Hollywood’s search for the next “It Girl” is perpetual, almost humorously unending, and occasionally it leads them down strange paths, but if I had to lay money on the staying power of a female up-and-comer outside An Education‘s Carey Mulligan, I’d most likely turn eyes to the 25-year-old Zoe Kazan, the cherubic-faced granddaughter of Elia Kazan, and daughter of screenwriter-directors Nicholas Kazan and Robin Swicord. More Amy Adams than Rachel McAdams, Kazan made an impression in a small but pivotal role in last year’s Revolutionary Road, getting bedded by Leonardo DiCaprio (which, hey, boded well for Elizabeth Banks in Catch Me If You Can), and she’s an absolute airy delight in Richard Linklater’s Me & Orson Welles, which hits screens in late November. She only figures in three scenes, as part of a loose framing device for the larger narrative proper, but she creates a whole-bodied character who spills over into its frames, and makes you wish there was some spin-off companion piece. Now comes word that indie distributor Oscilloscope has picked up the North American rights to Bradley Rust Gray’s The Exploding Girl, for which Kazan won Best Actress honors at the Tribeca Film Festival. So… check back in two years; Adams and Zooey Deschanel can’t hold down all the ingenue roles.

I was discussing R.J. Cutler’s The September Issue with a friend and colleague recently, and the idea that clothes say more than words, or even body language (their assertion). I disagree, but it’s undeniable that there are some for whom fashion is a religion… or a church, let’s say. High-end or designer clothes provide not just a status symbol, or stamp of outwardly reflected, au courant modernity (though that’s it for some, sure), but a sense of actual order. Their understanding and engagement with the outside world is funneled through the external packaging. I know this because I’ve seen it in the askance glances or judgments on harmless professional attire of mine — shirts matched with ties, or jeans and Oxford button-downs — and I think I’m a fashion zero, more or less, tidy enough to look nice, but generally unadventurous enough to avoid attention. (Except when it comes to some novelty and/or hand-altered T-shirts.) I know many more women like this than men, but it’s not at all uncommon, and it’s not merely a social snobbery thing either. Part of the success of The September Issue, I believe, stems from the manner in which the movie embraces that enormously self-serious reverence, while also showcasing the capriciousness of its tastemakers and the all-too-familiar pettiness of its office rivalries. At any rate, something to ponder. To view the film’s trailer, click here.