After the deeply satisfying response to my hatred of Tom Cruise, I thought about posting about some of the actors I do adore–Johnny Depp, John Malkovich, Cary Grant, Jimmy Stewart, the older Sean Connery.  And maybe I will at some point. 

But I just saw The Darjeeling Limited last night and must confess my deep fondness for Owen Wilson.  Past experience suggests that a number of people violently disagree with this assessment, but I find him utterly charming.  I believe this fondness dates back to Shanghai Noon, which I thought was absolutely fabulous, but in everything from Royal Tennenbaums to Zoolander I feel pretty much the same.  Of course he generally plays the exact same character, the spacey California-boy Zen philosopher who keeps up an excessive running commentary on every action, who always hopes for the best but tries to find Deep Meaning in the catastrophes that ensue anyway.  The guy who has no compunctions about expressing his feelings for other men, to an extent they often find disconcerting.  The overgrown boy Pollyanna with the crooked nose.

Of course, the tabloids tell us that like so many Pollyannas, Owen doesn’t always find it so easy to find the bright side.  But you know, that only makes me fonder.

 I mean, he’s no Johnny Depp, but then again, who is?