It comes down to a battle between a man of action versus a man of words; fitting, in some way, for what I would argue might have been the final spot in the category for Best Actor.

Bradley Cooper’s performance as Navy SEAL sniper Chris “The Legend” Kyle is freshly in my mind, since I finally caught American Sniper two nights before the Academy Awards nominations announcement. The film is a Clint Eastwood “joint” (if you’ll indulge my use of the term), a tightly focused piece of narrative that’s like a bullet trained dead-center on its target. The images pierce the screen with pinpoint accuracy and not a single artistic flourish. Eastwood, the director (and truth be told, the actor as well), is not an artful filmmaker, but don’t take that as a slight or a backhanded compliment. I simply mean that the man wastes no time with grandly crafted gestures or visionary stamps. His “style” is blunt as the plain-spoken truth, which is why, it could be argued that his earlier effort this year – Jersey Boys – despite his affection for the times and music, fell flat. He couldn’t quite figure how to strip the artifice away from the movie musical trappings of the source.

This time, he’s got no such hindrances. American Sniper is pure Eastwood, the kind of film you could imagine him stepping in front of the camera for as well, a few decades ago. It is doubtful that he would have adopted Kyle’s Texas drawl, but every other element would have been in place. The certainty of belief. The willingness to pull the trigger and the psychological toll of the mounting kills. The tight stare down the gun sights.

And the thing is, as perfect as he would have been, and in some ways, as on-point as Cooper is in his own portrayal, this is not the role that screams for a Best Actor nomination. Cooper gets the nod because we’ve watched and appreciated his ongoing transformation from quip pretty boy to serious actor – he’s beating Matthew McConaughey at his own game and doing so without lolly gagging in the rom-com world as long – thanks to his work with David O. Russell (Silver Linings Playbook & American Hustle). I can’t say I have been completely won over by that work, at least not the Oscar nomination snagging that has taken place, but in comparison to this turn in American Sniper, I’m willing to concede that those other efforts had a punchy charismatic jazz going for them that’s missing here. His Chris Kyle is a set of dead eyes peeping for a soul that’s dying a little bit each time that trigger gets squeezed.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, there is David Oyelowo’s majestic Martin Luther King in Selma. On paper, this isn’t exactly a fair fight. King, as a subject offers an endless fount of words, that recognizable timbre, the full and undeniable weight of history and righteousness. As explored in this case, King is also a man with doubts and human appetites, a bit of a sinner, but still the familiar figure from the pictures on our walls and our history books. He gives great speeches, soul-stirring and full of gravitas, but this King talks in everyday situations or amongst those closest to him, and Oyelowo convinces us that his beautiful mind was as human as our own. King fumbles the moment when Coretta confronts him about his infidelities; here he comes across, not as a man of words, words lobbed to cover-up, to rail about the charges. Instead, we get to see King when words fail him, when they fail to come to his defense. We see him searching though.

Intriguingly, that is not the only time that Oyelowo stands exposed. Later, on the bridge during his initial appearance with the marchers, when it is time to make a move, to cross before the parted sea of police and citizens, again he is silent, uncertain. And this time, he takes a knee, for a moment of prayer, words between the man and his God, imploring for a sign as to what choice to make. I appreciate that hesitancy, and each instance when we see King watching or waiting for the right words because if we look closely, what DuVernay and Oyelowo grant us is the opportunity to study an example of thoughtfulness. This is no mere lip service to the adage – think before you speak – this is a case study, and an indication of how it can be put into practice in a performance, making the words, when they are employed, even more meaningful.

If this were a boxing scorecard, I would have Oyelowo winning commandingly on points, not solely based on talent though. His role and performance afford him more power punches and body blows per round and he lands them at a rate like we rarely see in such competitions. The eye test says this was a snubbing of the highest order. (tt stern-enzi)