Clive Owen

Clive Owen, who hasn't been seen on the big screen since his supporting turn as Sir Walter Raleigh in 2007's "Elizabeth: The Golden Age," comes back strong with two lead roles -- both in spy thrillers, though with very distinct tones -- early this year. First is "The International," opening Feb. 13.

THERE is really only one reason Americans will buy the DVD of the second season of the British drama "Chancer," due Tuesday -- and that reason is Clive Owen. There he is on the cover, impossibly young, impossibly handsome, doing that rakish sideways stare into the camera. And this isn't a bit of false advertising either; "Chancer," made in the early '90s, was Owen's breakout role in Britain.

Which of these actors-turned-writers in the last few years made the better film? A. EMILIO ESTEVEZ B. SOFIA COPPOLA C. GEORGE CLOONEY Log on to TheEnvelope.com to vote. * Last week's results on which high-profile actor should lend his voice to an animated feature: Leonardo DiCaprio 72.1% Jack Nicholson 15% Clive Owen 12.9%

Don't let anybody tell you otherwise -- Clive Owen is a movie star. People can talk all they want about his character-actor face or brooding remove, but the 40-year-old Englishman radiates the insouciant charm, strange charisma and dark mystery of a McQueen, Bogart or Mitchum.

Jennifer Aniston and Clive Owen appear comfortable in each other's company, laughing easily between sips of frothy cappuccino in the living room of a hotel suite overlooking Central Park. They're discussing their new film, "Derailed," which opens today and is being billed as a "sexy, psychological thriller." "I love watching thrillers," says Aniston, 36, wearing a loose-weave capelet and skin-tight jeans showing off a Hollywood-perfect physique.

There was a time only several years ago when the English actor Clive Owen would fly to L.A. to make the Hollywood rounds, meeting as he says, "the assistants of the assistants of the assistants." He never met anyone who could make any decisions. Most had never seen his work so said things like "I hear you do a lot of theater," or "Are you a good guy or a bad guy? You have to make a choice." "It's quite soul destroying," he remembers, dryly. Owen opted to preserve his soul, or at least his ego.

One of the great paradoxes of motion pictures is the almost electric attraction audiences have to screen actors who are gifted at stillness as opposed to, well, being in motion. Think of Steve McQueen's blue-steel impassiveness or Clint Eastwood's granite stoicism or, even, Marilyn Monroe's luminous incredulity. Grab the frame, hold the frame and you, too, can be a legend.