There are a few things actors can do to guarantee awards recognition. Losing yourself in the skin of a historical figure is a good bet. Feasting on the scenery as if it's an all-you-can-eat buffet is another. Playing physically or mentally impaired, making yourself grossly unattractive (especially if you're drop-dead gorgeous to begin with), delivering a long, close-up-heavy speech that practically screams "Oscar clip!"—all are catnip to awards voters.
Although we love to see actors test their limits and undergo shocking transformations, why don't we see more appreciation for actors who make their jobs look easy? Subtle, natural performances—the ones in which you can't see the wheels turning, the actors "acting"—are some of cinema's biggest miracles. Why are they so consistently ignored?
One of this year's best performances, for example, is considered a long shot for awards consideration: Steve Carell in the low-key romantic comedy Dan in Real Life. The actor is always outrageously funny as The Office's overzealous manager, Michael Scott; but Carell's quiet, nuanced role in Dan allows him to reveal a whole new side of his talent. As a single father who falls suddenly and desperately in love with his brother's girlfriend (Juliette Binoche), Carell has to keep a tight lid on his ever-changing emotions. The brilliance of his performance is that we still feel every single one of them. As Dan swerves from jealousy to sadness to joy, Carell ably conveys his deep-seated sense of longing via subtle flickers in mood; he's riveting, but he never overwhelms the film's delicate tone. The actor turns a scene wherein he has to angrily eat pancakes into a comedic symphony, but he does it without hamming it up or resorting to over-the-top quirks. Meanwhile, his more dramatic flourishes, like Dan's heartbreaking expression as he hugs his youngest daughter or the hushed quaver in his voice as he sings the last verse of "Let My Love Open the Door," can reduce audiences to tears in the best, most organic way. It's a warm, witty performance, and the film simply wouldn't work if Carell didn't hit each note so sublimely.
In the hit buddy-comedy Superbad, Michael Cera is similarly pitch perfect. The film features plenty of uproarious, balls-out performances, but Cera has the trickiest role: As nice guy Evan, he has to keep things grounded in reality, playing off the more outrageous personalities around him. Somehow he accomplishes this and then some, coming off as the funniest, most lovable character in the movie. As demonstrated on the beloved sitcom Arrested Development, Cera has a naturalness that's impossible to fake. In Superbad, when he's forced to sing an off-key rendition of "These Eyes" to a roomful of cokeheads, he lurches back and forth to an imaginary beat, running the words together, eyes darting around the room like a caged animal. The scene is hilarious because Cera commits to his performance in a way that's authentic rather than shticky. Though the character is awkward in nearly every aspect of his life, Cera ensures that he never feels manufactured. Whether Evan's making up an extremely busy, extremely fake social calendar to impress a girl he likes or pretending to gaze off into the distance when he's actually fixated on a pair of breasts, Cera always makes him completely believable. Sadly, the actor's chances for awards recognition are worse than Carell's. It's the kind of performance that isn't usually recognized, in the kind of movie voters won't consider: They generally don't take to profane comedies like Superbad.
Cera is also charming in Juno, a film that features yet another perfectly understated performance: Jennifer Garner's. She is known for the appealing, girl-next-door quality she showcased in 13 Going on 30, as well as the proficiency in ass-kicking she demonstrated on the cult-hit TV series Alias. Juno, which focuses on a pregnant teenage girl (Ellen Page), gives Garner something a bit different to work with. She plays Vanessa, one half of a seemingly happy couple who sign on to adopt the title character's unborn baby. The character is initially presented as an uptight, extreme Type-A sort, but Garner quickly lets you know that there's much more lurking under her sleek hair and demure cardigans. When Juno off-handedly tells Vanessa and her husband (Jason Bateman) that the baby is theirs, Garner's subtle shifts in expression let you know just how important this moment is: She makes the character's longing for a child palpable. And though the film has a number of emotional moments, one of the most wrenching is also one of the most quiet, and it's all because of Garner. When Vanessa touches Juno's pregnant stomach, her eyes tearing up, the character's mix of fear, exhilaration, and reverence breaks our hearts. Unlike Dan in Real Life and Superbad, Juno has a decent amount of awards buzz, though most of it centers on Page and the film. A nomination for Garner may be a long shot, but perhaps voters who love the film will also recognize her searing performance.
Into the Wild also seems to have a shot at awards, particularly for actors Emile Hirsch and Hal Holbrook. We hope voters will also recognize another pair of turns in the film. Experienced thesp Catherine Keener and neophyte actor Brian Dierker play Jan and Rainey, a pair of hippie-esque wanderers who become parental figures to young vagabond Chris McCandless (Hirsch). Keener and Dierker have just a few scenes in Into the Wild, but their presence resonates throughout the film's expansive running time. As an aging flower child, Keener is warm and maternal but gently hints at the sense of loss running through her character. She makes Jan's connection with Chris deeply felt. She also has excellent chemistry with Dierker, who is wonderfully funny and easygoing. His Rainey feels lived-in—slightly battle-scarred but ultimately content with his lot in life. Neither actor overplays the emotion of their scenes, yet it's easy to see why McCandless would feel safe with them.
Like Into the Wild, the sweet indie musical Once finds meaning in beautifully realized moments—but it does so on a much smaller scale. The film follows a pair of drifting souls, the Guy and the Girl, who have something of a love affair through music. The film's leads, Glen Hansard and Markéta Irglová, are more musicians than actors: Hansard, the lead singer of Irish rock band the Frames, had a role in 1991's The Commitments, while Once marks Irglová's movie debut. The duo also collaborated on the film's music, and there's something wonderfully natural about the way they interact: You almost feel as if you're watching them simply be. Hansard brings the gentle yearning of his Dublin street busker to life, while Irglová tenderly plumbs the depths of her charming, precocious songwriter from the Czech Republic. When they collaborate on one of their first songs, their voices joining together, it's a soaring moment of pure movie magic. The music from Once has a very good shot at awards recognition, but kudos for the performances seem unlikely. That's a shame. Hansard and Irglová win us over in a refreshingly unshowy way. Like all of these actors, they're naturals.