This began as a so-so film for me, sort of light and easy to watch, until it reached the part where Tom Cruise takes up with the wealthy woman in New York and becomes a kept man. I gasped aloud in the theater, disturbing those around me. This brought back a flood of memories, let me tell you -- the way they think their wealth can dictate every facet of your life, they can tell you what to wear, they can control your entire schedule and boss you around. I fully recognized Tom's character's frustration, exhibited in a blaze of authentic kept-man acting (it was EXACTLY as I knew to behave, in those circumstances), the way he had to jump whenever she said "Froggy," and ask "How high?" while on the way up.
Tom's Brian Flanagan even managed the classic "gigolo face," that cocky spoiled-brat mask I remember so well in the mirror every morning, undercut by the knowledge that you're really little more than a temporary employee to a rich woman who will on a whim discard you like a band-aid removed from a festering armpit boil. Cruise's Brian coped well with the situation, until at last he was able to break away from the rich woman and pursue Elizabeth Shue again -- but the sad reality is, so many of us trapped in gigolo quicksand simply cannot extract ourselves that easily (and I suppose that's why we have Hollywood movies, for the escapism). I was very, very glad to see at least one man, though he be the fictional Brian, wrench himself out of the Kept Man status and resume a somewhat normal life with another rich girl. Speaking for all of my brothers in gigolo recovery, I praise this film for showing us that it just might be possible to break out of the luxurious, plush, golden-barred cages in which we stew not as men, but as kept men. Thank you Brian Flanagan, oh thank you.