Imagine a catfight between two English geriatrics-one in a tiara beating the other, in a dowdy schoolmarm's housedress, with her scepter. No, this is not the scenario of a new wave of fetish porn, but rather the way the competition for Best Actress at this year's Academy Awards is shaping up. Yes, these two pugilistic divas are Helen Mirren and Judi Dench, nominated for their sterling work in The Queen and Notes on a Scandal, respectively. Unfortunately for Dame Judi, who turned in an uncharacteristic performance as a duplicitous schoolteacher on the DL, this fight is already over. Mirren, who has been widely regaled for her portrayal of not one but both Queens Elizabeth this Awards Season, has her grip on that little gold man even more tightly than on the stick rumored to have been inserted into her derriŠre to lend her performance in The Queen that extra ounce of authenticity.
There is not much more suspense in the Best Actor category. Peter O'Toole revives his perennial role as the trusty fifth nominee (come on, nominated for The Stunt Man?) for his unseen performance in Venus, while Will Smith, in the saccharine The Pursuit of Happyness, vies for the Edward-James-Olmos-for-Stand-and-Deliver Commemorative Nomination. Both, however, will knuckle under to Forrest Whitaker of Ghost Dog: Way of the Samurai fame for his dynamic portrayal of slobbery African despot Idi Amin in The Last King of Scotland.
Odds are similarly smiling on Jennifer Hudson, who brings plus size back as a Motown diva in Dreamgirls for Best Supporting Actress. She will likely win the award at the expense of Abigail Breslin's too-cute-for-words performance as the titular pole dancer in training in Little Miss Sunshine. Her co-star, the drug- and sex-addicted grandfather played with crotchety gusto by Alan Arkin, may win a long-overdue Best Supporting Actor (heck, he should have won for his consummately creepy turn in Wait Until Dark thirty years ago). More likely, though, he will also succumb to Dreamgirls, and to another junkie at that in the form of a moussed-up Eddie Murphy.
Best Director will be interesting. While the Academy is not averse to miscarrying justice (winners: J.G. Avildsen, G.R. Hill, T. Richardson; non-winners: A. Hitchcock, S. Kubrick, O. Welles), it will be very hard to continue actively shafting Marty Scorsese, this time for The Departed, easily his best work since The Age of Innocence. Will they, however, choose to grant a third statuette to Letters from Iwo Jima's Clint Eastwood? At least we know Stephen Frears has no chance. In the end, the momentum seems to be with Scorsese-but this is a close race and anything (well, except Mr. Frears winning) can happen.
Handicapping the Best Picture race is similar to Best Director. Although Saving Private Ryan II: Flags of Our Fathers was a disappointment, Mr. Eastwood redeemed himself with the exceptional Letters from Iwo Jima. Likewise, Mr. Scorsese has ceased hallucinating that he is actually Sir Richard Attenborough and has turned from Kundun and The Aviator back to what he knows best with the engrossingly frenetic The Departed. The Queen still has no chance. Thinking back to the 1999 awards-when Picture and Director were split between Shakespeare in Love and Steven Spielberg for Saving Private Ryan I-this year's atmosphere seems similarly ripe for ticket splitting. In the end, the combination of Mr. Scorsese finally eking out a win for Director, and the sweeping, epic Letters from Iwo Jima taking the top prize represents the golden opportunity the Academy has long awaited to atone for its Shakespeare in Love and Hitchcock-Kubrick-Welles sins in one fell swoop.
