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For someone who's apparently made about four movies a year, every year, since 1996 (in 2000 alone she had time for The Audition, Cherry Falls, Angels!, and Trixie, with Common Ground, a TV movie, thrown in for good measure), as well as roughly a kajillion TV guest appearances, it's odd that, when we think of Brittany Murphy, only three roles come to mind:
1) Tai Fraiser, the pudgy new girl at school in Clueless
2) Elisabeth Burrows, the cuckoo, gently rocking, "I'll never tell" girl in Don't Say A Word
3) Alex, the grungy, cheatin', ragamuffin girlfriend to Eminem in 8 Mile
Of course, this might be because we've never seen some of Murphy's other roles, such as those in Girl, Interrupted or Riding In Cars With Boys or Just Married, the film that starred Ashton Kutcher, which we wanted to see, except that attending it would have violated our strict rule against seeing films that star Ashton Kutcher.
But we do feel that those three roles give a fairly representative sampling of Ms. Murphy's oeuvre. All three characters are, to some degree, troubled outsiders. (And we're guessing there was a little gentle rocking in Girl Interrupted.) Ms. Murphy has shown an aptitude for such characters. And while we understand that all actresses like to stretch their wings, expand their horizons, and so on, these roles make us wonder one thing: Who thought it was a good idea to reinvent her as Meg Ryan?
Because, frankly, as we watched her rock gently in Don't Say A Word, we weren't thinking, "There's an excellent candidate for daffy romantic comedy." And yet daffy romantic comedy is what she's now pursuing, perhaps because someone (perhaps it was even Ms. Murphy), decided that lovable spunky heroines last longer, go further, and earn better than do troubled, muttering headcases. In fact, troubled, muttering headcases almost always have to reinvent themselves, and they often meet with spotty results. Take Angelina Jolie, the patron saint of muttering headcases. No one does muttering headcase better. So the next logical step is...action star! In plot-free films! Wearing hot pants!
Again -- we understand the stretching and the expanding. Though we suspect that Jolie's shift was spurred more by marketability than artistic adventurousness. And we suspect that the same is true of Murphy. There's got to be, like, two choice headcase roles a year (and likely in low-paying indie films) while there's at least six dozen daffy romantic comedies, all looking for a young and perky Meg Ryan manqué to play their leads.
The trouble, as we see it, is that Murphy doesn't do young and perky so well. Not nearly as well, at least, as she does crazy and off-kilter. Watching her in Little Black Book is painful not only because everything about Little Black Book is painful, but also because she looks like the casting director bought her from a white-slave trader, cleaned her up, blew out her hair, slapped on some makeup, pointed her toward the set and slapped her rump with a riding crop.
Which is to say, Brittany Murphy may be many things, but, for whatever reason, she doesn't exactly radiate "wholesome." People are clearly trying to change this perception, but people aren't doing a very good job. In the meantime, she always looks a little bit like she's just been interrupted while having sex with her dealer.
Which is fine -- in fact, it's preferred -- if you're playing Eminem's coked-out lady friend in 8 Mile, but not so good if you're trying to fit into Meg Ryan's glass slippers. We're certainly not implying that Murphy has a dealer, or sex, or is in any way unwholesome. Just that she seems to be well suited for one kind of role, and not so well suited for another kind of role. And as long as she's pursuing that other kind of role, she must pay back little bits of her modest fame, slowly and in small increments, until it is all but gone.
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