There's a great, longish piece by Amy Nicholson on how the Internet has made us misremember Tom Cruise's couch-jumping misadventure with Oprah and the impact this has had on his career. You should read the whole thing; I just wanted to briefly highlight this:
Building up to 2005, Cruise had tackled some of the most challenging dramas of any actor of his generation: Eyes Wide Shut, Magnolia, Vanilla Sky. Even his popcorn flicks — Minority Report,Collateral, War of the Worlds — were intriguingly dark. He'd never played it safe or shot a cash-grab. He trusted that if he chose movies he believed in, the audience would follow. And he was right.
Post-2005, we've lost out on the audacious films that only Hollywood's most powerful and consistent star could have convinced studios to greenlight. Cruise was in his mid-40s prime — the same years when Newman made Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid and The Sting — and here he was lying low, like the kid who'd run away to London. Imagine the daring roles that he hasn't dared to pursue. Cruise's talent and clout were responsible for an unparalleled string of critical and commercial hits. We gave that up for a gif. [Emphasis mine]
I desperately wanted to quibble with this ... and found that I couldn't. I guess I could take issue with the word "actor" in that first sentence. "Star" would probably be a better word. Not because Cruise isn't an actor, mind you, but because there are probably other actors with a lower profile who were doing similarly intriguing work. Philip Seymour Hoffman, for instance.
Anyway, Nicholson has written a really good piece, one that glimpses not only how our media landscape has changed, but how rapidly and at how high a cost. As an aside, she has a book about Cruise coming out in July: Tom Cruise: Anatomy of an Actor. If it's half as entertaining as this piece it'll be worth your hard-earned dollars.