The Golden Trousers Actors of '08

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Once again, like with my recognition of the actresses yesterday, I'm throwing some fine performances out the airlock because everybody's already talked them to death and while I do love them, I wanna keep things hopping and fresh like babies bottoms. Here are the poor fellows left behind:

Heath Ledger, The Dark Knight

Josh Brolin, Milk

Mickey Rourke, The Wrestler

Michael Shannon, Revolutionary Road

Colin Farrell, In Bruges

Again, bear in mind, I love those five performances above and think these guys are worthy of any and all recognition they might get from the respectable awards bodies this year (my especiallys go to Heath of course and to Colin Farrell who reignited my adoration of him with that performance). But for me, for here, let's recognize some less-saluted work.

The Golden Trousers Actors of '08

Phillip Seymour Hoffman - Synecdoche, New York / Doubt - If you know the unnatural, hysterical, totally ridiculous aversion to Phillip Seymour Hoffman that I developed in the wake of his "theft" of Heath Ledger's deserved Oscar for Brokeback Mountain (I know it's not PSH's fault, but I thought his performance in Capote was terribly overrated), than you'll get why my re-embracing him feels like a big deal to me. And the big lug deserves it. He straddles what could've been an impossible character in Synecdoche with humor and warmth and an infuriating off-putting nature that could only have been concocted by PSH. And all the ladies in Doubt are reaping the props but I found his performance there terrific as well. Welcome back into the MNPP fold, Phillip!

Ralph Fiennes, In Bruges / The Reader - This is the year I finally got fed up with Ralph going continually udnerappreaciated. He is always, always great, and nobody gives the man love. Until they do, I... I am gonna sulk, I swear it. His quiet performance in The Reader is the imperative anchor that the story needs to work and he manages it with sad grace, and his fiery fuck-laced turn in In Bruges is the funniest male performance of the year. If the latest Harry Potter installment had come out on time, we'd have had another terrifying turn aof his s The Dark Lord out here too reminding us that this man can do fucking anything.

Michael Cera, Nick & Norah's Infinite Playlist - Like Ralph, I simply believe everything that comes out of Michael Cera's mouth. Unlike Ralph, it never terrifies me, but rather makes me feel wonderful and happy like I want to go dance like a moron and run through the streets all night long. I want to watch Michael Cera for hours, just sitting there, smirking and being awesome.

Gary Oldman, The Dark Knight - Heath and Aaron Eckhart got the showier parts (and both wowed to varying degrees), but Gary Oldman's turn as the human-sized policeman standing up in the middle of the chaos was a remarkable acheivement without the benefit of any make-up or wild theatrics. He was just a guy struggling to do the right thing in a world of wrongs and showing us how noble that could be.

David Kross, The Reader - I'm sort of surprised that Kross hasn't gotten any Oscar talk, but I suppose like Leo DiCaprio he's been stampeded in the wake of It's Finally Kate Winslet's Year (bless her). Plus he's new, and there are all these Big Names vying for their shifty-mimicry prizes (I'm talking to you, Sean Penn) edging him out of the way. But Kross gives a lovely performance in the film, aging from boy to man before our eyes with all the weight put upon his eyes that that transformation always entails.

Diego Luna, Milk / Mister Lonely - Nobody gots no love for Mr. Luna in Milk but me. That's okay. I have enough. An unjustly maligned hate-him-because-he's-insufferable performance that reminds me of what I went through telling everyone that Christina Ricci was doing fantastic work in Monster. I survived that debacle, I'll weather this. As for Mister Lonely, what a weird fucking performance! In a weird fucking movie. Luna's Michael Jackson impersonator with a heart of confused gold has etched itself into my brain and I'm not totally comfortable with that but I am kinda fascinated all the same.

Tim Roth, Funny Games U.S. - Like with Naomi Watts' work in this same film, it's great work that I do feel gets overshadowed by the actors in the original (Roth had to live up to the great Ulrich Mühe) but deserves recognition all the same.

Richard Jenkins, The Visitor / Burn After Reading - I don't follow the Oscar forecasting closely enough to be sure whether Jenkins is still in the running for his terrific performance in The Visitor or not (even though I wasn't totally sold on the film itself - isn't the "white man learns rhtyhm and How To Live from darker skinned people" story a little played out at this point? - he is very very good in it), but this award is more for his work in Burn After Reading so I don't feel guilty including him while excluding the other Oscar-possibles. And yes, Brad Pitt was also wonderful in BAT, but then he went and did The Movie That Shall Remain Nameless and my current enthusiasm for him dwindled a bit. Anyway, nobody does sad-sack better than Jenkins, and I love me a good sad-sack.

Peter Macdissi, Towelhead - I liked this movie more than I thought I would, and I liked Macdissi's off-putting creep of a father the most. His every single line reading was gold.

David Harbour, Revolutionary Road - This movie hit me pretty hard - harder than the general consensus seems to be for most, it seems - and Harbour's deeply wounded performance stands up there in my estimation with anybody else in the film (yes, even Kate). I think it's because it came to me unexpected - I didn't expect his character to be so vital to the story being told, and for his reaction to the goings-on of the plot to have such weight. But they did, and Harbour knocked me out. (Bonus points for the moment I realized he played Jack Twist's Ennis rebound.)

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