Hollywood is full of iconic performances that have series24hd.com etched themselves into our cultural memory—Marlon Brando in the Godfather, Meryl Streep in Sophie’s Choice, Daniel Day-Lewis in There will be Blood. Yet, for every award-winning portrayal that rightly earns its moment in the spotlight, there are countless performances that go largely unnoticed, quietly brilliant and often overshadowed by louder films, bigger stars, or box office buzz. These underrated performances are sometimes the heart and soul of their films, delivering emotional depth, nuance, and transformation that deserve far more appreciation than they received. This blog explores ten such performances—one for each of the artists who brought something extraordinary to the screen without the recognition they deserved.

Take, for instance, Delroy Lindo in Da 5 Bloods (2020). His portrayal of Paul, a deeply conflicted Vietnam War veteran battling PTSD, political disillusionment, and personal loss, was nothing short of electrifying. Lindo dives into the soul of a man unraveling, simultaneously tough and broken, proud and tormented. His monologues burn with raw emotion, especially when he breaks the fourth wall and speaks directly to the audience. It’s a performance that demanded attention, yet it was overlooked by most major awards, leaving fans and critics alike wondering how such powerful work could be ignored. Lindo didn’t just act—he embodied trauma, history, and humanity in a way that lingers long after the credits roll.

Then there’s Toni Collette in Hereditary (2018), a horror film that stunned audiences not just with its disturbing imagery but with Collette’s gut-wrenching performance. As Annie, a mother spiraling into grief and psychological terror, Collette transformed what could have been a genre cliché into a deeply tragic character study. Her performance was raw and explosive, switching from controlled tension to emotional devastation in a heartbeat. Whether she’s screaming through tears or silently unraveling, Collette’s range is haunting. Despite critics’ praise and audiences’ awe, she was snubbed by the Oscars—a glaring omission that still stings for horror fans and cinephiles alike.

Another example is Jake Gyllenhaal’s transformative role in Nightcrawler (2014). As Louis Bloom, a sociopathic cameraman hungry for success in the world of crime journalism, Gyllenhaal delivers one of the most chilling performances of the decade. He lost weight, adopted a jittery physicality, and gave Bloom a predator’s gaze that made viewers uncomfortable—and yet, captivated. It was a career-defining role, yet it slipped past the Academy, reminding us just how often performances that dwell in moral ambiguity go underappreciated. Gyllenhaal’s Louis Bloom is not a character easily forgotten; he’s a modern-day Travis Bickle with a selfie stick and a police scanner.

John Cazale is a name that doesn’t get mentioned as often as it should, yet his body of work—just five films, all of them nominated for Best Picture—is filled with quiet brilliance. In the Deer Hunter (1978), his performance as Stan, a man trying to hold onto his identity in a changing world, is subtle but essential. He never needed to command the spotlight to make an impact. Cazale’s ability to convey insecurity, fear, and yearning in a glance was unparalleled, and while his co-stars in the Godfather and Dog Day Afternoon got more attention, Cazale was often the emotional anchor of those stories. His talent was undeniable, and it’s time more people recognized that.

Another often-overlooked gem is Naomi Watts in Mulholland Drive (2001). David Lynch’s psychological thriller is a mind-bending puzzle, but Watts’s dual performance as bright-eyed Betty and tragic Diane is the glue that holds it together. She swings between naivety and despair with remarkable grace, particularly in the haunting final act. Her audition scene within the film, where the tone of her acting changes on a dime, is a masterclass in performance. Watts was nominated for other roles in her career, but somehow, Mulholland Drive never earned her the awards it should have, even though the film itself has since been hailed as one of the best of the 21st century.

Oscar Isaac in Inside Llewyn Davis (2013) also deserves far more recognition. As the titular character, a struggling folk musician navigating grief and creative frustration, Isaac offers a performance that is both restrained and deeply affecting. He sings, he suffers, he stumbles—and all of it feels heartbreakingly real. The film paints a portrait of an artist on the brink, not of greatness, but of obscurity, and Isaac carries that weight with remarkable subtlety. He doesn’t cry on cue or shout for attention; instead, his pain simmers under the surface. It’s the kind of role that stays with you, quietly echoing long after the final song fades.

In American Honey (2016), Sasha Lane, in her breakout role, brought an unexpected freshness and honesty to the screen. Playing Star, a teenager adrift in a world of poverty, fleeting love, and chaotic freedom, Lane gave a performance that felt more lived-in than acted. She had no previous acting experience, but director Andrea Arnold saw something in her—and Lane delivered, grounding the film’s dreamy visual style with an intensely personal performance. Her Star was defiant, confused, tender, and wild—all at once. It’s a deeply human portrayal of youth and survival that critics loved but award bodies largely ignored.

Paul Dano’s work in Love & Mercy (2014), where he plays the young Brian Wilson of the Beach Boys, is another criminally underrated turn. Dano captures the genius and fragility of Wilson during the band’s most innovative years. His performance is a delicate balance of brilliance and breakdown, showing the emotional toll of creativity and fame. The film alternates between past and present, with John Cusack playing an older Wilson, but it’s Dano who steals the show. He captures the way music both saves and haunts Wilson, and it’s a tragedy that his portrayal didn’t receive more widespread recognition.

In Margaret (2011), Anna Paquin gives a career-defining performance as Lisa, a teenager consumed by guilt and moral confusion after witnessing a fatal bus accident. The film is messy and ambitious, much like the emotions Paquin conveys. Her portrayal of a young woman navigating the weight of responsibility, betrayal, and existential crisis is raw and unfiltered. Paquin, already an Oscar winner for the Piano, showed here that she was capable of leading a film with complex emotional demands. Unfortunately, due to the film’s troubled release and delayed distribution, her work went largely unnoticed outside critical circles.

Lastly, we have Ethan Hawke in First Reformed (2017). As Reverend Toller, a priest grappling with despair, environmental destruction, and his own dwindling faith, Hawke gives a performance that’s both cerebral and deeply spiritual. It’s the kind of slow-burning role that invites introspection, and Hawke plays it with meticulous restraint. His haunted eyes and hushed voice carry the burden of a world in crisis. Many critics named it one of the best performances of the year, but the Oscars failed to nominate him, once again proving that some of the most powerful performances don’t come with a golden statue.

These ten performances represent just a sliver of the brilliance that often slips under the radar in Hollywood. They remind us that acting is not always about the flashiest lines or the biggest transformations. Sometimes, it’s about truth—subtle, quiet, aching truth—that lives in a look, a gesture, or a whispered word. And while awards may come and go, these performances endure, waiting to be discovered—or rediscovered—by audiences who appreciate the art behind the fame.