Did Gary Busey deserve an oscar nod for his scar storytelling scene?

OK, I think the Oscar suggestion is overdoing it a *tad*. . . but the Busey/Prince Henry Stout monologue is frickin' fantastic, truly engaging and chilling and the main reason why I still watch this movie when it comes on cable. And yes, there is an argument that "hey, that's just Busey, he's just playing himself, that's not acting" --but think about it: How many other movies have you seen in which Gary Busey is essentially cast as "himself" --wild-eyed, short-circuited, brimming with violence and his own peculiar brand of macho mysticism? Lots. Pretty much every role he gets these days is some variation on that guy. Do all those roles contain a moment like the Prince Henry Stout speech? No, they don't. Among classic psycho Busey moments, this one stands out. First of all, Busey doesn't usually get this kind of material to work with. He tends to get the kind of lines that he has in Soldier, which treat the Busey persona as a joke and a cardboard cutout from the first frame to the last. Secondly, Busey still has enough wits left (or he did when this film was made, anyway) to take a good speech like this and knock it flat out of the park, reminding us all that once upon a time the guy was, in fact, not such a bad actor. It still takes a certain amount of acting skill to recognize yourself in a character and to portray that version of yourself accurately and with strength and cinematic presence, not just as if it was just you kicking back and reading a story out loud or having an everyday conversation with friends. Much as I like Rutger Hauer in general (doing a passable but far less memorable job of playing himself in this film than Busey does, or even than Hauer himself does in other films), and though I admit that Ice-T and Charles S. Dutton have some enjoyable and/or respectable moments throughout, Busey, his character and particularly this speech are the reason to watch this movie. If it was the filmmakers' intention not to follow the convention normally observed with these movies in which Busey's character would probably be the last to drop out before Hauer's, I can respect their desire not to be too formulaic; but I think in this case they dropped the ball. I'm obviously not alone amongst those whose interest level in this film plummets as soon as Doc Hawkins leaves the picture; and besides, please --after the Prince Henry Stout speech and everything, how is it possible that Doc Hawkins folds so easily? Boo. . .





[H]e that breaks a thing to find out what it is has left the path of wisdom.