There have previously been children whose birth attracted a certain amount of attention - Jesus Christ, Elizabeth Alexandra Mary Mountbatten-Windsor, Brooklyn Beckham - but the arrival on Tuesday of Suri Cruise set a new record for interest in an infant.
For weeks beforehand, global newspapers and phone-ins debated whether the mother, Katie Holmes, would or should remain silent during delivery, in line with Church of Scientology rules, before a brief diversion into the question of whether Tom Cruise intended to snack on the placenta afterwards, presumably in silence.
The facts, as far as they can be established, are that Ms Holmes was free to open her mouth during labour (although, if you believe the celebrity rags, chose not to) but that Mr Cruise's lips remained closed to the afterbirth. His reported comment about the nutritious umbilical dish was subsequently reported to have been a joke.
Even if this much-discussed parturition had not occurred in the same week as the 80th birthday of Elizabeth II, it might be tempting to suggest that the 24-hour baby-shower thrown by the media shows that movie stars have become the new royalty.
This, though, cannot be the full explanation. Numerous film names at least as famous as Cruise have reproduced - often with partners far starrier than Holmes - so it's not immediately obvious why the coming of Suri should be Hollywood's biggest-ever nativity story.
The first reason for the fuss is, frankly, prurience. Cruise's three previous opportunities to begin a Hollywood dynasty - through his relationships with Mimi Rogers, Nicole Kidman and Penelope Cruz - resulted in no births. And his adoption of two children led to speculation that he had imposed or suffered some kind of bar to fatherhood and that impregnating a woman was a mission improbable for him. The kindest of the tabloid rationalisations was that Top Gun was firing blanks. Now that his fourth major relationship with an actress has reportedly produced progeny, this line of gossip should die.
Even so, much of the interest in little Suri results from her general unlikeliness. The Cruise-Holmes coupling has some claim to be the ultimate celebrity relationship because many observers dismissed it from the beginning as a stunt, bringing joint publicity benefits to Cruise and Holmes, whose relationship began while they were promoting respectively War of the Worlds and Batman Begins. Even in an age of dedicated cynicism, it was surprising how widely this theory was believed. But those who insisted that the relationship was a spin-courtship would now have to allege that Suri is a spin-kid.
But what drives the curiosity is that Cruise himself is such a curious character. In cinema history, the big box office draws have tended to represent either normality (Cary Grant, Tom Hanks) or extremity (Marlon Brando, Jack Nicholson): on-screen types have divided fairly easily between boy next door and madman in the attic. Cruise, however, complicates the issue because he has regular looks and teeth but a personality that consistently suggests peculiarity. Oddly, the leading American movie actor who comes closest to the same combination is a fellow Scientologist, John Travolta.
But, while Travolta is guarded about his religion in interviews and public appearances (although his beliefs led to his worst movie, a version of L Ron Hubbard's Battleship Earth), Cruise is happy to proselytise on talkshows, creating media firestorms of Scientology-related coverage, which then need to be dampened by clarifying press releases. He seemingly finds it impossible to promote a movie without declaring that post-natal depression is a myth, or to reveal that he has a new girlfriend without cartwheeling around Oprah Winfrey's sofa.
Some of the feeling that Cruise is not the full dollar comes from his membership of Scientology, a faith that manages, even in a nation as respectful of religion as George Bush's America, to seem outside the mainstream.
But, even without that affiliation, there is a sense of inner chaos in Cruise which belies his screen image. Whereas the traditional movie mavericks - the Nicholsons and Brandos - established their wildness by testing sexual and narcotic limits, Cruise has the strange ability to inject edginess and drama into quite conventional acts: signing an autograph, getting a girlfriend, and now having a child. The fascination with his behaviour comes from a perception that what you see isn't what you get.
Though he may prove to be a good father, it's hard not to think: poor kid. A better name for Suri might have been, with deference to Cruise's two adopted children, Mission Impossible III, which has the advantage not only of reflecting the tricky opening hand the child has been dealt by having a father who is both a celebrity and a Scientologist, but also conveniently promoting Dad's latest movie.
When Princess Elizabeth Alexandra Mary was born 80 years ago today, the home secretary visited the house, an old political convention intended to prevent gossip about the circumstances of the birth. Suri Cruise has been subject to so much rumour before and after her arrival that it seems time for a similar official to attend celebrity deliveries. However the child's life turns out, it has had a beginning strange even by the standards of Hollywood.
