CAMILLA TOMINEY Mission impossible: a happy marriage?
ASCIENTOLOGIST once did some painting and decorating at my house. I didn’t know he was one until he revealed how the “religion” had saved him from a spiral of drink and drugs as he was rolling Natural Hessian on to my living room walls. Despite managing to resist several attempts to get me down to the local Scientology centre, I now fear I may have been subconsciously brainwashed by my dodgy decorator, for I find myself siding with Tom, not Kat, following their recent split.
I know it makes less sense than anything L Ron Hubbard ever wrote but I can’t help but sympathise with Cruise in all this.
While he’s maintained a dignified silence, his soon-to-be ex-wife has been putting on the performance of her life, coyly telling reporters at supermarkets she’s “all right” in between taking their daughter Suri out on seemingly endless ice-cream runs.
I thought her wise-beyond-her-years character Joey in Dawson’s Creek was nauseating, but this is taking “woe-isme” to a whole new level.
After all, it’s not as if she didn’t know what she was getting herself into, is it?
The whole world knows Cruise is a bit of a weirdo, so what’s her excuse?
Even people who have never met the bloke could tell you he was a workaholic control freak suffering from small man syndrome with an unhealthy devotion to a religion based on the theory that humans are descended from aliens.
Because she is 17 years younger than Cruise, Holmes has been able to play the “little girl lost” card, but by breaking out her high heels within minutes of breaking up with the diminutive star, she proves that she too has learned what it means to be in Cruise Control.
She was 27 when she married him, which is old enough to have known better, in my book. Perhaps she thought it was going to give her career a boost but was too naïve to realise that even in the 21st century, when you marry someone more famous than you, you are only ever going to be known as his wife. Apparently Holmes recently objected to being referred to as Mrs Tom Cruise in a magazine interview, yet I don’t remember her complaining if it opened doors in Hollywood.
Then there’s Scientology which, while highly dubious, is no better nor worse than any other religions, by my reckoning. Women being expected to remain silent during childbirth has been listed among many of its dodgy doctrines but surely this is preferable to them being banned from having abortions or being made to wear burkas?
Let us not forget that Holmes, a Roman Catholic, willingly signed up to all this by agreeing not only to marry Cruise but at a ceremony officiated by his best friend David Miscavige, the ecclesiastical leader of Scientology.
While I respect her for wanting to protect her daughter from what appear to be questionable teaching practices, she must have known what Suri would be in for having observed both of Cruise’s adopted children being home-schooled, Scientology-style, by his sister.
Perhaps, like his fans, Holmes confused the man she married with the man in the movies. Apparently she had a poster of him on her bedroom wall. Maybe she thought he could actually fly fighter jets, save the world from aliens and scale the world’s tallest building with his bare hands.
Or maybe she was even more deluded and thought she could change him.
The irony is that despite his action man status, what has made Cruise compelling to watch all these years is that behind the Ray Bans and leather jackets, we know he is as deeply flawed as the rest of us. We’ve all heard the rumours, seen the Cuban heels and watched him jumping up and down on Oprah’s sofa, after all.
No one knows what goes on behind closed doors but Hollywood was built on the old adage that there are two sides to every story. WHILE I have huge sympathy for the teacher who was left paralysed after breaking his neck throwing a Wellington boot, surely it was just a freak accident?
Glennroy Blair-Ford, 45, is now suing an adventure centre for £5million for failing to warn him of the dangers of “welly wanging”.
He was with a group of pupils from Wilmington Enterprise College, Dartford, Kent, when he was asked to take part in a game which involved teachers throwing wellies backwards through their legs. When he swung his boot, Mr Blair-Ford was propelled headfirst to the ground.
While no one would wish this kind of life-changing injury on anyone, if Mr Blair-Ford didn’t foresee it happening, why should anyone else have?
Health and safety litigation like this only serves to line lawyers’ pockets while discouraging people from taking responsibility for their actions. This tragic case shouldn’t even make it to court. THE OLD adage all publicity is good publicity must apply to British Airways’s latest advertising campaign, which is encouraging people NOT to fly off on holiday this summer. “Don’t fly, support Team GB,” begs the airline on billboards across London. If they are able to charge £52,000 for a one-way flight back from California for the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge and their seven-strong entourage perhaps they can afford to turn business away. DESPITE not being particularly lovey-dovey I am forever signing emails off with X for kiss. I also have an irritating habit of calling people “darling” which is a bit over familiar, particularly when they’re only ringing up to sell you double glazing. A recent study has found that 44 per cent of workers find receiving virtual kisses from colleagues “awkward”. According to etiquette experts, you should only put a kiss if you would kiss the recipient in real life. On the cheek or on the lips, I wonder?