ABOUT FIFTEEN YEARS ago, a female colleague and I were discussing the appeal of Tom Cruise. He was winding down his run of the most successful string of hits in the history of American film. My thoughts on his appeal tended to focus on the visceral: the thousand-watt smile, the laugh that was actually endearing in those days, the intensity and drive in his eyes, and how his body seemed to never sit still. He was also relentlessly competitive, and gave off an aura of fearlessness. There was something dangerous about him, and he had a charisma that was equally apparent to men and women.
