Colin isn't a good name for an actor. It may not be a good name for anyone. It's a Scottish name, as it happens, and it means youth. There was a time when it ranked among the top fifty names in Scotland. Now it's not even in the top hundred. The world, it seems, is finally waking up to the limitations the name Colin imposes upon a person. For example, no Colin has ever won an Academy Award® for Best Actor. Not even for Best Supporting actor. Once, a Colin won Best Screenplay (Welland, for Chariots of Fire), but that's as far as the Academy will ever allow a Colin to go.

It's a cursed name. If you don't believe us, take it from Colin Firth, a great actor who hasn't won a single decent award in his life. There are no Oscars®, BAFTAs®, Golden Globes®, Emmys® or even MTV Movie Awards® on his mantelpiece. Not even for his latest effort, family fantasy Nanny McPhee.

"Names are important," said Firth recently. "It's a huge part of who you are. Colin is the sort of name you give your goldfish for a joke. I was watching an episode of Blackadder, and there was a dachshund called Colin, and just his name was supposed to reduce you to fits of laughter. It has the double disadvantage of being considered commonplace, dreary and banal and, at the same time, not common at all. So I have this commonplace, dreary, banal name, but there is nobody else to share my fate. There are very few Colins around."

We've had a poke around the acting community and dug up four current Colins besides Farrell and Firth. There's Colin Salmon, who you might recognise from the last few Bond movies, but then again, you might not. You'd think with a surname like that, his parents might have given him at least one decent name. It's like Ricky Gervais says in his new stand-up dvd, Politics. "If your surname is Dumpty, don't name your firstborn Humpty... he'll probably jump off the wall." A surname like Salmon needs a Brad or a Jeff in front of it. Not a Colin. Colin's the name of the sickly boy in The Secret Garden - surely no accident.

Elsewhere there's Colin Friels, probably the least known of all the acting Colins, but since he's married to the fabulous Judy Davis, let's not feel too sorry for him. There's Colin Baker, the worst of the Doctor Whos, currently in the wrong space and time for a successful career. And there's Colin Hanks, a lad who has to overcome the twin disabilities of living in his father Tom's shadow for the rest of his life and, as we've already established, having the name Colin. So far, the only film anyone can remember seeing him in is Orange County, but that was really Jack Black's movie. Colin lacks charisma as Colins often do. If Tom Hanks is the boy next door, a regular bloke but with that little something extra, his son is the boy next door to the boy next door. You never notice him.

There's never been a King Colin, a Pope Colin or a Prime Minister Colin. There's Colin Powell of course, the former US Secretary of State, but we're not sure he counts as a Colin because of the bizarre way he pronounces his name. It may read like Colin but it sounds like colon. Sometimes Conan. Neither of which are any better than Colin, but since neither of those names appear to be jinxed, he's allowed to be successful.

The only public field of endeavour immune to the Colin curse appears to be sport, as proven by hurdling superstar Colin Jackson, rally driver Colin McRae, golfer Colin Montgomerie and cricketer Colin Cowdry. We don't know why this is, but advise all Colins everywhere to quit their jobs and start playing tennis or football for a living.

Perhaps the strangest Colin of all is the last on our list, best-selling author Colin Forbes. He's written 31 books and made a nice few quid, even though his name is Colin. Or is it? Turns out his real name is Raymond Harold Sawkins. That's why he does so well. So now we know the curse doesn't apply to pseudonyms either, though why anyone would choose to call himself Colin is perhaps the greatest mystery of all.