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: Supporting Actress

Although her performance skirts a little too close to the precipice that is the cliched monster mom, Melissa Leo strikes the right balance for The Fighter. It helps that you can see where Christian Bale's Dicky Eklund gets his dysfunction from. And, by the end of the movie, you're left convinced of Alice Ward's (often misplaced) love for her sons. She'd do anything for them, true, but it's seldom the right thing.



Perhaps best known as Clive Owen's Appletini-loving mark in "Duplicity," Carrie Preston turns in a quiet but captivating performance in That Evening Sun. Pushed aside in her alcoholic husband's escalating dispute with an elderly man, Ludie Choate's pain and uncertainty shines through in momentary glances. But there's still enough chemistry between her and the drunken lout Lonzo to understand why she stays.



In just two scenes, Charlotte Rampling paints a nuanced picture of an aging barfly. The smell of thick perfume seems to waft off screen in Life During Wartime, in addition to the foul odor of desperation and self-pity. She's aggressive in the pursuit of her conquests, but at Jacqueline's core is a deeply insecure woman. "I'm a monster," she says, with no expectation to hear differently. It's as brutally honest and heartbreakingly funny as any film last year got.



It's true that Hailee Steinfeld's Mattie Ross is closer to a lead than a supporting player in True Grit, but as Scott Rudin, the film's producer, pointed out, she doesn't exactly have an arc. Nor does she need one. Steinfeld nails this single-minded character, never seeming too precocious even while sparring with impetuous adults. It's a testament to Steinfeld that, even once we meet the woman (played by Elizabeth Marvel) she becomes, she's instantly recognizable. Aside from a lost limb, she hasn't changed a bit.



When we finally catch a glimpse of the facade that is Jacki Weaver's crime family matriarch Smurf Cody in Animal Kingdom, it's a revelatory moment. She's easily one of the best villains of the year, with her maternal hugs and broad smiles. At the same time she's scheming against her grandson, she's doing her damndest to protect her own troubled brood against the corrupt police. Can you blame her? (Well, yes, but still...)