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No one knows how it started, but everyone remembers when it exploded: on May 23, 2005, Thomas Mapother IV, known around the world as Tom Cruise, sat on the couch of the world’s most famous presenter Oprah Winfrey. Jumped on, apparently crazy young actress Katie Holmes for happiness and passion. This moment represents a turning point in the collective consciousness, the Hollywood microcosm equivalent of the Challenger explosion or 9/11. But there were no real victims here. Tom Cruise did not die that day. The actor’s image died in the world based on an image as American as the “Stars and Stripes” flag flying over a lawn, embodying a benevolent individualism and a healthy ego smile, based on an irresistible charisma.
Yes, there were long-running rumors about her sexual orientation, alleged impotence and/or sterility, and her devotion to Scientology (the religion founded by the eccentric L. Ron Hubbard), but Cruise’s juggling of energy quelled those rumors. crushed. The lights went out in the theatre, and his eternally young face lit up on the screen. For the millions of viewers who made Cruise one of the most low-risk ventures in film history, these conversations only served to color the legend. There was really nothing serious about the actor’s behavior to threaten his position. Plus, which Hollywood star hasn’t had to go through the rumour-denial-new rumour-new denial ritual? It was an almost natural sound of celebrity gear running.
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