Creative suicide? That's creative

Of all the lies and dramatic posturing being lobbed between Tom Cruise's defenders and the studio that just broke its ties with the superstar, Viacom/Paramount boss Sumner Redstone's assertion that "we don't think someone who effectuates creative suicide and costs the company revenue should be on the lot" is probably the dumbest statement made by anyone who's supposed to be in the creativity business.
The first half of it, anyway. I have no doubt that Cruise's overbearing offscreen behavior of the past year or so has cost Paramount some ticket sales. Women, his most avid fanbase for a couple of decades, have been turned off in droves by - well, the four or five televised outbursts that I had a good time laughing at like everybody else, but am utterly bored with whenever they're referenced now.
But that's fiscal damage, not creative suicide. And whatever you think of Cruise personally - control freak, religious fanatic, the guy who's holding poor little Katie hostage, whatever - the only reason anybody cares about him in the first place is because a lot of us enjoy his work. And the last time I checked, he wasn't slacking on his fierce commitment to deliver the best work that he possibly could.
Mission: Impossible III, his "disappointing" summer blockbuster that triggered the rift with Paramount, was far from a perfect movie. But it was an interesting, ambitious take on the action espionage genre, like both previous installments Cruise starred in and produced. Writer-director JJ Abrams - whom Cruise chose after a long and painstaking development cycle - brought a new intimacy to the franchise that depended as much on good acting as it did pyrotechnics. And Cruise both delivered on the added, anguished thespic demands and gave a plot-hauling star turn, as well as expertly pulling off some death-defying stunts most stars would leave to their doubles.
You may or may not have liked this approach to the franchise, but you can't say that MI:3 was just another lazy sequel. There is never anything slack about a Cruise performance, whether he's stretching his abilities in daring new directions (Collateral, Magnolia, Jerry Maguire), letting great directors do whatever they will with him to fulfill their vision (Spielberg most successfully in Minority Report, Kubrick in Eyes Wide Shut, Stone in Born on the Fourth of July), or channeling his charisma and energy into saving grace notes for misbegotten efforts (Last Samurai, Vanilla Sky).
To me, that's all that really matters about Tom Cruise, and why I'll still look forward to every movie he makes - unless the movies give me reasons not to. I'm sure I'll also enjoy making fun of any megalomaniacal outbursts that come from him in the future, and will share wicked laughs with friends over the embarrassing rumors yet to be cooked up about him - until they become as tedious as the current overworked crop, anyway.
But jeez, shouldn't good movies be the primary thing fans, studios and stars want? I know that sounds simplistic and, in today's irrational pop culture, utterly unrealistic. But that doesn't make it wrong. And it makes a star with the creative vitality of Tom Cruise an even more valuable asset.