Tom Cruise vs. Time

"Hey Kelly, is it just me, or does this script kind of suck?"

Hollywood has always had its leading men, and for the most part, treated them more kindly than its leading ladies. Even old-school action stars like John Wayne, Steve McQueen, and Clint Eastwood were allowed to dispense screen violence, and continue to collect big paychecks, well into their dotage. Today, Sylvester Stallone, like the shrewd businessman he’s always been, even if you still haven’t forgiven him for putting the formerly complex and beautifully drawn character of Rocky Balboa at the service of cold war propaganda in Rocky IV, has built a franchise out of re-upping his geriatric industry pals for one more tour of cartoon violence in the Expendables series. Rightly, Tom Cruise belongs to the 80’s generation of action heroes that the Expendables relies on for its nostalgia appeal. But like the shrewd businessman that he’s always been, in spite of being crazy as a shithouse rat, Tom knows that he’s just too damned pretty to wear grizzled well. Tom Cruise can not go gently into the good night of the aging star, because he represents the rusting vanguard of the feminization of leading men. No one ever accused Stallone, or Willis, or Lundgren of being pretty. Handsome, and sexy, yes. Pretty, no. Maybe Van Damme, but he was a legitimate martial arts champion, before becoming a movie star, and what could be more affirming of a star’s masculinity than that? But Tom can’t age. Aging doesn't work for his brand. And so he’s stuck playing his character in Top Gun forever. Which is boring as hell to watch, and artistically ruinous to every movie he’s in.

 

Watching his latest, Oblivion, the kind of tribute to cerebral, 70’s sci-fi that big ‘ol geeks like me eat up with a spoon, I couldn't get around the feeling that even Tom Cruise is sick of being Tom Cruise.  You can almost hear him thinking, “Oh wow, another green screen.  Awesome.  Soooo . . . what am I shooting at here?  Never mind, I’ll read the script later.  Just start rolling.”  Casting him took the sci-fi element away from the screenplay, and imparted it to the lead, making a new hybrid product that could have been titled Tom Cruise vs. Oblivion.  Oblivion ended up being about, as far as I can tell, how long he can keep this up.  How long can a rarefied, macrobiotic diet (I know nothing about what Tom eats, but I’m betting its something freaky), 2-4 hours a day in the home gym, and the best plastic surgeons whose silence money can buy, keep this man looking a perpetual 35 years of age?  And why does a guy with serious acting chops (see Magnolia), and more money than most former Eastern Bloc countries, need this shit anyway, since he’s so obviously over it?  Why doesn't he go do some acting?  What does he have left to prove?  Maybe a tour of duty with Stallone and company would be such a refreshing blast for him, that he’d manage to find an easier laugh that isn't quite so rife with Scientology madness.

"Kill me now."

But I suspect (and again, I don’t know Tom personally, so I’m only guessing here), that what we’re witnessing is just one manifestation of the same pathological tendencies that have led an obviously bright and talented fella, into being the principal spokesmodel for a space alien cult.  Like a lot of people who voraciously seek fame, Tom is a deeply wounded cat.  That’s what makes him such a fascinating actor, on the increasingly rare occasion that he chooses to work out that muscle.  It seems as if his ego and sense of self is so tied up in being Tom Cruise, eternally youthful action hero, that he can’t quite imagine what a second act would look like, much less a third.  And so he’s doomed to do this Dorian Gray thing, while locked away in a vault somewhere there’s a copy of Risky Business in which a haggard man in his 50’s does a jig in his underwear to “Old Time Rock and Roll”.  As you can probably tell, I feel sorry for him.  I hope he makes his peace with the forces of nature, and starts taking roles and projects worthy of his talents.  And Tom, on the off chance that you read this; seriously dude, you need to look into what goes on at Gold Base when they don’t have a celebrity poking around.  Maybe check some of the Mission Impossible climbing gear out of the studio locker, scale the wall, and find out for yourself if the rumors are true.  ‘Cause I’m pretty sure they are.  Just imagine the bidding war on the film in which you play yourself, Tom Cruise, action star, and cult victim, blowing the lid off the whole dirty business.  Shit, even I’d pay to see you in that.  Just a thought.