This actor, who belongs to one of Hollywood’s most famous dynasties, is a National Treasure but in his personal life, he’s trapped in a “quiet, horrible nightmare.”
The Family Man actor, who once bought a seat on a plane for his child’s imaginary friend, is now living in a “hostile environment” created by his son’s ex-wife, who’s preventing him from meeting his four-year-old twin granddaughters.
Keep reading to learn the identity of the star whose name change was inspired by a superhero!
When this actor was only 15, he was seated in a car with his uncle, one of Hollywood’s leading filmmakers, and begged him for a chance to appear in one of his award-winning films.
“Give me a screen test, I’ll show you acting. There was just silence in the car,” said the star, who’s proudly bizarre both on and off screen.
As a 17-year-old, the actor paved his own path to stardom and earned a minor role in the 1982 hit, Fast Times at Ridgemont High, a coming-of age cult favorite.
“I was the brunt of jokes because my name was still Coppola,” says Nicholas Cage, who was born in 1962 as Nicholas Kim Coppola.
“People would not stop saying things like, ‘I love the smell of Nicolas in the morning,’ because of Apocalypse Now…and it made it hard to work and I said, ‘I don’t need this,’ and changed it to Cage,” the star explains of dropping the surname that connected him to his famous relative, Francis Ford Coppola.
Next, explaining why he chose Cage, he says, “It’s a combination of Luke Cage from Marvel comics, who was a character I liked, also named Power Man, and John Cage, the avant-garde composer. Speaks volumes about everything I’ve been up to ever since.”
His first starring role with Cage as his last name came in 1983’s Valley Girl and the anonymity he said made him feel as if he “had this weight come off my body.”
“Wow, I really can do this. And I felt liberated by that experience,” he tells Hollywood Reporter. “And you can see it in Valley Girl that I’m free. Whereas in Fast Times, or even Rumble Fish, I’m somewhat stuck,” he says, referring to his appearance in 1983’s Rumble Fish, a film directed by his uncle.
Over the next several years, Cage worked in back-to-back films, earning the reputation as one of Hollywood’s most sought-after actors.
In 1988, he earned Golden Globe nominations for Moonstruck with Cher and Honeymoon in Vegas with Sarah Jessica Parker.
It was also the same year he met actor Christina Fulton, who in December 1990 gave birth to his first son, Weston Coppola Cage, an actor who appeared as the younger version of his dad in the 2014 film Rage.
Cage, who earned an Oscar for his 1995 role in Leaving Las Vegas, also shares a son Kal-El (Superman’s birth name) born in 2005 with his third wife Alice Kim, and daughter August Francesca (born 2022) with his fifth wife, Riko Shibata.
Cage was also famously married to Patricia Arquette (1995 to 2001) and Lisa Marie Presley (2002), whom he filed for divorce only months later.
Speaking with People, The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent actor says that family comes “first and foremost.”
“There’s no version of Nick Cage in reality that doesn’t want to spend time with his children…There’s no version of Nick Cage that didn’t put family first over career,” says the star of Raising Arizona.
He adds, “I turned down Lord of the Rings and I turned down Matrix because I didn’t want to go to New Zealand for three years or Australia for three years because I needed to be home with my son Weston, that’s a fact.”
Offering evidence to that, actor Minnie Driver once said: “Was once on a plane with [Nicholas Cage] and his son and a seat had also been purchased for his son’s imaginary friend.”
Weston Coppola Cage
To this day the Adaptation star has a very tight bond with his children, and two of his grandchildren, Lucian (born 2014) and Sorin (2016), who Weston shares with his second wife.
“He can do things I dream about doing…compose music, sing, act, sculpt and cook and now he is a loving father,” Cage said of Weston, the former lead of two heavy metal bands. “To see my son with my grandson is as close to a sense of blissful completion I ever had.”
The D-Day star, 33, has been married three times and also shares twin daughters, Cyress and Venice, who were born in 2020 with his third ex-wife, Hila Arounian.
But the kids don’t know any members of their famous Hollywood family.
Following an ugly divorce in 2021, TMZ reports that Hila was granted “sole legal and physical custody of their twin daughters…with Weston getting no visitation rights.”
Explaining the distressing details, Weston’s mom Christina tells the U.S. Sun, that Hila has created a “hostile environment,” which includes “a request for a restraining order against her seeing the kids that was dismissed” in 2023.
“As a classy, respectful Hollywood family we are appalled and shocked at how Hila could do something like this. It is devastating not to see these kids. Nicolas and I haven’t been able to meet our two beautiful little granddaughters at all since they were born,” Christina says of the “smear campaign” Hila launched against her family. “We’re in a quiet, horrible nightmare. It’s insane, painful, hurtful, devastating. I have a beautiful relationship with my two little boy grandchildren and my son has a beautiful relationship with his boys.”
Christina adds, “Not meeting the girls is painful, hurtful, and shocking.”
Defending herself, Hila shares a note on Facebook, explaining that her ex cheated several times and was “weaponizing influence, wealth,” turning “the legal system against” her.
She also calls Christina a “sabotaging mother” and referring to Weston’s mental illness along with addictions, she says that Cage is an “enabling father” who “consistently hindered his progress.”
Hila does not mention anything about denying the family visitation with the twins, only that Weston’s “behavior became a physical threat to our daughters and me, as well as our emotional well-being.”
Christina reveals the Cage/Coppola family isn’t backing down: “In these trying times, our family’s resilience is tested. But we remain committed to overcoming these challenges and restoring our family’s harmony.”
What do you think about this heartbreaking story? Please share your thoughts with us and then share this story so we can hear what others have to say!
My Husband Refused to Buy a New Washing Machine and Told Me to Wash Everything by Hand — Because He Promised His Mom a Vacation Instead
Six months postpartum, drowning in baby laundry, and exhausted beyond words, I thought my husband would understand when our washing machine broke. But instead of helping, he shrugged and said, “Just wash everything by hand—people did it for centuries.”
I never thought I’d spend this much time doing laundry.
A tired woman in a chair | Source: Pexels
Six months ago, I gave birth to our first baby. Since then, my life had turned into a never-ending cycle of feeding, changing diapers, cleaning, cooking, and washing. So much washing. Babies go through more clothes in a day than an entire football team.
On a good day, I washed at least eight pounds of tiny onesies, burp cloths, blankets, and bibs. On a bad day? Let’s just say I stopped counting.
A woman doing laundry | Source: Pexels
So when the washing machine broke, I knew I was in trouble.
I had just pulled out a soaking pile of clothes when it sputtered, let out a sad grinding noise, and died. I pressed the buttons. Nothing. I unplugged it, plugged it back in. Nothing.
My heart sank.
When Billy got home from work, I wasted no time.
A tired puzzled woman | Source: Pexels
“The washing machine is dead,” I said as soon as he stepped through the door. “We need a new one.”
Billy barely looked up from his phone. “Huh?”
“I said the washing machine broke. We need to replace it. Soon.”
He nodded absently, kicked off his shoes, and scrolled through his screen. “Yeah. Not this month.”
A man on his phone in his living room | Source: Pexels
I blinked. “What?”
“Not this month,” he repeated. “Maybe next month when I get my salary. Three weeks.”
I felt my stomach twist. “Billy, I can’t go three weeks without a washing machine. The baby’s clothes need to be cleaned properly every day.”
A couple having a serious talk | Source: Pexels
Billy sighed like I was asking for something unreasonable. He put his phone down and stretched his arms over his head. “Look, I already promised to pay for my mom’s vacation this month. She really deserves it.”
I stared at him. “Your mom’s vacation?”
“Yeah. She’s been babysitting for us. I thought it’d be nice to do something for her.”
Babysitting?
A shocked woman | Source: Pexels
I swallowed hard. His mother came over once a month. She sat on the couch, watched TV, ate the dinner I cooked, and took a nap while the baby slept. That wasn’t babysitting. That was visiting.
Billy kept talking like he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on me. “She said she needed a break, so I figured I’d cover her trip. It’s just for a few days.”
A man talking to his wife in his kitchen | Source: Pexels
I crossed my arms. “Billy, your mom doesn’t babysit. She comes over, eats, naps, and goes home.”
He frowned. “That’s not true.”
“Oh, really? When was the last time she changed a diaper?”
Billy opened his mouth, then shut it. “That’s not the point.”
I let out a sharp laugh. “Oh, I think it is.”
A couple arguing in their kitchen | Source: Pexels
He groaned, rubbing his face. “Look, can’t you just wash everything by hand for now? People used to do that for centuries. Nobody died from it.”
I stared at him, feeling my blood boil. Wash everything by hand. Like I wasn’t already drowning in work, exhausted, aching, and running on three hours of sleep a night.
An angry woman clutching her head | Source: Pexels
I took a slow, deep breath, my hands clenching into fists. I wanted to yell, to scream, to make him understand how unfair this was. But I knew Billy. Arguing wouldn’t change his mind.
I exhaled and looked at the pile of dirty clothes stacked by the door. Fine. If he wanted me to wash everything by hand, then that’s exactly what I’d do.
The first load wasn’t so bad.
A pile of clothes | Source: Pexels
I filled the bathtub with soapy water, dropped in the baby’s clothes, and started scrubbing. My arms ached, but I told myself it was temporary. Just a few weeks.
By the third load, my back was screaming. My fingers were raw. And I still had towels, bedsheets, and Billy’s work clothes waiting for me.
A tired woman sitting near a bathtub | Source: Midjourney
Every day was the same. Wake up, feed the baby, clean, cook, do laundry by hand, wring it out, hang it up. By the time I was done, my hands were swollen, my shoulders stiff, and my body exhausted.
Billy didn’t notice.
A bored man on a couch | Source: Pexels
He came home, kicked off his shoes, ate the dinner I cooked, and stretched out on the couch. I could barely hold a spoon, but he never once asked if I needed help. Never looked at my hands, red and cracked from hours of scrubbing.
One night, after I’d finished washing another pile of clothes, I collapsed onto the couch next to him. I winced as I rubbed my aching fingers.
Billy glanced at me. “What’s wrong with you?”
A tired woman on her couch | Source: Pexels
I stared at him. “What’s wrong with me?”
He shrugged. “You look tired.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “Gee, I wonder why.”
He didn’t even flinch. Just turned back to the TV. That was the moment something snapped inside me.
An annoyed woman in her kitchen | Source: Pexels
Billy wasn’t going to understand—not unless he felt the inconvenience himself. If he wanted me to live like a 19th-century housewife, then fine. He could live like a caveman.
So I planned my revenge.
The next morning, I packed his lunch as usual. Except instead of the big, hearty meal he expected, I filled his lunchbox with stones. Right on top, I placed a folded note.
A lunchbox filled with rocks | Source: Midjourney
Then I kissed his cheek and sent him off to work.
And I waited.
At exactly 12:30 PM, Billy stormed through the front door, red-faced and furious.
“What the hell have you done?!” he shouted, slamming his lunchbox onto the counter.
I turned from the sink, wiping my hands on a towel. “What do you mean, sweetheart?”
A laughing woman in her kitchen | Source: Midjourney
He flipped open the lid, revealing the pile of rocks. He grabbed the note and read it out loud.
“Men used to get food for their families themselves. Go hunt your meal, make fire with stones, and fry it.”
His face twisted in rage. “Are you out of your damn mind, Shirley? I had to open this in front of my coworkers!”
I crossed my arms. “Oh, so public humiliation is bad when it happens to you?”
A shouting man wearing glasses | Source: Pexels
Billy clenched his jaw. He looked like he wanted to yell, but for once, he didn’t have a comeback.
I crossed my arms and tilted my head. “Go on, Billy. Tell me how this is different.”
His jaw tightened. “Shirley, this is—this is just childish.”
I let out a sharp laugh. “Oh, I see. So your suffering is real, but mine is just me being childish?”
An angry woman lecturing her husband | Source: Pexels
He threw his hands in the air. “You could have just talked to me!”
I stepped forward, fire burning in my chest. “Talked to you? I did, Billy. I told you I couldn’t go three weeks without a washing machine. I told you I was exhausted. And you shrugged and told me to do it by hand. Like I was some woman from the 1800s!”
A woman turning away from her husband | Source: Pexels
His nostrils flared, but I could see the tiny flicker of guilt creeping in. He knew I was right.
I pointed at his lunchbox. “You thought I’d just take it, huh? That I’d wash and scrub and break my back while you sat on that couch every night without a care in the world?”
Billy looked away, rubbing the back of his neck.
A sad man clutching his head | Source: Pexels
I shook my head. “I’m not a servant, Billy. And I’m sure as hell not your mother.”
Silence. Then, finally, he muttered, “I get it.”
“Do you?” I asked.
He sighed, shoulders slumping. “Yeah. I do.”
A tired man rubbing his temples | Source: Pexels
I watched him for a long moment, letting his words settle. Then I turned back to the sink. “Good,” I said, rinsing off my hands. “Because I meant it, Billy. If you ever put your mother’s vacation over my basic needs again, you’d better learn how to start a fire with those rocks.”
Billy sulked for the rest of the evening.
An angry man in a hoodie | Source: Pexels
He barely touched his dinner. He didn’t turn on the TV. He sat on the couch, arms crossed, staring at the wall like it had personally betrayed him. Every now and then, he sighed loudly, like I was supposed to feel bad for him.
I didn’t.
For once, he was the one uncomfortable. He was the one who had to sit with the weight of his own choices. And I was perfectly fine letting him stew in it.
A woman reading a book on a couch | Source: Pexels
The next morning, something strange happened.
Billy’s alarm went off earlier than usual. Instead of hitting snooze five times, he actually got up. He got dressed quickly and left without a word.
I didn’t ask where he was going. I just waited.
That evening, when he came home, I heard it before I saw it—the unmistakable sound of a large box being dragged through the doorway.
A large box in the doorway | Source: Midjourney
I turned around and there it was. A brand-new washing machine.
Billy didn’t say anything. He just set it up, plugging in hoses, checking the settings. No complaints. No excuses. Just quiet determination.
When he finished, he finally looked up. His face was sheepish, his voice low.
“I get it now.”
A sorry man covering his face | Source: Pexels
I watched him for a moment, then nodded. “Good.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I, uh… should’ve listened to you sooner.”
“Yeah,” I said, crossing my arms. “You should have.”
He swallowed, nodded again, then grabbed his phone and walked away without argument or justification. Just acceptance. And honestly? That was enough.
A satisfied smiling woman | Source: Pexels
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