Hollywood dictates what kind of movie stars we're exposed to, but to a lesser extent, the movie stars dictate what kind of movies get made. For example, one of the reasons there were so many musicals in the 1940s was because of song-and-dance stars like Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers. If an Olympic shot putter ever became a movie star, we'd be besieged with movies about shot putting. The talent influences the content.
Why do you think we suddenly got two Zorro movies, decades after the character fell into obscurity? It's because of Antonio Banderas. When you've got a suave, bankable Latin action star, you bring back Zorro. It's just what you do.
Many actors specialize. Vincent Price was a talented actor with impressive range, but we particularly remember the roles in which he broods in a rain-swept castle, pining away over a portrait of his dead wife. He had an incredible knack for this kind of performance — nobody soliloquizes over lightning-illuminated oil paintings like Price. You'd never guess that the painting itself was still wet, having been freshly slapped together by the props department, and that it bore the likeness of an actress Price hadn't yet met. When this guy heaves a heavy sigh over poor Lenore, you feel it. That is the mark of a specialist.
Take rising young star Shia LaBeouf, for example. His specialty is looking up at the camera in utter terror, convinced that he's about to be killed by some CGI. That's what he does. He's very good at it. The CGI could be anything — a tidal wave, a giant robot, an apache combat helicopter; whatever it is, it's heading this way, and LaBeouf is crapping his pants over it. In fact, he looks so miserable and distraught, the CGI doesn't even look like it wants to kill LaBeouf half of the time. “Aw geez, look at that face. I can't go through with this,” thinks the gigantic monster (or landslide, or mass of army ants). Hollywood is currently making loads of movies in which rampaging CGI kills a ton of people, so Shia is likely to remain busy for awhile.
He's since diversified his output, but in the 1990s, Kevin Spacey specialized in the smug death scene. Check out Se7en (1995), L.A. Confidential (1997) and American Beauty (1999)... the guy had a unique way of dying onscreen that just screamed “The joke's on you, sucker!”
One field of specialization that tends to get overlooked due to its ubiquity is the hot babe who just stands around looking hot. Hollywood tends to go through actresses of this kind quickly. For example, we haven't heard much from Razzie-Award-winning actress Estella Warren lately. Warren came on the scene in 2001, amidst much media excitement. She apparently got her first three major film roles within months of moving to Los Angeles, flexing her mighty lips in Perfume (not the Dustin Hoffman one), Driven, Tangled and Tim Burton's Planet of the Apes all in the same year. Unfortunately, all of these movies sucked. Should we blame Warren? I don't see why. After all, she did what was expected of her. In Planet of the Apes, for example, her big emotional moment is when she's called upon to seethe with jealousy when Mark Wahlberg kisses an ape. Just look at the frustrated longing in her huge vacant eyes as she watches her beloved get to first base with a hairy, rubber-masked Helena Bonham Carter. At that moment, Estella's character really wants to fuck Marky-Mark right there in front of everybody, but she can't because he's frenching a chimpanzee! This is the emotional turning point for Warren's character, and it's the funniest scene in the whole damn movie. Sure, her performance was dreadful — but it was because the director told her to do something that was absolutely ridiculous and she listened. An older, more experienced actress would have laughed in Tim Burton's face rather than get all worked up over Mr. Manly McSpacesuit and the Kissing Link, but I guess when you're debuting under the tutelage of a legendary directory, you do as you’re told.
