5. Johnny Depp/Helena Bonham Carter
I've included these two as a pair because their criticism tends to stem from the same place: Tim Burton. Both of them have absolutely wonderful careers under their belts even if you cut and paste their Tim Burton movies into a filmic netherworld. Helena Bonham Carter was Oscar-nominated for her leading performance in The Wings of a Dove in 1997 - four years prior to the release of her first project with Tim Burton. Is that not enough for you? Try her phenomenal turn in Fight Club two years prior. But perhaps more importantly, I can't recall a case of Tim Burton ever miscasting her. She's great in Big Fish. Hell, she's the best thing in Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street, which is saying something because that film stands up as, perhaps, the best adaptation of a stage-musical prior to Les Miserables coming along and blowing everyone out of the water (and she's also in that one). And even in the poorer collaborations of theirs, there's nothing wrong with her acting. Dark Shadows, for example, wasn't bad because of Helena Bonham Carter - it was bad because of an awful script and a muddled tone. Another complaint seems to be that she plays nothing but alternative, kooky characters designed to appeal to insecure, teenage goths, but again, it's simply not true. She's good at playing roles like that so she does it a lot, but she's also capable of gorgeously nuanced and subtle performances such as that in Conversations With Other Women. She's just an all-round bloody fantastic actress. Johnny Depp receives pretty much the same criticism, except slightly worse because men seem jealous of the way that legions of women are madly infatuated with him. Depp has, pretty much, the exact same arguments in his defence as Helena, too. He has three Oscar nominations to date; two thirds of which are for non-Burton efforts. And, as with Helena, his repeated casting is never a hindrance to the film. The one exception to the rule is Alice in Wonderland, but that film was terrible from start to finish, so it's not like Depp's half-baked, confused performance really did it much damage. It's not as if the director/actor collaborative team is something specific to Johnny Depp and Tim Burton, either. Scorcese repeatedly worked with De Niro, but people didn't complain about it. Hitchcock repeatedly worked with Jimmy Stewart, but people didn't complain about it. Wes Anderson repeatedly works with Bill Murray, but people don't complain about it. Film is a collaborative medium, so when two talented people decide that they're comfortable enough with each other to want to work with each other repeatedly, then surely that's a good thing for everyone involved, including us, the audience?