Washington ? And now the envelope, please. One thing to be said for the accelerated timetable of Democratic presidential primaries is that the nomination was settled just hours after the Academy Awards went off the air.

With that inspiration (and no pretense of matching Billy Crystal’s wit) let’s hand out the political Oscars of this season. More will be announced after November.

It’s obvious that the John Kerry campaign was the political equivalent of “The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King.” Just as that epic dominated the Oscars, the Massachusetts senator won battle after battle, starting in Iowa and going right through Super Tuesday.

That he did so even after his chances had been dismissed by his rivals and by many reporters before the turn of the year spoke volumes about Kerry’s tenacity.

It was not a surprise. He had shown similar qualities in turning back the challenge to his continued Senate tenure in 1996 from Massachusetts Gov. Bill Weld, the most appealing Republican officeholder in a generation in the Commonwealth.

Looking ahead to his race with President Bush, Kerry can draw some comfort from the fact that he has faced a Republican as personable as Bush and beaten him on the issues.

But this will be a tougher contest by far, and there will be plenty to write as it unfolds.

For now, those envelopes, with a few freehand variations: Best Director: It has to be Mary Beth Cahill, who took over as manager of a badly divided and staggering Kerry campaign on Nov. 10 and led it flawlessly and unobtrusively to victory. Cahill had a talented group of consultants and advisers on her staff, but it was her calm and competence that seemed to liberate Kerry from worries about what was going on in headquarters and allowed him to focus on his job as candidate.

Best Actor: John Edwards finished second in delegates, but no one delivered his lines better than the young senator from North Carolina. When Sam Brown, a Kerry volunteer who traipsed across the country helping his friend from the anti-Vietnam protest days, finally got to hear Edwards give his stump speech at the party dinner in Milwaukee, two days before the Wisconsin primary, he was blown away.

He was far from alone. Starting in Iowa, people in increasing numbers came to see Edwards out of curiosity and left as converts. And the former trial lawyer had the actor’s discipline to go through the script with the same degree of conviction and seeming spontaneity almost every time — an awesome performance.

Best Supporting Actress: A tie between Elizabeth Edwards and Teresa Heinz Kerry, who campaigned vigorously and effectively on their own and managed, when on stage with their husbands, to avoid the adoring gaze that once was expected from the candidate’s spouse. Smart, independent women, they did much to signal a welcome change in American society. And a special award to Judith Steinberg Dean, who sent the same message simply by sticking to her medical practice.

Best Supporting Actor: Ted Kennedy, who almost literally raised the roof when he introduced Kerry at rallies. And a special award to Max Cleland and the other wounded Vietnam vets for whom each trip to a new city and each climb onto the stage was an act of courage and a tribute to their buddy, John Kerry.

Most Gracious Withdrawal: Joe Lieberman, who left with his dignity and convictions intact, and went home to a deserved warm welcome in Connecticut.

Most Gracious Endorsement: Wes Clark, the retired general who came out to Wisconsin to endorse former Navy Lieutenant Kerry, and said to the winner: “Sir, request permission to come aboard.”

And an innovative Oscar, which the Academy is free to copy, the Worst Supporting Actor Award: Jerry McEntee of AFSCME, who jumped the gun on most other labor leaders in hopes of being the kingmaker in Howard Dean’s campaign, and then publicly abandoned Dean a week before Wisconsin.

Dean had plenty of faults, but he didn’t deserve this. As columnist Mark Shields has written, McEntee’s double cross probably scotches whatever hopes he had to become the next president of the AFL-CIO. Loyalty is supposed to mean something in politics and in life, and he failed the test big-time.

David Broder is a columnist for Washington Post Writers Group.