Let's hope that Zooey Deschanel never becomes a big star. She is an actress who fits so much better to the small movies, the kind of independents that few people see or even hear of, than to anything coming out of Hollywood these days. The expressiveness in her face, particularly in her bold blue eyes, is detrimental to the sadness and the whimsy of these films. Of course, she deserves to be seen in them; she makes them far more enjoyable with her presence, and she would have to be paid well to keep her away from supporting roles in romantic comedies and Tim Allen pictures.
I'm thinking of a kind of film I watched growing up: they arrived in the video store seemingly out from nowhere, never playing at the suburban multiplex and therefore never reaching my young, theatre-dwelling heart until they showed up in cassette form. You could pick one out easily, as it displayed on the shelf with only a single rentable copy, sitting between the plethora of copies of whatever popular titles I'd already seen at the cinemas. These simple dramas were filled with regular folks in probable situations, though most ventured into odd territory now and then. And they always, without fail, featured a small town bar with a minimal amount of patrons, into which the greenhorn protagonist would wander. Winter Passing, starring Deschanel, is the latest example.