Well, if anyone would’ve told you that Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes were to divorce you’d… well, you wouldn’t be too surprised would you? It’s like putting eggs and bacon in a blender and telling people it’s breakfast; it’s just not going to work. Unless you’re a pug or a seagull, but they’re useless, seeing as they can’t read the tabloids.
Anyway, what looks like a civil divorce has turned into a nasty fandango of events, with tabloids claiming Katie couldn’t stand Scientology for much longer. And with what seems like thousands of photos that have cropped up recently of her grinning from ear to ear, it would be fair to say she’s quite happy to be away from it all. In all honesty, Tom Cruise never really convinced me. Not only in terms of his relationship with Holmes, but as a functioning, respirating, meat-and-two-veg human male. Nothing about him seems genuine, like he’s a potato that one day got up and decided it might try its hand at being a human. But a really rubbish one with a furrowed brow and three-inch legs.
Of course, when it comes down to it, there is a child in the middle of this equation, and as much fun as it is to laugh in the face of Cruise and dance in glee at Holmes’ admittance out of her cellophane box, Suri most probably doesn’t find it half as joyful. In recent reports, Suri has been described as a ‘weapon’, which has been used to rouse a series of recent divorce disputes. But with a dad like Cruise you’d probably be used to the words ‘weapon’, ‘machinery’ and ‘ak47’ discussed around the dinner table as he plans to go about his life like a Mission:Impossible film sequel (again), one in which he always gets to be the hero and everyone else is just the supporting cast. Imagining his family home frightens me. My mind can only conjure up images of Samurai swords in glass cases on walls, humble Scientology mandates stuck on the fridge, and about 865 television sets scattered about the house that will only play the clips of Tom in Top Gun on repeat, like a wind-up doll with severe ADD.
All you have to do is have a gander at all the photos the couple have racked up over the years, appearing like they’ve successfully manufactured all their captured poses and interactions from candle wax, and you’ll see just what a farce that marriage was. Probably one of the most poignant (and the most purile) one that sticks in my mind is the rigid kiss they shared at the New York City Premiere of “War of the Worlds” in 2005. You don’t have to be a psychologist to see how much Tom is fighting the urge to completely squeeze all the juice out of her neck with one stiff grip-ful, keeping her under strict orders to get the pose JUST. RIGHT. or else he’ll shorten her designated in-a-wardrobe crying time from eight minutes to six.
But maybe he isn’t all that bad. Maybe he’s just a confused guy, with a lot to offer the world. Perhaps he’s actually really sweet, selfless and laid-back. He might just be another celebrity whose stories have been eaten and sicked up to make him look like some psychopath who eats soap and rubs tarmac in his eyes before bed. Yes, we could all just be so hugely, mind-bogglingly, earth-shatteringly wrong that our outlook on his life, and our own lives, could change forever. What a euphoric realisation!
But we know we’re not wrong. We all saw him jump on that bloody sofa. He’ll always be a prat.
(Photo by Stephen Lovekin/Getty Images)
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