Calendar Big Oscars Issue : We, the Oscar Jury : Three drama coaches bluntly assess the acting nominees. (Hint: Grand gestures and phoning it in don’t cut it.)

Does academy recognition signify perfection, the consummate performance of a role? Not according to three outspoken acting coaches who--having gone out on a limb with their assessment of last year’s acting nominees--are back for a return engagement.

Janet Alhanti, Howard Fine and Larry Moss give us an inside look at the current crop of contenders, pointing out the heights they reached--and pitfalls into which they fell.

Here is a sampling of their critiques:

BEST ACTRESS

JODIE FOSTER (“Nell”)

Janet Alhanti: The character came across as an eternal child rather than the sexual creature all that nudity in the water would lead us to believe. There was so much body language, she seemed almost retarded, or a mute rather than someone speech-impaired. Because of the oversimplification, we were watching an archetype, not a human being.

Howard Fine: One of the first things you teach actors is to rediscover the sensory awareness they had as a child. Foster’s senses are so available to her that she infuses this performance with a sense of wonder at the world. This was a risky role--not just the nudity but having to communicate through nonsense language. It reminded me of Holly Hunter in “The Piano.”

Larry Moss: I’ve never seen an American actress exhibit her body with such abandonment. While Europeans regard the body as playful and innocent as well as erotic, our actresses approach it primarily as sexual. Complete nudity is almost never done. That scene in which the town bullies sexualize the character is one of the most powerful portrayals of innocence I’ve seen.

JESSICA LANGE (“Blue Sky”)

Alhanti: Lange plays fiery, reckless, sensual, creative and a manic depressive rolled into one brilliant performance. Her Carly constantly reminds you “I exist.” The only other actress I can imagine taking this role to the limit and still remaining believable is Gena Rowlands. “Blue Sky” is the best thing Lange has done.

Moss: Lange’s character reveals the horror of losing her looks and an even deeper horror of disappearing altogether. Playing the role was courageous since, in a business that puts beautiful movie actresses out to pasture as they age, it’s right on the button for her personally. Lange plays hungry sexuality with gusto--in contrast to her Broadway portrayal of (“Streetcar Named Desire’s”) Blanche DuBois, in which she was unable to project her voice or body past the third row.

MIRANDA RICHARDSON (“Tom & Viv”)

Alhanti: Richardson delivered an extremely technical, precise performance in which we were essentially watching her “act.” I never felt like I was looking at a real person. The actress also revealed an ignorance of emotional dysfunction. Rather than letting the symptoms act upon her, she played them as they might have appeared in a medical book.

Fine: Whereas Nigel Hawthorne allows us to see a man losing his grip, Richardson lapses into cliche. By distancing herself from the character, she creates a caricature.

Moss: Like Meryl Streep and Judy Davis, Richardson is fearless in revealing the antisocial aspects of herself. One of the great strengths of this performance is that she apologizes for nothing. Everything Richardson touches reinforces her portrait of someone gasping for breath.

WINONA RYDER (“Little Women”)

Alhanti: Ryder’s performance stands above the portrayals of Jo given in the past. Katharine Hepburn played her as boyish and strident. June Allyson relied on confection. But Ryder played the character as a real person, ahead of her time.

Moss: It cripples Ryder as an actress if we lead her to think this is Oscar material. There’s nothing extraordinary about her performance, as there is in the one given by Claire Danes (Beth). As Jo, Ryder lacks the combustible fire of someone who has to be an artist or die. That may be because she hasn’t lived enough--or lacks stage experience, which is the only way to grow.

SUSAN SARANDON (“The Client”)

Alhanti: The character is opinionated, unmovable, takes unpopular stands--not unlike Ms. Sarandon herself. But she’s a better actress than the part. That she was nominated for this points out the tragedy of this medium: Our actresses--tremendous natural resources--are being shortchanged.

Fine: Sarandon gives us a portrait of a woman filled with regret yet determined not to be a “victim.” You know you’re seeing good acting when more is revealed by what you see than by what is being said. When she looks at her young client, you sense her pain at having her own child taken from her. In the scenes with Tommy Lee Jones, you sense how desperately she’s trying to stand her ground.

BEST ACTOR

MORGAN FREEMAN (“The Shawshank Redemption”)

Alhanti: There’s something so centered about Freeman that translates into his work. He didn’t play “the convict” but his own man--someone who wheels and deals as a means of survival but isn’t underhanded. An actor is essentially a reactor, and Freeman is a marvelous one.

Fine: The danger in this role was to play the man as a cynic. Freeman gives us a man who longs to believe yet is afraid to give over to his heart. His character is the prison. Because Freeman is so adept at creating a rich inner life, everything he does is with authority.

Moss: It is the rare actor who can play with the simplicity and economy Freeman does and sustain a performance for that long. I’ve never seen the rebirth of hope so movingly shown. Actors deepen as they age, and that bleeds into their work. Freeman, too, paid the price. To be successful as a black actor in this society means he--like (Sidney) Poitier or (Laurence) Fishburne--is too good to deny.

TOM HANKS (“Forrest Gump”)

Alhanti: Hanks always delivers in an uncomplicated way--which takes years of practice. Still, you wonder whether he was walking through the part or turning in a brilliant performance that seems effortless. I’d like to see the passion and rage on screen he displayed in his Oscar speech last year.

Fine: The trap would have been to play this character as dumb. Hanks played him as a man uncluttered by intellectual baggage, which he turns into a virtue. Hanks had to commit himself to an awkward speech pattern and physicality, which would have looked and sounded silly if he was inhibited. For a leading man to tackle this role takes guts.

Moss: Hanks dug deep inside himself and found the part of Gump that the character never wanted to feel. The look on his face when he’s told his son is “normal” made us realize the big-time emotional price he paid.

NIGEL HAWTHORNE (“The Madness of King George”)

Fine: In “period” work--especially when playing royalty, most actors float above the performance and posture. Hawthorne manages to suggest the vulnerability of the man under the costume. To convey dementia, he sidesteps arbitrary antic behavior to show a loss of control. Since we sense his embarrassment and fear, we identify with him--even though he’s king.

Moss: This role is an actor’s dream. Hawthorne hits every note, showing us a soul in anarchy. Some of our greatest film performances--Streisand in “Funny Girl,” Sidney Poitier in “Raisin in the Sun”--come from actors who played the role onstage. When they go out there every night, it’s in their cells.

PAUL NEWMAN (“Nobody’s Fool”)

Alhanti: Though the character is supposed to come off like a crotchety old geezer lusting after young women, that never comes through. You need a Jack Lemmon or a Walter Matthau since Newman is still one of the sexiest men on the screen. I’ll never understand why he didn’t run off with Melanie Griffith in the end.

Fine: Newman--one of the more relaxed actors on camera--does a great job playing a regular Joe. Whereas some actors play dramatic moments by yelling and screaming, Newman keeps things close to the vest. Unlike Anthony Hopkins, he keeps himself in a comfort zone he never breaks through. For us to know the pot is boiling, though, it must boil over a bit. Dramatic tension would make subtle moments look more like choices rather than the actor’s limitations.

Moss: To see Newman struggle to unearth the love frozen in the past is the kind of work it takes a lifetime to achieve--and he tops it off by finding a humor and irony that prevents the role from descending into a maudlin haze. This is new ground for him. He shows a regret in the character that is the deepest I’ve seen him go.

JOHN TRAVOLTA (“Pulp Fiction”)

Alhanti: There’s something very lived-in about Travolta that makes an uncommon character very familiar. Travolta gives off such warmth, uses such an easy gait, that we’re charmed by the man. That’s the most frightening kind of criminal.

Fine: Travolta is an indelible presence--conveying a nervousness underneath the one-liners, a likability crucial to our ability to identify with a hit man. Travolta makes a graceful entry into the “character actor” phase of his career; still, this is more of a supporting part. I would have flipped the nominations: In terms of range of expression, Samuel Jackson has the edge.

BEST SUPPORTING ACTRESS

ROSEMARY HARRIS (“Tom & Viv”)

Fine: Harris’ years of experience let her shine in a movie in which she’s basically acting alone--the only one working from a truth-ful place. She does a superb job of playing the matriarch of the family without lapsing into affectation.

Moss: Like Gary Oldman, Ralph Fiennes and Daniel Day-Lewis, Harris smashes the myth of the overly technical English actor. Her last scene, in which she confronts her daughter’s executioner, is the kind of breathtaking work that Oscars are made for--exhibiting both a reverence for language and the human emotion to fill it.

HELEN MIRREN (“The Madness of King George”)

Fine: In lesser hands, we’d get soul-less acting and vocalizing set in beautiful costumes. Here we get a woman disgusted with her son’s treatment of his father. Instead of going in with an agenda, she takes on the circumstances and discovers her choices from that place.

Moss: Mirren lets us see that she is first and foremost a wife--who happens to be a queen. The actress has a sad weariness about her that serves her well in the role. This is a thankless part compared with Hawthorne’s, but like Nancy Reagan, Mirren exhibits a fierce single-mindedness in her every look at the king.

UMA THURMAN (“Pulp Fiction”)

Fine: The mistake would be to play this part as a “bad girl,” but Thurman avoids this pitfall by showing us the before life of the character--a failed actress-adventure-seeker medicating her pain with drugs, alcohol and sex. This allows us to care about a character who might otherwise repulse us. There’s a danger to Thurman that adds to her gutsiness. And her beauty helps soften the role a bit.

Moss: Thurman gives a brave performance as a zombie-doll with no awareness of the consequences. Though she brings a vacant beauty to the role, she wasn’t afraid to be ugly: nose bleeding, mouth dribbling. Her sensory work on the coke overdose was wonderful.

JENNIFER TILLY (“Bullets Over Broadway”)

Alhanti: Tilly played this role like someone tone-deaf demanding a solo and expecting all the perks that go with stah-dumb. You have to be very talented to act so untalented. She looked so tall and powerful I didn’t recognize her. This is the first thing I’m aware of that she’s done this well.

Fine: When an actor nails a character like this it looks easy. But one wrong step and you’re in caricature land. Tilly manages to convey sexiness and innocent sweetness even when ruthlessly pursuing her ambitions. Playing off Palminteri and John Cusack--actors with strong points of view--she more than held her own.

Moss: In this role, Tilly seems to have a spinal cord that doesn’t touch her brain. It brings back Judy Holliday in “Born Yesterday.” I never liked Tilly, because like Melanie Griffith she was so limited in her voice, but this is the best use of her talent I’ve seen.

DIANNE WIEST (“Bullets Over Broadway”)

Alhanti: Wiest was right on the money as the diva deluxe. This role was much harder than Tilly’s since she had to epitomize all that theatricality yet, on a dime, let you in to realize who she really is.

Fine: No one plays eccentrics better than Dianne Wiest. She turns what could have been an over-the-top performance into a work of art. You only perceive “size” in a performance if the motivation isn’t there.

Moss: Wiest makes comic acting--the hardest--seem effortless. She shows us a woman who sees life as a drama on which the curtain will fall only when she drops dead. Wiest is a great technician and inventive as hell. If she played the part with any less largess, she would have failed.

BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR

SAMUEL L. JACKSON (“Pulp Fiction”)

Alhanti: He evokes laughter and fear, cockiness and passion simultaneously. There’s an arrogance to him--an “I dare you” in most of his work. At first, the character displays a complete disregard for life, but he ultimately sees the light and fights for it. This is Jackson’s most memorable role to date.

Fine: Jackson’s performance is the backbone of the movie. The script asks him to play seemingly opposite ends of the spectrum, but instead of playing this as a contradiction, Jackson focuses on the character’s newfound clarity. The trap would have been to play him like a maniacal killer, which would have made the movie trivial and unbearable. By not defining the character by what he does, Jackson makes the tale a universal one.

Moss: Jackson played this role as a sadistic clown who mysteriously trips on salvation. He makes you laugh, scares the hell out of you, then, miraculously, touches your heart. He and Travolta are Laurel and Hardy, Abbott and Costello--bickering like all great comedy teams.

MARTIN LANDAU (“Ed Wood”)

Alhanti: Landau’s performance as Bela Lugosi could have been National Lampoon-ized. In a stylized movie, it’s easy to play camp or to hide behind makeup. But Landau shows us a man who suffers, someone who’s a “discard.” I’m sure that Landau understands that very well.

Fine: Landau gives us a portrait of a once-proud man who has outlived his usefulness in the industry. While an impressionist seeks to impersonate for comic effect, an actor seeks to inhabit the character, merging his own soul with it. Landau brings his own deep understanding of the indignities suffered during his career in Hollywood, which has had its share of ups and downs.

CHAZZ PALMINTERI (“Bullets Over Broadway”)

Alhanti: Palminteri plays a hoodlum with the heart of a poet. His impatience dealing with a no-talent starlet turns into a stage noir in which he plots a murder for the sake of art. As a New York or “neighborhood” guy, he doesn’t have to play the role, he knows it. And he has marvelous comic flair.

Moss: Palminteri is very funny as a humorless, amoral goon who becomes as ruthless an artist. The way he touches the binding of the script he’s written conveys the integrity in his art. That scene is Woody Allen saying artists are beyond judgment, that their only job is to be artists. The movie was made during his feud with Mia Farrow and is his answer to a society that would judge him.

PAUL SCOFIELD (“Quiz Show”)

Alhanti: Scofield is the best thing in the film. Though he’s English, the Yankee morality seems to come quite naturally. The difference between Scofield and Ralph Fiennes is that he didn’t bend the character to be comfortable. As a foreigner, Fiennes never understood that (Charles) Van Doren represented the best of us. He played him like a well-bred graduate of the British public schools with a slickness the real man didn’t have.

Fine: This is not a flashy role like Scofield’s “A Man for All Seasons,” but there’s beauty in its simplicity. The actor doesn’t play it as a remote academic but as a man guided by a moral compass who becomes the conscience of the film. Instead of manufacturing reactions, his confidence and understanding of human behavior permit him to take things in. When his son confessed to cheating, the disappointment in Scofield’s eyes was heartbreaking.

Moss: Scofield gives us a narcissist hiding behind academic brilliance. He’s so charming you almost forget he’s helping to destroy his son--competing with him, putting down his accomplishments. The character is ruthless but completely unaware of his destruction. Scofield is that rare breed, along with Albert Finney and John Gielgud, who has inhabited so many great roles they become transparent vessels for character.

GARY SINISE (“Forrest Gump”)

Alhanti: A strong, powerful portrait of a fallen leader who couldn’t cope with his loss of manliness. Though a computer took care of the missing limbs, the part was, physically, very demanding. I used to work with amputees, and Sinise got the reliance on the upper torso down pat. He was also effective showing the healing process. The character stopped looking down at his legs and started looking up.

Fine: Sinise is so comfortable with his own sexuality that he’s naturally macho. He can take risks because he’s not insecure about who he is. Sinise’s stage background helped him sustain the concentration required by a role that demanded he go from light to dark back to light again. His character has all of the darker tones Hanks didn’t, which added dimension and reality to the film.

Moss: To his credit, Sinise refused to sentimentalize a character full of self-pity. Still, it was a predictable performance in a predictable role in a script full of holes. Sinise has yet to crack open where one suspects he’s able to go.

Janet Alhanti counts Pierce Brosnan and Ann-Margret among her clients. Howard Fine has coached Garry Shandling and Val Kilmer, among others. Larry Moss’ recent students include Jason Alexander, Paul Reiser and Helen Hunt.