James Cromwell vs. James Rebhorn
Battle of the Twin Towers of Glower

What is your worst fear when you're a character actor? That, after patiently whittling out a niche for yourself in the pantheon of supporting-cast staples, and finally gaining a sliver of name recognition (and even an Oscar™ nomination), you'll wake up one morning and discover that a clone-like duplicate of yourself is also gaining a sliver of name recognition and suddenly stealing parts from you, parts that should rightfully be delivered to your doorstep like the morning paper?

No. That's your second-worst fear.

Your worst fear is that you'll wake up one morning, discover your clone-like duplicate, and then find out that the clone has the exact same first name as you do! In other words, can America be expected to keep straight two towering, glowering, pencil-thin whippets of menace, when both of them are named James?

No. America cannot be expected to do that. And therein lies the problem.

James Cromwell looked like he'd pretty much sealed the deal on towering whippets when he followed up his Oscar™-nominated role in Babe (as the spindly, kindly farmer Farmer Hoggett) with his menacing turn as crooked police chief Dudley Smith in L.A. Confidential. Oh, he was on a roll. He was America's numero uno towering whippet.

But there was, to paraphrase Yoda, another -- another towering, glowering James out there, toiling away as tense-jawed surgeons and tightly-wound apparatchiks in films like Regarding Henry and Up Close and Personal and The Game. A James whose appearance as the towering, tightly-wound Herbert Greenleaf in The Talented Mr. Ripley would tip him over into "Hey! It's That Guy!" recognizability. And suddenly, there are two towering, glowering, skull-faced, slightly-menacing-when-they-want-to-be, pencil-thin, scarecrow-esque actors named James. Both fine, fine character actors. And both scrambling for the same small crumb of the character-actor pie.

Only one can have pie.

Advantage: Rebhorn. Cromwell has the Oscar nomination and the range (see Babe), but Rebhorn has the momentum, and, when all is said and done, he towers, glowers, and clenches his jaw just a little bit better, doesn't he?