After more than a quarter century in the movie business, Nicolas Cage is talking about getting out. “Some movie stars look like they are having a ball, but but I’m tired of it. It has made me reclusive. That is an increasingly gnawing feeling in my body,” he says. Aside from the bitter lack of fulfillment brought on by a career that has made him roughly a kazillion dollars, Cage also suspects that some moviegoers can’t stand him: “For some reason, I piss off the audience. People who like me in one type of film don’t like to see me in another.”

Oh, come on. Nicolas Cage has made between fifty and sixty films. A couple of them were quite good, maybe six more were watchable, and the rest were things like Ghost Rider and The Wicker Man–two-hour visits to Suckville. The guy owns a castle in Germany, another castle in Ireland, has a son who looks like The Return of Ozzie Osbourne and another son, Kal-El, that wasn’t even named after a Superman character. (Nicolas named him after his dog.) If Cage isn’t satisfied with the fruits of his career, then he’s always welcome to move on. In fact, it might take a few years before people notice he’s missing.