’t gotten in the way, Ellis might have had the chance to be good enough to deserve this nomination. Alas…
98. Laura Dern (Wild, 2014)
Her total screentime probably adds up to about seven or eight minutes, but rare was it for Dern to appear in a scene that lasted more than twenty or thirty seconds. As such—and maybe I’m simply spoiled by Dern’s consistently good work onscreen—I didn’t find anything particularly noteworthy about her effort here. A moment of luminous happiness in the kitchen, a sad lament in the passenger seat of a car, but her nomination (with hardly any precursors during awards season) is a head-scratcher for me, especially since it was a slot that could’ve/should’ve gone to someone like Jessica Chastain for A Most Violent Year or Rene Russo for Nightcrawler, among others.
97. Judi Dench (Belfast, 2021)
It doesn’t feel right to punish someone for being so reliably good, but this performance is just standard operating procedure for Dench, and it annoys me that the veteran actress got the nod over far-lesser-known co-star Caitríona Balfe. Not only was Balfe more deserving, but she didn’t already have 7 Oscar nominations under her belt at that point. Granny was a lovable little scamp in Belfast, and Dench didn’t overdo the sharp-tongued cutesiness or the heartache, but it’s disciplined work more than superlative work, and you always expect a certain minimum with Dench onscreen. She met it, no sweat, but didn’t exceed it to a remotely remarkable degree.
96. Queen Latifah (Chicago, 2002)
The Queen did what was needed for the role of Mama Morton, the “keeper of the keys” of Murderess’ Row, being both intimidating and inviting, corrupt and “mother hen”-ly, and she gets a pretty decent show-stopper in the form of “When You’re Good to Mama”…but it’s not a role a few dozen other actresses couldn’t have done just as well, nor is it one that Latifah couldn’t have done even better herself if the overbearing direction and thin writing weren’t holding her back.
95. Patricia Clarkson (Pieces of April, 2003)
Clarkson spikes Pieces of April’s pseudo-sincere indie punchbowl nicely, but although she’s the number-one reason to see the marginally enjoyable Thanksgiving tale (far more so than the “cutesy” touches involving gay neighbors and avian misadventures), it wasn’t even my preferred supporting performance from the oft-underrated actress during that same calendar year: The Station Agent, anyone?
94. Abigail Breslin (Little Miss Sunshine, 2006)
I admit it’s hard for me to judge this performance for various reasons. For one, with very few exceptions, I find most 10-and-under child performances in comedies to be too precocious to appreciate as “acting” instead of simply “knowing their lines” and/or “mugging to juvenile audience members”. So, yes, Breslin is comfortable in front of the camera as the eager but out-of-her-depth child beauty pageant contestant, her line delivery would be described by some as “adorable”, and she earns a few real laughs, especially during her hilariously inappropriate dance routine, but I still don’t think it was worth an Oscar nomination the same year that Shareeka Epps, Lola Dueñas, and Emma Thompson (among others) were snubbed.
93. Hong Chau (The Whale, 2022)
Personally, I thought Brendan Fraser looked even better than he was in The Whale because the supporting cast was so faulty, even the usually reliable Samantha Morton. Chau was the best of the come-and-go bunch, finding a nice balance between the empathetic and the critical, and avoiding the histrionics popping off all around her (including Fraser). Still, she couldn’t cover up all the redundant and overwritten spots in Darren Aronofsky’s script she had to personally handle, and as far as last year was concerned, I enjoyed the cutting discipline of her smaller and more precise performance in The Menu quite a bit more.
92. Frances McDormand (North Country, 2005)
Fran does what she can with this role as the loyal-but-pragmatic best friend with a crusty, world-weary edge, but by this point in the actress’ accomplished career, it wasn’t surprising, and the deeply-flawed script spoiled any chance for it to become emotionally compelling. Really, how far away is this performance from “McDormand’s character from Something’s Gotta Give gets Lou Gehrig’s disease” or “McDormand’s character from Wonder Boys interrupts a courtroom via letter containing an f-bomb”?
91. Helena Bonham Carter (The King’s Speech, 2010)
I guess because she played such a good supporting wife, voters thought she was such a good supporting actress. Don’t get me wrong—she’s respectable, as Carter always is when she’s not forced into weirdo distortions—but just as The King’s Speech is a nice, little movie undeserving of the enormous praise it received, her portrayal of the loyal Queen Mother is a nice, little piece of acting undeserving of an Oscar nomination in a crowded field.
90. Jennifer Hudson (Dreamgirls, 2006)*
First, she’s the movie’s lead, so Hudson should have been competing in a different category. Second, although she gives a decent dramatic performance as the most put-upon member of the movie’s Supremes-esque female vocal group, she was nominated for (and won) the Oscar exclusively because she has a potent singing voice and “belts it out” like a champ. Some would argue her singing makes up for the more ordinary (and, occasionally, strained) non-singing portions of the performance, but since the material she’s working with is so pat and obligatory, I’d argue she overdoes it because the narrative and character arcs aren’t compelling enough to meet the passion of her pipes.
89. Shoreh Agdalashoo (House of Sand and Fog, 2003)
While her husband (played by Ben Kingsley) clenched his emotions in check, Agdalashoo turned on the faucet. The acting from three of the four main characters (Ron Eldard’s clunky, inexpressive turn being the exception) was about all this misery-porn drama had going for it, and while I don’t think it was a terrible choice for a nomination, co-writer/director Vadim Perelman gave her too many weepy scenes of suffering compared to too few scenes of her in a “good light” as a compassionate and devoted wife/mother to balance things out and give her character dimension.
88. Maggie Gyllenhaal (Crazy Heart, 2009)
Except for a (reasonable) eruption of exasperation after her son goes missing, Gyllenhaal is measured and relaxed as the divorced single mom journalist who falls for alcoholic country singer Bad Blake where most other actresses would try to steal the spotlight a few times from the flashy star. A solid job all around…but her surprise nod (without any major precursors during the awards season) feels more like acknowledgment that a) voters liked the movie enough for their support to bleed into other avenues, and b) competition to get into this category wasn’t especially fierce that year.
87. Kirsten Dunst (The Power of the Dog, 2021)
She had her sweet spot—the portion of the film when focus falls on her deteriorating psychological condition under the thumb of Phil Burbank’s controlled cruelty—but before that and later on, I thought it was a mostly conventional “wounded performance” of a woman who needs to be saved, better than adequate but below exceptional. Sometimes all you need is one really juicy scene or monologue to grab the attention of the voters; Dunst had less than that to work with, but she found a way to shine for several minutes anyway.
86. Taraji P. Henson (The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, 2008)
If Sally Field didn’t get an Oscar nomination back in the mid-90s, I’m not sure how Henson climbed into the race for playing the devoted mama to the decades-spanning “drifter” Benjamin Gump, er, Button. There are touches of warmth, empathy, grace and wit in her portrayal, sure, but the character suffers from too many stock “mammy” details to really stand out (not her fault, of course, but Henson only occasionally rises above them). Fine work, but exemplary enough for an Oscar nod?
85. Octavia Spencer (The Shape of Water, 2017)
The third time in six years Octavia was nominated for playing a working-class black woman in the 1960s, but she finds little ways to make each of them stand apart. In this story of outcasts, however, she may be playing the one who’s above-the-line denigrated the least (it’s subtle enough to be considered an accepted texture of this society), and doesn’t generate the same levels of empathy as Richard Jenkins’ gay sweetheart or Doug Jones’ abused test subject, so Octavia’s consistently solid work and general likability probably carried her onto this year’s nominee list more than sheer merit.
84. Catherine Zeta-Jones (Chicago, 2002)*
It’s a flashy portrayal, to be sure, but it’s all on the surface—her Louise Brooks-esque physical appearance, costuming and makeup did most of the heavy lifting. Velma Kelly is a caricature, and since the material is pitched so relentlessly on style and broad satire, all there is to truly admire from Zeta-Jones is energy and dedication. Not at all a bad performance, but too eager, restless, and one-note.
83. Laura Linney (Kinsey, 2004)
Playing the wife of a famous person onscreen is often a thankless role, but Linney finds her moments to shine, and not just her dramatic scene reacting to her husband’s open-book confession (tactless…but honorable?). She’s warm and loyal—but hardly a wallflower or pushover—and her credible transitions from open-minded student to anxious young bride to sexually-liberated companion to confidante/adviser are surprisingly graceful for a movie that’s comprised of a lengthy series of mini-episodes more than a flowing narrative.
82. Jennifer Connelly (A Beautiful Mind, 2001)*
There’s more here than I initially thought, a low-key radiance offset by a clichéd over-affected moment or two that probably did more for voters than the nuance of frustrated patience, but it still feels like Connelly benefited from a) the popularity of her movie with Academy members too sheepish and traditional to embrace a three-hour fantasy adventure (The Fellowship of the Ring), and b) lack of widespread support for any of her fellow nominees.
81. Bérénice Bejo (The Artist, 2011)
She’s colorful and vivacious and charming, but even within the artificiality of The Artist‘s bygone Hollywood fantasy, she does a little too much acting toward the camera instead of acting toward her co-stars. How you feel about her work here probably depends on how much you value a performance based on how it supports the movie as the filmmakers intend and how much it means for the performer to find the character’s/story’s truth regardless of what the script may offer. I look for both, so I’m torn.
80. Marcia Gay Harden (Pollock, 2000)*
In a case of co-stars in the same film canceling each other out in the voting (Almost Famous‘ Frances McDormand and Kate Hudson), Harden snuck in for the surprise win—she wasn’t even nominated at the SAG’s or Golden Globes—as Jackson Pollock’s long-suffering wife. Why did she put up with the suffering? That’s as much the flawed screenplay’s fault as Harden’s, and her performance sometimes coasts on the heavy New Yawk accent (I’d label it as overpronounced, but I haven’t a clue what the real-life Lee Krasner sounded like, so it could be a spot-on imitation for all I know), but the emotional outbursts feel as authentic as they’re warranted.
79. Julia Roberts (August: Osage County, 2013)
It’s certainly one of Julia’s better arguments that she can show range as an actor, and the best effort of hers the Academy ever recognized with a nomination…but she didn’t deserve any of them. I’d argue her strongest performance can be found in Mike Nichols’ scathing Closer, where she achieved a degree of bitter bitchiness that was similarly appropriate for her role here as a woman wresting control of her ultra-dysfunctional family away from Meryl Streep’s drug-addled harridan of a matriarch. But Roberts holds back, perhaps afraid to compete with Streep’s histrionics, perhaps afraid to muddy her “movie-star darling” image too much, and she’s not helped by a close-but-no-cigar mess of a movie surrounding her.
78. Sally Field (Lincoln, 2012)
Field was smart to portray Mary Todd Lincoln’s historical madness as little tics and flourishes that seem to be gaining ground through her tremendous sadness. Otherwise, she hits the usual notes—concerned mother, doting wife, determined loyalist—in a satisfactory yet familiar fashion. Solid work, but nothing truly special, which is also how I’d describe her earlier Oscar wins for Norma Rae and Places in the Heart.
77. Alicia Vikander (The Danish Girl, 2015)*
Because the “tastefully” sterile atmosphere is bland enough to infect the gender-switching main character (already written and performed in a low-key yet banal fashion by Eddie Redmayne), The Danish Girl becomes Vikander’s to save from being too dull for alert, eager minds. She nearly pulls it off with a good-but-not-great performance, and I suspect this was one of those cases of the Academy rewarding a young, promising ingenue-type in a Supporting Actress category that so often favors their kind (a tradition that extends to the likes of Angelina Jolie, Goldie Hawn, Teresa Wright, and several more). That, or they were giving it to her for both this performance and the better one from a film genre (science fiction) that’s almost never permitted to get acting nominations: Ex Machina.
76. Catherine Keener (Capote, 2005)
Sure, it’s basically a thankless role up against the famously “peculiar” Truman Capote (especially since Philip Seymour Hoffman knocks it out of the park), but Keener, who normally plays cutting, self-sufficient types who are in control of whatever room she enters, is really good here at absorbing. She’s the victim of frequent condescension as a female writer in the shadow of her famous (and even more gifted) friend, but she never plays a victim, and her inner strength and quiet loyalty are cautious nuances with which Keener surprises us.
75. Sally Hawkins (Blue Jasmine, 2013)
She stood in the deep shadow of Cate Blanchett’s Blanche Dubois-esque force of nature, but the fact that Hawkins swiped an Oscar nod without substantial support for the film in non-acting and writing categories from other awards groups tells you this wasn’t an instance of a “favoritism sweep” pulling her into the competition. She injects her timid, trusting sister character with fresh spontaneity amid beleaguered weariness, and until the finale, is just as “tragic” as Cate’s Park Avenue pariah.
74. Florence Pugh (Little Women, 2019)
There’s nothing wrong with this performance (indeed, she’s better than most of her co-stars at straddling the line between the period expectations and personal décor of the character and director Greta Gerwig’s advanced, semi-feminist approach), but this nomination feels like the Academy saying, “We’re not allowed to recognize her exceptional work as lead actress in a freaky folk-horror movie, so we’ll toss her a bone in a ‘safer’ genre.”
73. Stephanie Hsu (Everything Everywhere All at Once, 2022)
It was the riskiest performance in the main cast, an audacious effort in an audacious movie, and also the weakest (of a really strong group, so still pretty good). She embodies pure chaos, and that’s only “half” of performance; forced to pull off sardonic and cathartic, furious and empathetic, depressed and egomaniacal, she’s both the secret hero and the in-your-face supervillain. As Jobu Tupaki, she’s upstaged by makeup and wardrobe, and as Joy, she shrinks, but the flip sides of the same ticked-off coin were almost designed to be faulty in those ways, and even though not everything she tries works, it’s a lot of fun riding that rollercoaster.
72. Margot Robbie (Bombshell, 2019)
Robbie claimed she channeled a little of Elle Woods (the protagonist of Legally Blonde) into her portrayal of Kayla Pospisil, but whatever pep she had in her step was poisoned by Roger Ailes’ insidious flex of power and control. The way Jay Roach sets up and shoots Robbie’s most critical scene (not the telephone call, believe it or not) could have been as manipulative as it is repulsive, with Ailes commanding his attractive employee to “twirl” for him, hike up her skirt a little more, etc. But Robbie’s pained face spoke agonizing volumes through the collective voices of millions of other women silenced by fear, confusion, discomfort, NDA’s and worse. Since her character is essentially a composite of numerous women willing to speak out on the abuses they suffered at the hands (and leering eyes) of Ailes, this was an essential message to put across, and Robbie delivered.
71. Nicole Kidman (Lion, 2016)
A role that obviously meant a lot to Kidman (she dedicated her performance to her kids), and it is, indeed, a wrenching, affecting portrayal…in a movie that can hardly support it. Lion didn’t really work for me despite a few strong performances from the cast, yet sometimes really good acting can come out of not-so-great projects, and the nominations are understandable, even if they’re not outright deserved—this is one such case.
70. Jacki Weaver (Silver Linings Playbook, 2012)
Of the four actors Oscar-nominated for this movie, Weaver has the fewest opportunities to leave a mark (I mean, her husband is played by Robert De Niro, so she’s at a disadvantage regardless of the writing or direction). But that’s what I like about the performance—she gets her moments here and there and shines, like a grounded inversion of her sociopathic mother hen from Animal Kingdom, but mostly she supports the scenes and the central storyline. If only there was a clue in the name of the award if this is what she should have done…
69. Kate Winslet (Steve Jobs, 2015)
The storytelling device of Steve Jobs ultimately didn’t work for me, leaving too much unsaid and manufacturing too many hard-to-swallow dramatic encounters, but the actors did good work pretty much across the board to rescue it from failure status. The best of them was Winslet, who did more with expressions, tone of voice, posture, etc. than simply bring Aaron Sorkin’s verbose dialogue to life. Illogical from a distance, I may never have fully understood her long-suffering loyalty, but I sensed it, felt it.
68. Maria Bakalova (Borat Subsequent Moviefilm, 2020)
To steal scenes from Sacha Baron Cohen when he’s in character is a difficult feat, but Bakalova did it several times during the messy but intermittently hilarious Borat sequel. She also suffered for her art by being in the same room as Rudy Giuliani—no doubt, an uncomfortable experience even before his hands started going down his pants—so she deserved something to show we appreciated the lengths she went to. An Oscar nomination for the sort of role that often goes overlooked (exaggerated comic caricature)? Okay, daddy!
67. Rachel McAdams (Spotlight, 2015)
It’s hard to stand out in an ensemble cast, and it’s even harder to be taken seriously as a dramatic actress when you’re best known for solid supporting work in comedies (Mean Girls, Wedding Crashers, et al) and lead performances in “disposable” entertainments (Red Eye, Morning Glory, et al). But McAdams did stand out in Spotlight‘s terrific cast—and with a far less demonstratively passionate role than fellow nominee Mark Ruffalo—so it’s a wonder why her output has slowed down since and she doesn’t seem to be trying for more challenging roles in feature films.
66. Marina de Tavira (Roma, 2018)
The story of Cleo the maid and Yalitza Aparicio’s performance in the lead role are so engrossing, I’m surprised de Tavira snuck into this race. Not that she’s undeserving, but because 1) she had no awards precursors, 2) she’s not a name actress, 3) she’s playing a supporting role that, because of her station, isn’t as sympathetic, and 4) it’s especially dramatic, in a grabby, “look at me act, voters” kind of way. But she gets to play vivid shadows and emotions—despair as her life/family falls apart when her husband leaves, a self-destructive drunk scene, a poignant confessional to her children, and a complex relationship with the protagonist where words and actions don’t always mesh. I needed to watch Roma a second time for the film to click with me; ditto this performance.
65. Amanda Seyfried (Mank, 2020)
Rarely have I seen front-runner status fade so fast. It was considered Seyfried’s award to lose toward the end of 2020, then the various critic groups and guilds started handing out their hardware, and Seyfried’s stock plummeted to the point where she wasn’t even a guaranteed nominee. I thought she was quite good…but not so good as to stand apart from a few other strong contributors in the film’s ensemble, let alone the other female supporting performers across the entire year. Consolation prize: Seyfried proved she has better dramatic acting chops than Marion Davies, the starlet she was playing.
64. Amy Adams (Doubt, 2008)
As the least “blemished” participant among the major roles in the acting playground that is Doubt, Adams had the most thankless job. But it’s still a tricky one to play since she has to effectively play “outwardly pleasant and supportive” but “inwardly guarded and uncertain”. It’s an impressive balancing act for an actress who managed to land six Oscar nominations in thirteen years, but is still undervalued by most (proof: Arrival wasn’t among the six). Now, someone please save her from the rut of her most recent career choices.
63. Holly Hunter (Thirteen, 2003)
Of the film’s three central characters, the mother is the hardest to play effectively since so much is about willful ignorance until the truth becomes an albatross, about underreaction until the helplessness and anxiety boil over. Hunter’s distracted mother-of-a-problem-child is clueless for a while, a recovering alcoholic who has her own issues to deal with before needing to worry about a negative influence turning her honors-student daughter into a potential statistic (for teen pregnancy or drug overdose or…). Then she realizes giving her child the space to work out the growing pains on her own just isn’t going to cut it any longer.
62. Octavia Spencer (Hidden Figures, 2016)
I suppose it was inevitable that at least one of the central female trio of Hidden Figures was going to get nominated; old-fashioned inspirational “true” story appeal snuck the movie into the Best Picture race, after all, so there was clearly widespread support for the movie among the Academy members. But, I dunno, maybe because the performance has so much of the same good-hearted yet smart-mouthed attitude and patience Spencer was already nominated for in The Help and would later get recognized for in The Shape of Water, I would’ve preferred Janelle Monáe and her overall-slightly-superior work to have received the nod instead.
61. Sophie Okonedo (Hotel Rwanda, 2004)
Her “middle of the pack” position is due less to a “middle of the road” performance than the characterization caught on camera. She gets a few moments to shine and emote and demonstrate fierce devotion, but the script and editing reduce her to the same repeated notes one expects from an unfolding genocide—intense horror for the dead and dying around you, for your own life, and most of all, for those you love that you may be unable to protect. I can vividly recall her expressions of anguish, but my recollections of her character afterward are otherwise limited to “mother and wife of Don Cheadle’s hotel manager”.
60. Marcia Gay Harden (Mystic River, 2003)
It’s strange how the Academy favored Harden’s suspicious and terrified performance over Laura Linney’s more ruthless edge from the same movie; the voters tend to favor drive in the supporting categories over weakness. But they made the right call—Harden probably gave the most nuanced and deeply-felt performance among her fellow nominees in one of the weaker fields of this century.
59. Kate Winslet (Iris, 2001)
It’s hard to reconcile the two “halves” of Iris Murdoch as presented in this film, since Kate plays her as an energetic, sensual free spirit and co-star Judi Dench plays her (many years later) as an Alzheimer’s sufferer. Omitting such a large chunk of the woman’s life was a deliberate choice, but (in my opinion) a poor one. Since Kate’s “half” feels incomplete and Judi’s has the tragic pull, Winslet was bound to be an also-ran collecting her third of seven nods from the Academy.
58. Kathy Bates (About Schmidt, 2002)
As I recall, chatter centered on her brazen hot tub scene, as if shock value and “bravery” was all there was to discuss (it’s one of those rare nude scenes from a major actress unlikely to get much attention on Mr. Skin-style websites). But there was a lot more to it than that. She’s humorous in almost all of her scenes, actually, and she does one of the things that good supporting players do—show up, complement the lead (in this case, by creating genial friction with someone operating on a perpendicular wavelength), leave a firm impression upon the audience, and then get out of the way. This movie wasn’t always just about Schmidt; consider him supported.
57. Octavia Spencer (The Help, 2011)*
Although the acting was easily the best thing about the otherwise wrong-headed and risible The Help, and this served as the breakthrough film role for the talented Spencer, the writing lets the character down so hard, the actress is unable to fully rescue it with her nuanced pathos, bitter bite, weary sadness, and fine sense of comic timing. I don’t dislike this win as much as I probably should—she’s the reason why the phrase, “Oscar-winning film The Help“, isn’t a lie, after all—but even against her flimsy competition that year, it wasn’t quite the right choice.
56. Adriana Barraza (Babel, 2006)
She goes from the most infuriating “host” character of Babel’s multi-narrative mosaic to the most deserving of our empathy. It was recklessly irresponsible of her to take those kids south of the border to her son’s wedding, but when imagining how uncomfortable it would be for those little tykes to be surrounded by strangers and an alien culture for a long and confusing evening, try to imagine how Barraza’s maid feels year after year working as an illegal so far from her family, always at risk of arrest and/or deportation. So, yes, I wanted to holler at her to stop as she “packed up” her employers’ children for a long car ride into the unknown, but I also felt terrible for her as she staggered around the desert at night, desperate and hopeless, with no possible positive outcome in sight.
55. Helen Hunt (The Sessions, 2012)
She’s inviting yet tactful as the sex surrogate who grows close to her disabled client. Usually, the actor playing the handicap gets the Oscar nod while the co-star goes overlooked, but since Hunt is so willing to be matter-of-factly frank and, at an “advanced age” by Hollywood standards, disrobe with hardly a hint of eroticism, she was the one described by uncreative professionals as “courageous”.
54. Olivia Colman (The Father, 2020)
The Father is a good film with a significant flaw in its central conceit, but there was surely no faulting the top-notch acting. Colman might have easily gone overlooked in the company of Anthony Hopkins’ attention-grabbing theatrics, even with the understanding that it’s a knotty part to play—she has to be genuine and false because the audience is seeing her through the disoriented “eyes” of Alzheimer’s—but she snagged a nod for this pic from 2020, a year many of us wish could be removed from our own memories.
53. Marisa Tomei (In the Bedroom, 2001)
All the major roles in this searing drama required top-of-his/her-game acting to prevent the material from either turning black with rot or becoming too hard to believe. Character behavior is rarely predictable here, and if we didn’t believe the performances, we wouldn’t believe the characters, and it would all fall apart. Tomei had the unenviable task of pivoting after the crucial tragic incident from tantalizing to traumatized, and she got it just right.
52. Jennifer Lawrence (American Hustle, 2012)
Lawrence’s broad portrayal of the “Picasso of passive-aggressive karate” suggests a manipulative wild card. Is she crafty or simply unhinged? Does she truly love husband Irving or is it all just a game to her that she needs to win? I don’t know, but I do know it’s a really good comic performance from an actor who hopefully didn’t peak too early.
51. Janet McTeer (Albert Nobbs, 2011)
Unlike her co-star, Glenn Close (playing Albert), McTeer’s fellow Dublin-woman-living-as-a-man gets to develop enough shades of optimism and solemnity and puckish personality buried beneath her intentionally drab, unfussy exterior to escape the ruse-as-identity handicap. The “discovery” scene is an altogether too-favorable coincidence, but McTeer plays it right. The ending of the movie doesn’t work, but McTeer plays it right. In fact, she plays it right all the way through a movie that rarely follows her example. She’s also more believable passing as a man, but maybe that’s because Glenn is so immediately recognizable even in mannish makeup and dress.
50. Jamie Lee Curtis (Everything Everywhere All at Once, 2022)*
We didn’t see much of Jamie Lee on the big screen this century, and when she did pop up, it was usually in tripe (Christmas with the Cranks, You Again, that talking chihuahua movie). Then she mounted something of a Hollywood comeback a few years ago with her return as Laurie Strode in the Halloween refreshers and a zesty supporting turn in Knives Out. With EEAaO, the actress had arguably her best showcase since A Fish Called Wanda (which should have earned her the first Oscar nomination of her career more than thirty years before the real one), and who couldn’t love that unflattering outfit, the way she shed all signs of vanity and let it all hang out, the persnickety attitude, her epic tax office battle with the legendary Michelle Yeoh, the hot dog fingers, all of it (not necessarily all at once)?
49. Maggie Smith (Gosford Park, 2001)
Maggie is so at-home in these kinds of upper-class English period roles, a) it’s hard to accept her in more contemporary parts (anyone remember her playing the Mother Superior in Sister Act?), and b) I tend to take her for granted in this “comfort zone”. I prefer her here as the Dowager Countess than in the late-70s role that won her one of the two statuettes she’s been given (playing an—ironically enough—Oscar-nominated actress in California Suite), but it might be because I prefer this film to that one. Either way, Smith is wonderful here, but I’m sure you knew that already, even if you’ve never actually watched Gosford Park.
48. Marisa Tomei (The Wrestler, 2008)
Remember when so many people were up in arms about Tomei winning for her lightweight role in My Cousin Vinny over her very serious (and very British) competition? Her work in movies like In the Bedroom and Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead shut most of them up over how “deserving” she was of a statuette. Here, she’s the support that “The Ram” needs to get through his agonies in the ring and with his estranged daughter, and her gutsy willingness to sink down to the wrestler’s level is refreshing for not being the sort of beauty-slumming-with-beasts tactic oft-described as “Oscar bait”.
47. Amy Ryan (Gone Baby Gone, 2007)
She did a wicked good job playing the selfish but crudely-charismatic (and enormously unfit) single mom of a kidnapped child, neither softening nor demonizing the character into paths of redemption or caricature. In a movie with heavy-hitters like Ed Harris, Morgan Freeman and Casey Affleck, Ryan and her seedy Boston-type “complexities” steal the show.
46. Anne Hathaway (Les Misérables, 2012)*
I’ve never seen the Les Mis musical on stage, and I wasn’t a fervent fan of the film version, so it’s hard for me to decide where blame for its mediocrity belongs more—the source material, or the choices made by Rob Marshall and company in adapting it. Here’s a contradiction: the abridged version of Victor Hugo’s novel is one of the best books I’ve ever read, while the unabridged version borders on being unreadable, yet my problem with the depiction here of the tragic prostitute and single mother, Fantine, is that there’s too little developed of the character; she comes and goes so quickly, the impression that’s left comes almost exclusively from the actor beneath the grubby clothes and smeared makeup. On that count, Hathaway pours her heart (and tears) into the performance, musically and dramatically, so kudos to her for doing what she was supposed to do and more.
45. Mary J. Blige (Mudbound, 2017)
As the long-suffering but dignified wife and mother in a family of Mississippi Delta sharecroppers, you wouldn’t expect such simmering and precise work to emerge from a swollen, racially-charged melodrama, especially from someone who’s far better known as a recording artist than an actor, but Mary J. obliged (sorry).
44. Laura Dern (Marriage Story, 2019)*
Dern has been so consistently good for so long (and, being the daughter of Bruce Dern and Diane Ladd, a new-generational Hollywood fixture), it would be easy to write off this victory as a “career Oscar”—she was even serving on the actors branch, so voters could think of it as rewarding one of their own. Dern co-starred in Marriage Story with two young stars giving it their all with potent performances of their own that also earned nominations, so it’s not like she was stealing the show from lightweights or nobodies. Watch the movie again—not just the showstopping monologue of hers that kept my mind alternating between motionlessly nodding and silently refuting, but the whole thing—pay close attention when she’s onscreen, and you’ll know such excuses/dismissals are at least mostly b.s.
43. Helen Mirren (Gosford Park, 2001)
She doesn’t have much screentime in this ensemble piece, but she makes the most of her moments, vulnerable without being fragile, dedicated without being dull. Her big scene, of course, comes near the end, and describing it would be a spoiler, but however momentarily, Robert Altman’s unfussy but omnipresent technique, the fancy dress and decoration, the other performers, all of it melts away and the movie belongs to Mirren. Then she recedes and it’s back to business as usual, just as her character is duty-bound to prefer.
42. Jennifer Jason Leigh (The Hateful Eight, 2015)
There was controversy when the film came out over whether or not there was too much rough violence aimed at Leigh’s prisoner—not because she was chained to Kurt Russell’s rough-customer bounty hunter and, therefore, more or less helpless (lest she want even more punishment), but because she was a she. Quentin Tarantino never shies away from violent content, and he doesn’t spare women from the brutality, especially when they’re nasty little monsters like the notorious Daisy Domergue. Leigh didn’t hold back in her brash, sneering, cackling, blood-spitting portrayal, just like Quentin doesn’t hold back on that camera closeup of her twisting and purpling at the end of a hangman’s noose. Like Charles Manson’s murderous hippie-chick followers, Calvin Candie’s sister, and Elle “California Mountain Snake” Driver, the bitch had to go.
41. Scarlett Johannson (Jojo Rabbit, 2019)
Usually when an actor is nominated twice in the same year, it feels sorta pointless—they’re bound to win in one category, so why not free up space for another person in the other category? Think: Holly Hunter nominated for The Firm the same year she (deservedly) won for The Piano, or Al Pacino nominated for Glengarry Glen Ross the same year he (absurdly) won for Scent of a Woman. But ScarJo in Jojo (sorry) is no less impressive than her work in Marriage Story (she lost both, besides), and despite featuring in a comedy where she projects warmth and maternal love with a not-always-convincing accent, she also has to hide horror over what’s happening in her homeland, and conceal her secret purpose from everyone around her, including her son. Her exit from the picture was as devastating as any argument or admission from Marriage Story, and she left so much behind for the viewer with far less screentime than you may remember.
40. Keira Knightley (The Imitation Game, 2014)
Jennifer Connelly won the Supporting Actress Oscar for playing the wife of a troubled math genius, so did Keira ride the same wave to a nomination as, erm, the wife of a troubled math genius? I couldn’t say, but I will say this one was a much more interesting character as played and presented, and as such, Knightley was more deserving of the praise. She’s well-matched with Benedict Cumberbatch’s Alan Turing, since they’re both brilliant at what they do (and face derision in their fields, she for her gender and he for his stubbornness and perceived arrogance). She attacks puzzles and roadblocks in a more pragmatic way, but she also understands people, emotions, and social cues in ways he never will. It’s a “love story” of convenience and companionship, and Knightley more than meets Cumberbatch’s challenge.
39. Adriana DeBose (West Side Story, 2021)*
She’s playing the role that won Rita Moreno an Oscar back in the early-60s, and not only was she better in the role than Moreno, but the movie itself was a significant upgrade, too. So, yeah, even though I slightly prefer Jessie Buckley’s work in The Lost Daughter, I was fine with fiery, luminous DeBose winning this thing. I was entirely unfamiliar with the actress before this (she’d done far more live theater than motion pictures), but now I know she’s one for me to keep an eye on and anticipate her future film projects, which, according to the internet, should be a lot in the next few years.
38. Cate Blanchett (Notes on a Scandal, 2006)
It’s practically an unplayable role—a schoolteacher who has an affair with a fifteen-year-old student. Obviously inspired by the Mary Kay LeTourneau scandal, Blanchett has to convince us of her attraction to an underage boy, a willingness to pursue a sexual relationship, and a fixation that brings her back to the kid even after she knows someone else knows about it. And in the end, she also has to convince us (however fleetingly) that she’s almost a victim in the ordeal after being sold out by a bitter “friend”. You had me fooled for a moment, Cate…damn fine job, you unsavory genius.
37. Jessie Buckley (The Lost Daughter, 2021)
How you feel about this performance may depend on your personal life and beliefs. I don’t have children, and am unlikely to ever have them; I’m also the sort of person who values his freedom and privacy to a great deal, which I know would crumble to dust should I ever become a parent or guardian (unless I was a deadbeat, which I couldn’t imagine ever being). So, I empathized with the younger, more “selfish” mother played so well by Buckley even more than the older, more regretful version of the same character played equally well by Olivia Colman. I put that word in quotation marks because I don’t think it’s selfish in principal to do what she did; choosing to have children removes that option from the table, however, so “selfish” it becomes. Imagine—a choice! What an absurd concept for a mother-to-be to have.
36. Rinko Kikuchi (Babel, 2006)
It’s the kind of role that often makes Oscar voters take notice. To be quite cynical about it: “A ‘handicapped’ woman who communicates without speaking? The bravery!” But even though she was the focus of the most disconnected storyline in Babel, Kikuchi wound up being the most compelling presence, in part because both her character and plot were the most surprising. Limited in her expressions, Kikuchi uses physical mannerisms and facial gestures with such subtle introversion, I was forced to pay closer attention and see beyond the confusion and vulnerability that came with the territory.
35. Regina King (If Beale Street Could Talk, 2018)*
It felt to me like Regina King and Colman Domingo were playing their characters as “grown up and grounded” versions of the ethereal young lovers shattered by (probable) false accusations and imprisonment. Which means that when King goes on her emotional and physical journey within mirrors and foreign lands, she’s giving love—Merlin’s “greatest force on Earth”—a dose of gritty erosion and soulful reality. The lengths she’d go to, but with the sort of pragmatism idealistic young fools so often lack.
34. Virginia Madsen (Sideways, 2004)
She has that great monologue where she describes her fondness for wine in parallel terms for her fondness for the miserable “hero”, but there’s hardly a blemish to her performance throughout (overly-idealized as the character might be). It’s always a pleasure to see a good longtime actor who so often gets stuck in minor roles or disposable B-movies get a chance to shine, and like her co-stars, she glows immaculately.
33. Penélope Cruz (Vicky Cristina Barcelona, 2008)*
She makes her first entrance around the halfway point like a hurricane, further complicating an already-complicated pas de trois among brazen Spanish lothario Javier Bardem and American tourists Scarlett Johannson and Rebecca Hall. It’s one of those quintessential supporting roles that stimulates the senses when they’re onscreen, but you’re glad they’re not the focus, since too much would be hard to take. Because Cruz is/was unlikely to ever win Academy Award for one of her celebrated Spanish-language performances (often working with Pedro Almodóvar), it’s probably a good thing she won for a movie made by an American filmmaker the Academy was more likely to embrace: ahem…Woody Allen.
32. Michelle Williams (Brokeback Mountain, 2005)
Before 2005, most people—myself included—knew Williams best for a teen drama I never watched (“Dawson’s Creek”) and a series of roles playing pretty and/or dumb types in the likes of Dick and The Station Agent. But she (and her “Disney princess” co-star, Anne Hathaway) surprised me in this tricky adult romance/drama playing a cowboy’s wife who is the “other woman”. The way she plays her discovery of husband Ennis’ true passion is buried in the cracking veneer of someone raised to be subservient to the man of the house. Later, when she lets on what she knows, she almost breaks apart by a force of courage and bitterness she wasn’t even sure she possessed. It’s almost a shame the tragedy of her character gets lost in the film’s final act.
31. Vera Farmiga (Up in the Air, 2009)
Farmiga gets a lot of sides to play here—aloof, sexy, tired, charmed, enigmatic, warm, hurtful—and she makes them all look very nearly effortless. Sure, George Clooney usually makes for an easy screen partner, but she keeps pace with aplomb. I admit I didn’t see a late revelation about her character coming, and she played it in a way that surprised me, too (in a good way).
30. Viola Davis (Fences, 2016)*
Not all theatrical works translate well to the screen, especially when the decision is made to not bother opening up the action or paring down the material to cinematic editing/transition rhythms. I’m unfamiliar with this work other than the film adaptation, so I don’t know how well it works on stage (considering its Pulitzer-winning status, quite well, I’d assume), but this performance encapsulates a conundrum—should I consider it less-than because the long-winded scene construction inflicts unnaturally “writerly” behavior and repeated points/emotions on what the actor is doing? In my opinion, a more ruthless typewriter and editor could have made this a great performance I’d remember for a long time. I imagine a lot of voters did the “cutting” in their heads when they cast their vote, forgiving all the messy borders and overscripted laments.
29. June Squibb (Nebraska, 2013)
Irascible Kate Grant, the wife of Bruce Dern’s deluded “lottery winner”, isn’t a role with a lot of depth or modulation. It requires the right actress playing it as a credible caricature who finds the flecks of warmth and pathos on her own. Only a “dumb cluck” would say that casting and interpretation weren’t spot-on with June Squibb as the Grant matriarch.
28. Kate Hudson (Almost Famous, 2001)
Like her movie star mother, Hudson burned too bright at the beginning of her film career—they were both nominated for Oscars in the roles that made them stars (for Goldie Hawn, it was Cactus Flower in 1969, and she even went on to win). As rock n’ roll groupie (er, “band-aid“) Penny Lane, Hudson achieves an idealized, almost ethereal delicacy that makes her feel like a memory or a dream, but with real grit and sadness behind her stoned-out bliss. She’s had a nice turn here and there (including the recent Knives Out sequel),but Hudson’s never come close to this level of performance since. Still, she sparkled bright like a rock n’ roll one-hit wonder here.
27. Rachel Weisz (The Constant Gardener, 2005)*
A crafty, complete performance seen through flashbacks where luminous Weisz plays up her activist character’s passion for the cause, but doesn’t show her cards as fervently when it comes to passion for the man who loved her (and obsesses after losing her). It’s not hard to understand why he does so, but it’s a credit to Weisz and Jeffrey Caine’s script adaptation that there’s a little enigma to this woman that can never be explained.
26. Saoirse Ronan (Atonement, 2007)
It’s odd that Saoirse’s character essentially does the worst thing in the movie—the choice that requires the atoning promised by the title—but hers is the character I liked most (and, no knock on Romola Garai, it just wasn’t the same once the story shifted ahead five years). Maybe because I didn’t really care about the class divide-shattering love affair between Keira Knightley and James McAvoy? Ronan has, of course, grown into an accomplished actor, but her breakthrough here demonstrated a remarkable grasp of how precociousness is scarred by certain degrees of self-involved narcissism and arrogance. Again…why, why, why did I like her character the most?
25. Jacki Weaver (Animal Kingdom, 2010)
Ben Mendelsohn is shown as being the most psychopathic member of the Cody crime family for so long, you don’t see the emergence of Weaver’s pint-sized mama bear’s fierce, ruthless side coming. She generally stayed out of the way of her boys’ lawless antics, sweetly doting on all of her adult bank-robbing sons, but when one of hers is threatened, out come the claws, and it’s remarkable how Weaver’s conscience-less “Smurf” is totally believable playing both facets and transitioning between them. That she’d be turning on a grandchild to protect her son makes it all the more impressively chilling.
24. Naomie Harris (Moonlight, 2016)
As the unfit junkie mother of Moonlight‘s soulful and lonely protagonist, Harris could have easily fallen back on the overwrought crack-addled clichés—the twitchiness, the patheticness, the stupors, etc.—but instead she seeks out the anger, the pity, the humanity in a character that’s never gonna get right. She shot all of her scenes in just three days, and has a lone outburst that briefly forgoes that restraint and Naomie gets lost, but every other appearance is so beautifully handled, all is forgiven.
23. Tilda Swinton (Michael Clayton, 2007)*
You may not remember how good Michael Clayton is. It sorta got lost in the shuffle the same year No Country for Old Men and There Will Be Blood were racking up all the plaudits and attention (and, to a certain degree, deservedly so). But go re-watch it and don’t be surprised if you think it’s stealthily near-great, largely on the strength of its acting, which is demonstrative enough to get attention but never ostentatious to the point of distraction. Swinton slipped in for the win here, and her mastery of superficially level-headed control while constantly panicking on the inside is superb.
22. Emma Stone (Birdman, 2014)
Stone has joked about how fortunate her career in Hollywood has been (landing a key supporting role in the hit comedy Superbad not long after first risking all and moving out there), but at least some small part of her good luck has been a byproduct of smart career decisions. Aloha controversy notwithstanding, she rarely picks lame projects—even that piece of crap The Help was a hit movie that increased her visibility—and Birdman was the one that proved she wasn’t just a naturally talented actress, but a highly versatile and compelling one as well (and landed her the first of three Oscar nods to date). Playing the daughter of Keaton’s uncertain, psychologically-frayed ex-movie star, it’s a complicated role with seemingly contradictory facets—supportive “conscience” and disgruntled screw-up among them—which Stone makes credible. Good pick, Emma.
21. Youn Yuh-jung (Minari, 2020)*
Oscar loves this kind of performance—a scrappy, eccentric old guy/gal who gets to be cantankerous but lovable, and play it out for both comic relief and pathos. Minari is a subdued, measured film depicting the unassailable passage of time, and the accumulation of hardship taking the whole thing to the brink of unbearable tragedy, but Youn kicked the movie in the seat of the pants from time to time to steal our attention (and our hearts), and she made the film a much richer and more dynamic experience.
20. Cate Blanchett (The Aviator, 2004)*
Few outstanding performances have ever gotten off to as rocky of a start as this one. She first shows up in a frisky golf match played primarily for laughs, and it looks like Blanchett (and director Martin Scorsese) are going to be delivering an exaggerated-yet-entertaining caricature of Katharine Hepburn, replete with the recognizable mannerisms, tomboy-ish bravado, and trademark Transatlantic accent. After that one scene, however, the actress (and actress the actress is playing) magnificently disappear into the fabric of the story and the strange-but-powerful connection Kate shared with enigmatic Howard Hughes.
19. Kerry Condon (The Banshees of Inisherin, 2022)
The fractured relationship between Pádraic and Colm is the subject of the best movie (I’ve seen) from 2022, but the push-pull bond between Pádraic and Siobhán is the heart and soul. We never got to see the feuding lads in their better days, but we’re privy to the Súilleabháin siblings at their best and worst, the deep devotion and the surface squabbling (and Jenny makes three). Her flummoxed voice of reason isn’t a spoilsport, and as much as Colm feels held back by his former friend’s ceaseless prattle, Siobhán feels stifled by the droning-dull limitations of that bloody island. So strapping and so frail, Condon takes Siobhán through the process with such mournful clarity, I wish I could have followed her at the end. Spinoff?
18. Amy Adams (The Fighter, 2010)
While her female co-star—and frequent onscreen “sparring partner”—Melissa Leo worked the (predictable) angles as a bold and brassy mother hen, Adams created a more unique and remarkable character as boxer Mickey Ward’s girlfriend. Bossy but faithful, damaged but self-assured, thickly-accented but unaffected, and capable of sharp jolts both defensive and antagonistic when you don’t necessarily see them coming, her work was askew yet authentic, and she fit right in with the flock of little-known (and, in some cases, amateur) actresses playing Mickey’s loudmouthed sisters.
17. Natalie Portman (Closer, 2004)
Closer was an imperfect film, to be sure, but it featured potent acting from the four principals (and virtually only characters in the entire story) playing singles who engage in lying, cheating, mind games, and the sort of “assaults” that are far more psychologically traumatic than physically damaging. Portman has the unenviable role of portraying the only halfway-decent human being among them, but while others are relishing the opportunity to get nasty and trade off on venomous lacerations and duplicitous schemes, they also have to work hard to hide their pain and misery; Portman is the one who gets to play heartbreak and the devastation of a life crumbling away (without histrionics, to boot), and the promise of those strong early performances in Léon and Beautiful Girls pays off after George Lucas’ tin-ear dialogue made us forget how good of an actress she can be.
16. Hailee Stanfield (True Grit, 2010)
Among the five nominees from 2010, Stanfield barely overtakes Amy Adams as the best choice, but she shouldn’t have been here in the first place—how can an actress who’s in nearly every scene be relegated to the supporting category? Jeff Bridges had the unenviable task of trying to outdo John Wayne in one of the Duke’s most iconic roles, and Bridges won out by several lengths. Stanfield, on the other hand, is cunning, disarming, strident, dryly funny, confident-but-untested, a precocious firecracker you’d never backhand by describing as “cute”—a champion greyhound compared to Kim Darby’s chew toy.
15. Lesley Manville (Phantom Thread, 2017)
Where could someone like Reynolds Woodcock have come from? Older sister Cyril partially explains it. Manville’s severe spinster serves as mother figure, secretary, caretaker, bookkeeper, therapist, and more to Reynolds, and with her bone-dry delivery and withering glare, we see her as master and servant rolled into one. It’s peremptory control she exhibits, and being capable of stealing focus in scenes with Daniel Day-Lewis only stops seeming like a miracle when you realize how vast the actress’ underlying commitment is.
14. Anna Kendrick (Up in the Air, 2009)
Kendrick is so specific in her buttoned-up, by-the-book demeanor, it doesn’t feel like a manufactured contrivance when she starts subtly altering as the movie progresses. She shows a bratty side, she tries her best to cover up a vulnerable side, and she can slide effortlessly between unapproachable and magnetic. She even steals scenes from that old pro with panache to spare, George Clooney. Writer/director Jason Reitman reportedly penned the part with Anna in mind, and it shows.
13. Viola Davis (Doubt, 2008)
She basically has just one long scene to leave her mark, and she does, cautiously underplaying the complex opinions of the anything-but-clichéd mother of a potentially-abused boy while holding her own with none other than Meryl Streep. By the time Doubt was released, Davis had been kicking around the movies for several years without much traction, but this one caused the industry to stand up and take notice.
12. Alison Janney (I, Tonya, 2017)*
It surprised me to learn than Janney is only onscreen for roughly fifteen minutes in this movie. Her domineering presence dominates, I suppose; we feel her brittle, vindictive influence on almost everything Tonya Harding does, whether in lock-step or revolt. It’s a terrific (and hysterically unequivocal) performance from one of the more consistent character actors of the last few decades, and although she’s not quite my winner among that year’s nominees, it’s practically a coin flip among three very deserving parties.
11. Amy Adams (The Master, 2012)
Like the other main characters in The Master, it’s hard to get a bead on Amy Adams’ Peggy Dodd, the devoted wife of Philip Seymour Hoffman’s perplexing yet charismatic cult leader. She, ahem, masterfully projects the frustrations of post-war wives whose expectations and roles were in flux, she demonstrates cunning behind-the-scenes control whether stridently or awkwardly (the handjob scene, anyone?), and among company, she’s a sweet supporter whose genteel façade camouflages steely ambitions and suspicions, especially toward Joaquin Phoenix’s unmoored, unstable soldier. She finds her power behind the “face” of power, and Adams plays it almost perfectly.
10. Michelle Willliams (Manchester by the Sea, 2016)
Much as I have (and will continue) to question whether or not supporting performances with only a few minutes of screentime are worthy of nominations with such a small “sample size”, Williams earned (and completely deserved) this nod for just one particular scene; if you’ve seen the movie, you know which one. She was really good in her handful of appearances elsewhere in the movie, don’t get me wrong, but her character, Randi, in the park with ex-husband Lee, trying to come to terms with all of their shared anguish and to make amends and give their relationship a second chance is absolutely gutting. One of those moments: so hard to watch, but I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
9. Lupita Nyong’o (12 Years a Slave, 2013)*
For me, one of the chief flaws of this grueling slavery drama is how the climactic scene struck me. Solomon Northrup is finally freed and he shares a brief moment with Lupita’s Patsey before leaving her forever, and rather than fully share his exultation and relief, my emotions were interrupted by empathy for Patsey. Director Steve McQueen doesn’t play it out as a bitter slap of ice-water, so while I should have “left” with Solomon toward the denouement, I instead stayed behind with Patsey and spiraled into the realization that even if she did survive to the end of the Civil War, she was going to be subjected to plenty more abuse and suffering for a decade-plus first. That was the power of Lupita’s performance, exemplified in small, subtle moments and big, painful ones, and her expressive face became the face of one of America’s deepest shames anytime she was onscreen.
8. Rachel Weisz (The Favourite, 2018)
Weisz has the toughest role of the three central characters in The Favourite; she’s the one being usurped/replaced, her blistering wit is diminished by the purity of her feelings, her wiles are (temporarily) bested by dirty pool, and she’s absent most of the final act. But that just means she has to give the craftiest, most cunning performance, in spite of possessing candidness that immediately puts her at a disadvantage in the battle of wills to come. Couldn’t the Academy have just stuck all three women in the same category and declared a three-way tie?
7. Emma Stone (The Favourite, 2018)
Stone’s studied ambition and pinched frustration as an upstart angling for an intimate advisory position with the queen were so deliciously entertaining, I could forgive her and the film for the bunny cruelty scene near the end—not the character, of course, but the decision to stick it in there and for Stone to play it the way she does. Considering she was the bigger “name” actress and clearly had the most prominent role, I’ll never understand why Emma was put into the supporting race while Olivia Colman ended up winning as a lead. Must’ve been demoted for that behavior around the queen’s pets!
6. Amy Adams (Junebug, 2005)
Her early scenes make her very pregnant character look like a caricature of a flaky, down-home dimwit, but Adams’ cheery optimism masks insecurities and deep-rooted discontent—she hopes the baby will save her marriage to her withdrawn, dismissive husband, and she’s so afraid of becoming overweight and undesirable, she’s seen sadly putting back a snack cake in favor of a carrot. Then she’ll break your heart lying in a hospital bed, and the then-little-known actress emerges as one to watch (…become one of the most impressive film actors of her generation).
5. Meryl Streep (Adaptation, 2002)
At least Meryl was nominated for the right role this year; she also appeared in The Hours, an even bigger “Oscar darling”, which saw both of her co-stars land nominations. She did solid work in that one, but she’s sublime here, a tricky role that requires her to find the “truth” at several different layers of varying reliability. So good, she made me believe she could develop romantic interest in Chris Cooper’s bizarre, temperamental and untrustworthy orchid thief. Even more clever is the way she doesn’t try to make anyone believe she’d resort to murder, but that’s the brilliant coordination among director Spike Jonze, screenwriter Charlie Kaufman, and Streep in getting the character just right when the movie hysterically spins askew into self-aware Hollywood meta-cliché.
4. Laurie Metcalf (Lady Bird, 2017)
There were too many common coming-of-age tropes for my taste in this awards darling, but as predictable as the titular lead’s general arc was, the relationship she shared with mom Metcalf was anything but. It reminded me a bit of what the relationship between Debra Winger and Shirley MacLaine wanted to be in Terms of Endearment—abrasive but loving and complicated as hell—so they benefited from Greta Gerwig’s superior scripting. Best known for her role on television’s “Roseanne”, Metcalf had appeared in about thirty (mostly small) film roles before this, never finding that breakthrough, that one part that would really show off her gifts. This was that part, and she was fantastic.
3. Frances McDormand (Almost Famous, 2000)
Leave it to someone like McDormand to find the “tender nougat” and authentic grace notes for a character so often employed as juxtaposition and comic relief. Cameron Crowe’s script helped, to be sure, but few other actresses can remain so grounded while swinging between caricature and complexity when playing the concerned but well-meaning mother of the littlest rock critic in the land. Her conversations over the phone with her son and the guitar god he adores stand out as highlights even in a movie that sometimes plays out as just highlights.
2. Cate Blanchett (I’m Not There, 2007)
Okay, how could this not be just a show-off stunt? A woman playing “Bob Dylan”? Who does Cate think she is? Androgynous fellow-nominee Tilda Swinton? It sure helped that she played the most iconic side of Dylan’s persona/career, but Blanchett appears onscreen as quickly as she vanishes (into character), and the avant garde gimmickry of Todd Haynes’ sui generis “biopic” becomes a storytelling device, not a casting one. The stare, the slouch, the vocal spillage, it all amazingly captures a perspective and attitude that neither defines nor psychoanalyzes the pop culture fixation, but revitalizes the man’s elusive, confrontational genius. Whenever I’m Not There switched back to black & white, I perked up knowing Cate’s post-Newport, D. A. Pennebaker documentary-esque “Jude Quinn” was returning to the screen.
1. Rooney Mara (Carol, 2015)
In another case of a lead actress getting slotted in the supporting race, Mara’s crisp portrait of the hesitant, introverted young salesgirl who’s gradually seduced by a lonely Cate Blanchett is a thing of understated beauty. We sense her as much shying from the light as we see her in bloom, and because of the social mores of the era, the tragedy of her tentative embrace is softened only by her recovery from that heartbreak, and in the closing moments, a hint (or mirage?) of victory. She never steps wrong, not even during a scene aboard a train when tears start to flow—no grandstanding, it’s all in the moment, and it’s as devastating as it is pure.
RANKED PERFORMANCES BY YEAR
| 2000 | 2001 | 2002 |
| 1. Frances McDormand (Almost Famous) | 1. Helen Mirren (Gosford Park) | 1. Meryl Streep (Adaptation) |
| 2. Kate Hudson (Almost Famous) | 2. Maggie Smith (Gosford Park) | 2. Kathy Bates (About Schmidt) |
| 3. Marcia Gay Harden (Pollock) | 3. Marisa Tomei (In the Bedroom) | 3. Catherine Zeta-Jones (Chicago) |
| 4. Judi Dench (Chocolat) | 4. Kate Winslet (Iris) | 4. Queen Latifah (Chicago) |
| 5. Julie Walters (Billy Elliot) | 5. Jennifer Connelly (A Beautiful Mind) | 5. Julianne Moore (The Hours) |
| 2003 | 2004 | 2005 |
| 1. Marcia Gay Harden (Mystic River) | 1. Natalie Portman (Closer) | 1. Amy Adams (Junebug) |
| 2. Holly Hunter (Thirteen) | 2. Cate Blanchett (The Aviator) | 2. Rachel Weisz (The Constant Gardener) |
| 3. Shoreh Agdalashoo (House of Sand and Fog) | 3. Virginia Madsen (Sideways) | 3. Michelle Williams (Brokeback Mountain) |
| 4. Patricia Clarkson (Pieces of April) | 4. Sophie Okonedo (Hotel Rwanda) | 4. Catherine Keener (Capote) |
| 5. Renée Zellweger (Cold Mountain) | 5. Laura Linney (Kinsey) | 5. Frances McDormand (North Country) |
| 2006 | 2007 | 2008 |
| 1. Rinko Kikuchi (Babel) | 1. Cate Blanchett (I’m Not There) | 1. Viola Davis (Doubt) |
| 2. Cate Blanchett (Notes on a Scandal) | 2. Tilda Swinton (Michael Clayton) | 2. Penélope Cruz (Vicky Cristina Barcelona) |
| 3. Adriana Barraza (Babel) | 3. Saoirse Ronan (Atonement) | 3. Marisa Tomei (The Wrestler) |
| 4. Jennifer Hudson (Dreamgirls) | 4. Amy Ryan (Gone Baby Gone) | 4. Amy Adams (Doubt) |
| 5. Abigail Breslin (Little Miss Sunshine) | 5. Ruby Dee (American Gangster) | 5. Taraji P. Henson (The Curious Case of Benjamin Button) |
| 2009 | 2010 | 2011 |
| 1. Anna Kendrick (Up in the Air) | 1. Hailee Stanfield (True Grit) | 1. Janet McTeer (Albert Nobbs) |
| 2. Vera Farmiga (Up in the Air) | 2. Amy Adams (The Fighter) | 2. Octavia Spencer (The Help) |
| 3. Maggie Gyllenhaal (Crazy Heart) | 3. Jacki Weaver (Animal Kingdom) | 3. Bérénice Bejo (The Artist) |
| 4. Mo’Nique (Precious) | 4. Helena Bonham Carter (The King’s Speech) | 4. Melissa McCarthy (Bridesmaids) |
| 5. Penélope Cruz (Nine) | 5. Melissa Leo (The Fighter) | 5. Jessica Chastain (The Help) |
| 2012 | 2013 | 2014 |
| 1. Amy Adams (The Master) | 1. Lupita Nyong’o (12 Years a Slave) | 1. Emma Stone (Birdman) |
| 2. Anne Hathaway (Les Misérables) | 2. June Squibb (Nebraska) | 2. Keira Knightley (The Imitation Game) |
| 3. Helen Hunt (The Sessions) | 3. Jennifer Lawrence (American Hustle) | 3. Laura Dern (Wild) |
| 4. Jacki Weaver (Silver Linings Playbook) | 4. Sally Hawkins (Blue Jasmine) | 4. Patricia Arquette (Boyhood) |
| 5. Sally Field (Lincoln) | 5. Julia Roberts (August: Osage County) | 5. Meryl Streep (Into the Woods) |
| 2015 | 2016 | 2017 |
| 1. Rooney Mara (Carol) | 1. Michelle Willliams (Manchester by the Sea) | 1. Laurie Metcalf (Lady Bird) |
| 2. Jennifer Jason Leigh (The Hateful Eight) | 2. Viola Davis (Fences) | 2. Alison Janney (I, Tonya) |
| 3. Rachel McAdams (Spotlight) | 3. Naomie Harris (Moonlight) | 3. Lesley Manville (Phantom Thread) |
| 4. Kate Winslet (Steve Jobs) | 4. Octavia Spencer (Hidden Figures) | 4. Mary J. Blige (Mudbound) |
| 5. Alicia Vikander (The Danish Girl) | 5. Nicole Kidman (Lion) | 5. Octavia Spencer (The Shape of Water) |
| 2018 | 2019 | 2020 |
| 1. Emma Stone (The Favourite) | 1. Scarlett Johannson (Jojo Rabbit) | 1. Youn Yuh-jung (Minari) |
| 2. Rachel Weisz (The Favourite) | 2. Laura Dern (Marriage Story) | 2. Olivia Colman (The Father) |
| 3. Regina King (If Beale Street Could Talk) | 3. Margot Robbie (Bombshell) | 3. Amanda Seyfried (Mank) |
| 4. Marina de Tavira (Roma) | 4. Florence Pugh (Little Women) | 4. Maria Bakalova (Borat Subsequent Moviefilm) |
| 5. Amy Adams (Vice) | 5. Kathy Bates (Richard Jewell) | 5. Glenn Close (Hillbilly Elegy) |
| 2021 | 2022 | |
| 1. Jessie Buckley (The Lost Daughter) | 1. Kerry Condon (The Banshees of Inisherin) | |
| 2. Adriana DeBose (West Side Story) | 2. Jamie Lee Curtis (Everything Everywhere All at Once) | |
| 3. Kirsten Dunst (The Power of the Dog) | 3. Stephanie Hsu (Everything Everywhere All at Once) | |
| 4. Judi Dench (Belfast) | 4. Hong Chau (The Whale) | |
| 5. Aunjanue Ellis (King Richard) | 5. Angela Bassett (Black Panther: Wakanda Forever) |
Check back tomorrow for the next ranked list of acting Oscar nominees!
Cinecaps Digest 
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