Entertainment

King of Queens star Leah Remini claims Tom Cruise tried to squash Scientology report

In the lead up to her own Scientology docu-series going to air in the US, King of Queens star Leah Remini has claimed she was pressured at Tom Cruise's behest to use her influence at CBS to stop a 60 Minutes report going to air during her time in the religion.

It was not the only time her career came under pressure over Cruise, with the sitcom star being asked to have a reference to Katie Holmes, then-wife of Cruise, removed from the show, according to her interview with The Hollywood Reporter.

Up Next

Did the Simpsons predict Trump's Wall?

null
Video duration
00:53

More Entertainment News Videos

Entertainment news highlights

The Today show's Aussiest interview ever, Kanye rants and leaves, it's music award season with the ARIAs and the AMAs and a new posthumous song from Prince.

Remini told THR that Cruise was a large part of the problem with Scientology, saying that she was never a fan of his status within the cult church and he was largely responsible for the growing exodus from the religion.

"Especially when [church leader] David Miscavige stood up in front of a Scientology event and said that Tom was 'the best example of a Scientologist'. And I know the heartbreak of the average person who works day and night to pay a quarter-of-a-million dollars for their 'religious freedom' in Scientology. Those people were the example – not somebody who makes $US10 million to $US20 million a picture.

"I don't think he normalised [Scientology] at all. I think it's just the opposite," she added.

But her most uncomfortable moment, involving the Hollywood superstar, came when Cruise was on the phone to her when she was pressured by the church to call CBS Corporations' president and CEO Les Moonves to get a 60 Minutes report on Scientology pulled.

Advertisement

"So I called Les Moonves, even though I was really uncomfortable with it. And he said, 'Listen – you're not the only one who has called me about this and I have no right to interject my opinion of what I like or don't like with the news organisation of CBS and I will absolutely not engage this conversation. I'll tell you or anyone else who calls me'. He said, 'I don't give a shit if it's you, if it's Tom Cruise, if it's Jenna Elfman, you're all going to get the same story from me'. And I said, 'OK'. And then I called them back and said, 'Hey, I tried'," she told THR.

"They just weren't happy that I couldn't squash the story. I said, 'I'm just a f---ing actress on television and I can't demand that my boss take a f---ing report off the air'."

The Church of Scientology has denied Remini's claims, saying she was only "in it for the money ... [and] exploit their former religion to make a buck".

Leah Remini: Scientology and the Aftermath review

For decades, Scientology was known as a mysterious religion popular with Hollywood A-listers, including Tom Cruise and John Travolta. But in recent years the church, founded by science fiction writer L. Ron Hubbard, has spawned a cottage industry of journalistic exposes and jaw-dropping memoirs in which former devotees allege abusive, cult-like behaviour and outlandish beliefs.

At this point, Scientology is as much an active religion as it is fodder for the various juicy tell-alls that have familiarised readers of People magazine with once-obscure concepts like Operating Thetans and the Bridge to Total Freedom.

The latest entry in this flourishing sub-genre is Leah Remini: Scientology and the Aftermath. Premiering Tuesday on US cable channel A&E;, the eight-part docu-series follows actress and former Scientologist Leah Remini as she meets with other church defectors and listens to their often-harrowing stories.

It arrives on the heels of Alex Gibney's HBO documentary Going Clear, which was based on New Yorker staff writer Lawrence Wright's meticulously researched book of the same name and is a companion piece of sorts to Remini's memoir, Troublemaker: Surviving Hollywood and Scientology, released last year.

While the single episode made available to critics covers little new ground and employs an unsophisticated documentary style, its focus on Scientology's toll on families is an effective strategy that will likely resonate with many viewers.

Remini, who starred for nine seasons on the popular Kevin James sitcom The King of Queens, was once one of Scientology's most enthusiastic proponents but has become one of its highest-profile celebrity defectors. (She is also an executive producer on Scientology and the Aftermath.)

The first episode opens with an abbreviated recap of Remini's involvement in the church, which she joined as a child and provided a support network for her mother following a painful divorce. As Remini's career thrived, she became, as she puts it, a "thought leader" in the organisation.

With clips of Remini making hyperbolic claims about the power of Scientology – "we are the most ethical group you're ever going to find," she gushes in a 1999 interview – the series is frank about her role in promoting and defending the church.

All of which lends greater heft to Remini's eventual denunciation. Her disillusionment began in 2006 at Cruise's wedding to Katie Holmes, where Remini was rebuked for inquiring as to the whereabouts of Shelly Miscavige, wife of church leader David Miscavige. After she and her family were submitted to expensive interrogations, she publicly broke with Scientology in 2013.

The premiere episode focuses on the church's harsh treatment of apostates like Remini and its policy of "disconnection" – shunning friends and family members who've left the organisation.

It tells the story of former executive Amy Scobee, who joined Sea Org, the church's quasi-military religious order, as a teenager and for decades barely had any contact with her father. She ascended the ranks and eventually ran the Celebrity Centre, where, among other tasks, she was responsible for making sure everyone around Cruise was a Scientologist.

Scobee walked away from Scientology in 2005, forcing her mother, a still-devout parishioner, to disconnect. Her painful experiences are echoed by Mike Rinder, former spokesperson for the church, who says his greatest regret is introducing his estranged children to Scientology.

Scientology and the Aftermath takes a human-interest approach to its subject, barely delving into the origins of the religion or its more bizarre teachings (e.g. Xenu, the prehistoric space tyrant spoofed in a 2005 episode of South Park). It's aimed at relative newcomers, using graphics to define lingo like "suppressive person."

This series is a strictly basic-cable affair that relies on some regrettable reality-TV conventions. There are hokey re-creations, lots of generic stock footage, an interview with Remini that has the look and feel of a Real Housewives confessional and superfluous montages highlighting the drama in episodes ahead.

The show is also punctuated with a truly ridiculous number of disclaimers and directs viewers to a Scientology website that issues strenuous denials regarding allegations.

As the church surely knows firsthand, Remini is an effective ambassador for her cause.

Though she moved from Brooklyn to Los Angeles as a teenager, she still has the sassy, straight-talking demeanour of an outer-borough New Yorker.

She comes off as authentic, even if Scientology and the Aftermath can also seem self-serving. (Her name is in the title, after all.) Remini may have paid a price for speaking out, but leaving the church has also undeniably boosted her visibility. And however well-intentioned Remini seems to be, there's something a tad ironic about an investigation of a celebrity-driven cult that plays like a star vehicle.

-  Meredith Blake, Los Angeles Times

Advertisement