Widescreen Award: Actor

Jesse Eisenberg had a lot of things to factor into his performance as Mark Zuckerberg in The Social Network, the least of which was Mark Zuckerberg. Regardless of how closely hewn the fictional character is from its real-life counterpart, Eisenberg has crafted something for the ages. He's the self-made man who realizes too late (if you can call 26 "too late") all that he's lost. But it cuts deeper than the Jay Gatsby archetype. Eisenberg manages to convey obliviousness and self-awareness in equal measure; something that's characteristic of most twenty-somethings today. We bathe ourselves in ironies and yet very often miss what's signified.

Now in his 80s, Hal Holbrook is turning in some of the best performances of his six-decade-long career. First in 2007's "Into the Wild," last year in That Evening Sun and very likely (if the adaptation takes its cues from the novel's treatment of his character) in this year's "Water for Elephants." As Abner Meecham, Holbrook tackles a lot of weighty issues, from grief to obsolescence to the onset of senility, with grace. He paints a full picture of a man full of rage, regret and remorse. It would be easy to feel one way or the other about Abner, but Holbrook always keeps it in the grey.

Teruyuki Kagawa's performance in Tokyo Sonata feels so unlike a performance, that it's easy to miss how well he communicates the weariness of laid off office drone Ryūhei. So much of his character is wrapped up in body language. How the man carries himself reveals a great deal about his mental state, indeed, far more than the platitudes and lies that leave his lips. He also has an amazing sense of timing. Kurosawa uses physical humor — watch how Ryūhei picks himself up out of the gutter — to lighten what could've been an overwhelmingly melancholy story. Kagawa is more than up for the challenge.

The evolution of Malik from a vulnerable Arab convict to a mob don is at first inexplicable. It's only after the film is over that it dawns on you how far he's come. Tahar Rahim handles that transition — which is integral to A Prophet — beautifully, instilling a quiet intelligence in his character. Malik, and Rahim, know not to let one hand know what the other is doing. At the same time, Rahim lets the audience in enough that the character remains sympathetic amidst his brutality and cunning.

Édgar Ramírez's Carlos the Jackal is a consummate professional. Olivier Assayas' epic take on the terrorist/freedom fighter doesn't definitively answer the question of his loyalties, but one thing is clear from Ramírez's tightly-controlled performance. Carlos' first priority is himself. It's the through line in the performance, from a young, quick-witted charmer to an cruel, old has-been. Ramírez has to balance a lot of changes over the course of the film, but his focus is never lost.

Credit is also due Kim Yoon-seok who brings honesty and humor to his role as a pimp chasing down the serial killer who's been targeting his hookers in The Chaser. Alexander Siddig turns in a sensitive performance as Patricia Clarkson's escort-turned-love interest in Cairo Time. Once again, Song Kang-ho manages to be both charming and creepy as Jeon Do-yeon's unlikely lighthouse through the storm of Secret Sunshine.

Widescreen Awards: Supporting Actor

As prison-bound mob boss Cesar Luciani, Niels Arestrup starts off as an untouchable. He ends A Prophet, in true gangster flick form, as an empty shell of a man, deprived of all his power. Arestrup fills the space in between with a richness that's rarely found in this type of character. He's cold and remorseless, yet capable of trust. He's an unapologetic bigot, yet his protege and only true confidant is a "dirty Arab." It's a complex performance that never once feels forced.



Until the real Dicky Eklund shows up over the end credits, you're apt to think Christian Bale's performance is all bluster and bombast. Fortunately (or unfortunately), the genuine article is just as nutty as the carbon copy. Even so, Bale is the heart and soul of The Fighter. He's the main source of conflict in the film, but he's also the only source of redemption. Beyond the impressive external performance (the gaunt appearance and involuntary tics of a junkie), Bale fills his Eklund with a rich internal life, as well.



Make no mistake: Michael Fassbender's Connor, in Fish Tank, has been and always will be a monster. Fassbender seduces the audience along with his 15-year-old Lolita, and he does so while pretending to be a good, well-meaning guy. Even after his secret life -- behind a picket fence, no less -- is revealed, you can't help but think of him only as a pitiful misguided fool. It's a performance within a performance within a performance, and a stunning one at that.



In Winter's Bone, John Hawkes successfully keeps the audience guessing about Teardrop. Even after he pulls through for Ree, there's a sense that he may not be so admirable a second time. In addition to that tightrope walk, Hawkes' characterization seems so specific to the time and place, you couldn't imagine him existing in any other movie.



Lonzo Choate confuses providing for his family materially with being a good man. He always seems to have the best intentions, but his alcoholism and its root insecurities confront him at every turn. In That Evening Sun, Ray McKinnon manages to make Lonzo sympathetic even as he lashes out over and over again. He brings a lived-in quality to the character, even as he does the heavy lifting of reconciling the man's flaws and aspirations.

Widescreen Awards: Film Editing

Editing is quite possibly the most difficult aspect of film to judge, particularly from the perspective of a viewer. A good editor can pick up the slack from a bad director, who came into a project with a shaky vision. A bad editor can hack a good director's work unscrupulously. And, it would seem, editors are always at the mercy of the material they're given. If the production crew didn't shoot enough material, the editor will have a difficult time creating a rhythm or even choosing the best shots.

But here are the films that are, in my mind, the most smoothly "edited." Whether that's because of or despite the best or worst efforts of their editors, I will never know.

Angelina Jolie does a whole lot of running, jumping, leaping and tumbling in Salt, but the editing team of Stuart Baird and John Gilroy manage to keep the action sequences coherent. You always have a good idea where Jolie's super spy is going and how she's getting there.

The Social Network sustains a meticulously-crafted rhythm across a continent and its two-hour length. I have to imagine Kirk Baxter and Angus Wall had something to do with that, although with the reportedly OCD David Fincher in the director's chair, you can never be sure.

There are no wasted sequences in Enter the Void, which was edited by Marc Boucrot, with director Gaspar Noé doing double duty. Even the lulls in the plot, including one doozy of a trip, contribute to the whole. The editors knows when to look away, when to hold on a shot and how integrate the various special effects into the frame.

Christopher Nolan's new favorite editor Lee Smith (pictured) — they've been working together since 2005's "Batman Begins" — helps the master illusionist keep a lot of balls in the air in Inception. The final "kicks" sequence is as tightly constructed as any film this year.

Juliette Welfling, in her third collaboration with A Prophet director Jacques Audiard, achieves a measured pace across a number of years in the life of an burgeoning mafia kingpin. It's a testament to her skill at pacing and structure that so many great moments stay in your memory long after the 155 minutes are over.