It’s a happy birthday to Mary Elizabeth Winstead, who turns 23 today. I still haven’t yet caught her allegedly fleshed out turn in Quentin Tarantino’s extended Death Proof segment of Grindhouse, but Winstead needs to ditch the anonymous horror flicks (even though I generally dig Final Destination 3) and find something to bring her image into sharper focus.

Or, you know, do more photo shoots like the one above. Smallish turns in Factory Girl and Bobby did little for her profile, and does anyone even remember her from Live Free or Die Hard? I really think Winstead has some cross-gender appeal (cute enough for girls, still sexy for guys), but she needs to find the right modern-set showcase for that, whether it’s a P2-type thriller of containment or a nice, sunny romantic comedy. Her sole listed forthcoming credit, Make It Happen, sounds awful — like a warmed-over casserole of Feel the Noise, Step Up, In the Mix, Save the Last Dance and Take the Lead. In fact, Julia Stiles’ career arc notwithstanding, here’s a free tip for all young actresses — if you’re offered a film in which a young girl discovers a new style of dance that proves to be a source of conflict and self-discovery, steer clear. Take a chance on the edgy indie flick instead.

It’s a happy birthday to Scarlett Johansson, who turns 23 today, and no doubt celebrates with a smoke or three. I wonder if Isaac Mizrahi will send her an email or a Target gift card or anything.

while I think she’s talented, she’s not been particularly well served by her choices, including continued collaborations with Woody Allen (two down, one yet to release); better to have done Match Point and skipped out, really. This fall’s The Nanny Diaries didn’t catch fire at the box office (there’s no cuddly relatability factor with Johansson among slightly older females), and I don’t know that other, forthcoming projects with a historical bent (The Other Boleyn Girl, Mary Queen of Scots), in the loose mold of over-acclaimed indie Girl with a Pearl Earring, are necessarily any more likely to give Johansson that much heat or traction. She’s kind of a “tweener” talent, in my opinion — the curvaceous figure and breathy voice of a starlet of years gone by, but with something intrinsically modern about her countenance. Johansson’s best performances (Ghost World, Lost in Translation) rely on an understated petulance or frustration, qualities with which most female lead characters are not typically infused.

The picture above, meanwhile, from the same Golden Globes where Mizrahi committed his carpet-walk grope, to me, umm, robustly embodies Johansson’s off-screen image makeover. It smacks of the ever-so-slightly plump high school ugly duckling who goes off to college, sheds a few pounds and takes their newfound self-esteem out for an over-sexualized test drive. And you know what? I’m fine with that… though I do think there’s a much shorter shelf life for that sort of occupational play.

It’s a happy birthday to Brittany Murphy, who turns 30 today, and celebrates by activating Wonder Twins powers, or perhaps playing a game of “find the nut” with some sort of corporeal reward.

a certain crazy-girl appeal, something that, by my informal count, her three broken engagements would seem to support. I can’t speak to how damaged the goods really are, but I will say this: it’s a shame that Murphy’s starring role in a Janis Joplin biopic never went off. That, I believe, would have been a very solid vehicle for her talents, so adept is she at channeling doomed and troubled women.

It’s a happy birthday to Sam Rockwell, who turns 39 today. While this summer’s Joshua was a stillborn misfire of stilted mood, it at least had the benefit of honest effort, and slightly different modes of expression than most mainstream product. It was a good bit of branching out for Rockwell, too. Long a master of the hair-based performance, Rockwell is sort of where Philip Seymour Hoffman was circa 1997-2000 — in demand with in-the-know directors, and reeling off memorable character work, but still awaiting his Capote. As anyone who’s seen Confessions of a Dangerous Mind will attest, he’s got the talent to break through as a part-time lead (albeit a very screwy one), just like Hoffman. Perhaps his turns in Ron Howard’s Frost/Nixon and the upcoming Choke will give Rockwell the extra little bump in mainstream profile that has thus far eluded him, despite having a fan in George Clooney.

It’s a happy birthday to Rachael Leigh Cook, who turns 28 today. Despite this summer’s Nancy Drew cameo and appearing in the forthcoming The Final Season, Cook is stuck is a rut of inconsequentiality, the result of a really bad 2001 (Antitrust, Josie and the Pussycats and fabled Miramax washout Texas Rangers) and… oh, who am I kidding? The only moment of commercial note in Cook’s career was the 1999 release She’s All That, which topped $100 million theatrically (seriously), and momentarily catapulted her to the top of people’s call lists.

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