I've always found that the heterosexual male reaction to actors who continually set the ladies' hearts a-fluttering (and not just their hearts, I hear) falls into two categories. Either the "Yeah, he seems like a good bloke and I suppose I can see why you'd call him good-looking, not that I'm gay or anything" group or the "Just because you like the way his tight white pants fit in No Way Out doesn't mean I can forgive him for Waterworld or The Postman, and I still think he looks like a rodent" group.
The likeable Mr. Darcy, sorry, Firth clearly fits the first group. But so too, when I first devised this scientifically tested distinction in the 1980s, did Mel Gibson, who has subsequently imploded in every possible category of life. On the other hand, founder member of the despised second group, Kevin Costner, stepped up to try to clean the Gulf after the Deepwater Horizon spill. So be careful, Colin. That's all I'm saying.
And Costner was very, very good in Clint Eastwood's A Perfect World. Mind you, after The Bodyguard and that bloody song, anything would be an improvement. My song "Once Bitten," from the show of the same name, is brilliant. People left the theater singing it.