I should’ve seen this coming. I did see this coming. This isn’t local news but it is a matter of national concern: The gossip mill is abuzz with the rumor that Tom Cruise is determined—hold on a second, I need another moment for my stomach to settle—to remake Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. With John Travolta as Butch Cassidy (insert punchline here). And Tom as Sundance.

Listen, I’ve given Tom a hard time for his couch-jumping-that-dare-not-speak-its-name craziness. But make no mistake: I know the guy is a genuine movie star. Deservedly. He’s just not half the man that Paul Newman was.

Tom Cruise is more like Mowgli in Disney’s The Jungle Book: a likable man cub always surrounded by characters with far more interesting voices. It was sort of touching how hard he tried to be commanding in the Nazi-gone-good film Valkyrie up against all those brilliant British actors. Even Tom was touched—he teared up more than any Nazi you’ve ever seen (particularly in the presence of the beautiful young Aryan who followed him slavishly unto death…).

Yes, I wish someone besides Cameron Crowe—big Jerry Maguire fan here, no apologies—could figure out how to tell Tom that he should only clench his jaw in torment once per film. He can pick the moment. But he only gets one.

Yet Tom can hold the screen. And the man is a genius at jumping away from and/or outrunning fire. Explosions, particularly. I’m dead serious—start an inferno and Tom Cruise convincingly gets out of the way. Better than Olivier could, I’d wager. Although I don’t think Olivier ever appeared opposite anything going down in flames. Unless you count Neil Diamond in The Jazz Singer.

But, please, let’s do whatever we can to stop this Sundance debacle from ever seeing the light of day. Times are hard enough.

Just had to get that off my chest.