Calendar’s Big Oscars Issue : Who’d Know Better About the Cream of 1993’s Acting Crop?

T alent has never been the sole criterion in the Oscar race. Awards have been granted to sentimental favorites such as John Wayne for 1969’s “True Grit” as well as to industry stalwarts whose body of work warranted an award--even if their nominated performances might not. (Think Elizabeth Taylor in “Butterfield 8” or Paul Newman in “The Color of Money.”)

In anticipation of Monday’s Oscar ceremony, however, The Times asked three prominent acting coaches--Howard Fine, Janet Alhanti and Larry Moss--to size up the best actor and actress and best supporting actor and actress categories solely on the basis of the performances . Here are their responses:

Best Actress

ANGELA BASSETT (“What’s Love Got to Do With It”)

Fine: It’s very difficult to play someone alive and known--especially someone as raw and passionate as Tina Turner. Bassett made Turner her own not through imitation but by finding those parts of the character inside herself. The major mistake the filmmakers made was showing Turner herself at the end, which reminded us of the differences.

Moss: Bassett was a great choice for the role. She has an aliveness as a person, a larger-than-life quality, which rivals the passion of Tina Turner. From the outset, she creates the feeling that her character is pulsating, ready for picking like a big, ripe tomato. She combined great tenderness and vulnerability with a (expletive) quality.

STOCKARD CHANNING (“Six Degrees of Separation”)

Fine: The easy choice would have been to “label” the role, to create a superficial one-dimensional East Side socialite. Channing instead gave us a restless spirit, a woman searching for passion and trapped by comfort.

Alhanti: Whenever anyone asks me where the intelligent, witty, sophisticated, vulnerable actresses of the ‘30s and ‘40s are, I point to Channing. She’s about the only actress working now that has all of those qualities--and this part tapped all of it. Instead of playing the character like a cliche--a brittle, dislikable society woman--she gave us someone fighting for her life. This is the best role yet for her on the big screen.

HOLLY HUNTER (“The Piano”)

Fine: One of the first things some actors do is underline the number of lines they have in a script. The more words, they believe, the better the role. In this case, however, Hunter had to communicate without dialogue. Through her eyes and body, she had to make us feel her soul. Hunter has an “animal” essence--you never know what she’ll do next.

Alhanti: Hunter’s performance was stark, grim, very pilgrim and gothic, and never really made me care about the character. I didn’t worry about her, because she was so strong and willful. She was childlike with her daughter, removed from her husband, even wary of her lover. When she finally gave in to him I breathed a sigh of relief--it was like letting air in the room. I also never felt her passion for the piano, which was her history, her voice, her womanhood. When she touched those keys, we should have been taken to another place. I wasn’t.

Moss: Hunter is not a great beauty, but her fierce commitment to what she does makes her very charismatic. This was a brave performance, completely self-absorbed. She wasn’t afraid of the narcissism of the character, which was a survival technique in a situation beyond her control. I felt Hunter’s excitement playing the role. Like Shirley MacLaine in “Terms of Endearment,” she knew she was made for it.

EMMA THOMPSON (“The Remains of the Day”)

Fine: Thompson combines the best of the British vocal school and American emotional gutsiness. Because she’s as strong as (Anthony) Hopkins, so evenly matched, it’s a pleasure to watch the two on screen. Thompson’s strength is playing high-moral-fiber characters with complexity.

Alhanti: It took a real piece of acting to play a part this restrictive, since Thompson is such a free spirit. She does performance art. She breathed life into the movie for me and put her own stamp--that forthright, chin-up approach to the world--on the part.

DEBRA WINGER (“Shadowlands”)

Alhanti: Winger, herself, is down to earth and unguarded, so there was good marriage between actor and character. My only criticism is that she should have played it more polished instead of with a brashness and an offensiveness that turned people off. Not everyone from the Bronx talks that way.

Moss: Winger faced the considerable challenge of juxtaposing the “bull in a china shop” syndrome--not caring what people think--with someone insecure in her value as a poet and a woman. She brought it off beautifully without a trace of sentiment . . . which helped. People don’t know what to make of Winger, but she knows what she’s about.

Best Actor

DANIEL DAY-LEWIS (“In the Name of the Father”)

Fine: Played by an inexperienced actor, this character could have been just one thing: an angry guy. But Day-Lewis draws from a caldron of emotions and is so fluid you never know what he’ll do from moment to moment.

Alhanti: If a character is a canvas, some actors stay in the corner, some go over the top and fall off, while others, such as Day-Lewis, paint the entire canvas. Still, I’ve never seen him cut loose like this. He had to go from a naive, petty thief to a decked-out hippie to a terrified victim to a passionate resistance fighter so, in effect, was playing four different roles.

Moss: Day-Lewis wasn’t afraid to be cruel in those scenes in prison with his father. He, like Robert De Niro and Christopher Walken, isn’t one of those actors who need to be loved. If you don’t like his edge, he suggests, it’s your problem, not his.

LAURENCE FISHBURNE (“What’s Love Got to Do With It”)

Fine: The easy trap would have been to play Ike Turner like a villain and to distance himself from Ike’s essence. Most actors don’t want to acknowledge that part of themselves. But Fishburne shows us the motor for the behavior. He creates a man unable to cope with success--his or Tina’s.

Alhanti: This is a breakthrough vehicle for Fishburne, the most that has been demanded from him as a leading man. Little by little, he keeps exposing more: the violence, the cunning, the need to control.

Moss: This movie came out early in the summer, but Fishburne’s performance is so indelible you can’t forget it. He played Ike like a great casting agent, someone who saw Tina as his ticket to success and never tried to pastel or dilute his vicious behavior. Like De Niro in “Raging Bull,” he tapped into the terror of being unconscious of oneself--and this performance was every bit the equal of that one.

TOM HANKS (“Philadelphia”)

Fine: This isn’t the tour de force Hanks is capable of, because the script doesn’t permit it. Denzel Washington, more than Hanks, is given a character with the kind of growth necessary for an audience to stand up and cheer. Still, Hanks did a wonderful job with what he was given. He creates an immediate likability and empathy and evidences a real vulnerability without falling into the trap of playing stereotypically “gay.”

Alhanti: As an actor and as a character, Hanks projects the sense that he’s on the side of right. He’s one of those rare human beings who have all 52 cards in his deck, and in this case he pulls all of them out. He broke new ground with this role. That scene in which he danced to a Maria Callas aria was painful, glorious and brave.

Moss: I loved Hanks’ wryness and humor, but the strongest part of his performance was his use of physicality. He used himself in a gentle and loving way, conveying a delicacy and sweetness that had nothing to do with cliches.

ANTHONY HOPKINS (“The Remains of the Day”)

Fine: This isn’t a flashy role. An inexperienced actor would have just seen its limitations, but Hopkins plays the character more as a man longing to express himself rather than someone unable to feel. Many actors just want to play the hero, but he picks the scabs and lets the pus run out.

Alhanti: Hopkins was better in “Shadowlands.” In this film, he plays a gentleman’s gentleman, someone who doesn’t permit himself the luxury of emotion, and to me, that reserve and stoicism was a little frustrating and overbearing. Though Hopkins is an exquisite actor, someone who realizes the value of doing less, I felt the part controlled him.

LIAM NEESON (“Schindler’s List”)

Fine: It’s easier to play black and white, but Neeson paints Schindler in shades of gray, an Everyman with all his faults who rises to the occasion. We see the building blocks--the emotional changes--as the atrocities occur so that last scene, in which he addresses his workers, doesn’t come from nowhere. Neeson’s physical stature works to his advantage, but it’s his comfort in his own body that gives him the necessary power and bearing.

Alhanti: Neeson played Schindler like a super-salesman adept at taking advantage of any situation. Though by far his most stylized part to date, it was also very subtle. You never sensed any arrogance or the fact that he saw himself as a savior. If a role is like an onion, Neeson did a magnificent job of peeling off the layers.

Moss: The strength of Neeson’s body was a metaphor for his inner force. You had the feeling he could protect the Jews just by his mass. With subject matter that devastating, you need a charismatic character to be your guide.

Supporting Actress

HOLLY HUNTER (“The Firm”)

Fine: Just as Emma Thompson is so good at making ordinary characters extraordinary, Hunter excels at making outrageous characters believable. Despite her sassiness and strength, this is not a super-woman doing extraordinary things but someone who, like any of us would be, is scared to death taking those risks.

Alhanti: No one can play Southern and gutsy, a little coarse, like Hunter can. Hunter is great at comedy, which is the hardest thing to do. It’s all about timing . . . and some people are tone-deaf.

Moss: Hunter was excellent at bringing a slovenly, low-rent sexuality to the part, but this role was a good one, not a great one. The fact that she was nominated when Gene Hackman, who stole the movie, wasn’t, testifies to how few good parts there are for women.

ANNA PAQUIN (“The Piano”)

Fine: It’s refreshing to see a child actress without a case of “The Cutes.” Paquin truly has an old soul. She was also sensitively directed. Instead of playing on our natural sympathy for children, we’re allowed to hate her, at times. This is as complete a performance as that given by any of the adults in the film.

Alhanti: Paquin was the light in this very dark film. Though she had to be her mother’s voice, the conduit of communication, she never came across bratty.

Moss: A devilish performance in which Paquin had to walk a tightrope--playing a mother to her mother and, at the same time, utterly lost. It was an extraordinary performance, almost scary.

ROSIE PEREZ (“Fearless”)

Fine: Perez is an actress with wonderful emotional facility but hampered by her voice production. Emotions have to flow from ease, and her jaw is always tense. She’s obviously got the goods, but it’s grating to listen to her.

Moss: Perez brought to the role a wonderful, sad bewilderment I haven’t seen in her before. Instead of the tough-talking, got-it-all-together, sexy, impenetrable ladies she usually plays, we’re given a woman up for grabs with no definition or walls, a woman whose life has been busted open and who doesn’t know if it will come back together again.

WINONA RYDER (“The Age of Innocence”)

Fine: With the exception of Michelle Pfeiffer, I don’t think any of the actors in this movie had real blood flowing through their veins. (Director Martin) Scorsese played externals--dishes and scenery--at the expense of relationships and human behavior. Who wants to watch frosting on a cake?

Alhanti: I regarded this character as a piece of porcelain--beautiful, pristine and a little removed. Not until the end of the film did I see a full-blown woman emerge. It’s hard to know whether the problem lies with the direction, the script or her interpretation of the part.

Moss: Ryder plays this part like an iron butterfly--wily, manipulative, steel-willed. She has a gentle, soft-voiced femininity with a certain meanness underneath. I haven’t seen her this brilliant in anything else.

EMMA THOMPSON (“In the Name of the Father”)

Alhanti: This was a very passionate role, and Thompson filled it. She manages to convey a sense of self without ego or arrogance. This is no “best supporting” role, though. If an unknown was cast, I’m sure she would never have been nominated. Still, it took courage for Thompson to play this part, which caused her real problems in England.

Moss: This is a limited role, but Thompson’s intensity of commitment, her railing and outrage made it a pivotal one. Her passion--almost to the point of hysteria--in that last scene helped the film reach a climax.

Supporting Actor

LEONARDO DiCAPRIO (“What’s Eating Gilbert Grape?”)

Fine: The role of a mentally challenged young man poses a minefield of problems for an actor. If you don’t research it adequately, you could base it on your idea of the character instead of on truthful behavior and end up dead in the water. DiCaprio threw himself into the role headfirst without self-consciousness or going over the top. He’s the lifeblood of the film.

Alhanti: I worked with handicapped children, and after seeing the film, it was hard for me to believe that DiCaprio wasn’t retarded. Many actors would have fallen into the trap of playing the externals, but DiCaprio is a real student of human behavior. He showed the playfulness, the impatience, that typifies a person with problems like these.

RALPH FIENNES (“Schindler’s List”)

Fine: What I love about Fiennes’ performance is that he creates a “body center” in his stomach. He makes his body a fortress through which he hides and protects himself. He’s both sexual and repulsive at the same time. Though his character commits heinous acts, he shows us his insecurity. You hate him, but you understand him, which makes his behavior all the more frightening.

Alhanti: This was a very clean, precise performance. Fiennes let nothing get in his way. Many actors tend to put too much icing on the cake, but he didn’t do anything not demanded of him. He played a man who was both tortured and a torturer, which is very hard to convey.

Moss: Fiennes played the character like an adolescent butcher--wild, demented, sensual, desperate, lost, childlike and very charismatic. He was oddly touching, which made him more terrifying.

TOMMY LEE JONES (“The Fugitive”)

Fine: Jones did a great job of humanizing a quintessential hard-ass. We see someone who, like Harrison Ford’s character, is strong-willed, ethical, good at what he does--and capable of growth. And because Jones “owns” every aspect of himself to an unusual degree--there are never any apologies--he always commands our attention.

Moss: One of the things that made Jones’ performance extraordinary was his relationship to the men with whom he worked--his sense of humor and affection when dealing with them. This, we saw, was a real living man instead of a cliche--a blue-collar Everyman with no nuance. Though we hated his actions, we liked the man, which helped to keep the stakes high.

JOHN MALKOVICH (“In the Line of Fire”)

Fine: A lesser actor would have treated the part as the nemesis or enemy of Clint Eastwood’s character, but Malkovich’s brilliance is that he treats him as a colleague or an intimate--almost his other half. This is no stereotypical bad guy, like the ones in James Bond. The line between hero and villain is blurred.

Moss: Few people play rage and evil as well as Malkovich. He demands that you be fascinated by him. While you sense his excitement at outfoxing his opponents, you feel the pain behind his twisted ego. Malkovich is integral to the success of the film, which is essentially a love story between his character and Eastwood’s.

PETE POSTLETHWAITE (“In the Name of the Father”)

Fine: Many actors would have played this character as a spineless victim unable to express himself, but Postlethwaite played the “positive”--a man who lives cleanly, plays by the rules and is betrayed by the system that he respects. That’s the true tragedy. We’re given a limited man trying to maintain his dignity, someone who may have a different set of priorities than we but not someone we’re likely to dismiss.

Alhanti: A wonderful piece of work portraying someone who’s both helpless and heroic. Instead of playing the character like a victim who was submissive and weak, Postlethwaite conveyed the graciousness in the man. The role requires great subtlety but carried the plot.