Every emotion in Nicolas Cage’s range can be hyperlinked to its relevant 10-20 second long YouTube clip. Eg. "Fear" (the "Who burned the toast?’" scene from The Wicker Man), "Despair" (the crying scene from Vampire’s Kiss) "Delight" (the ‘Hallelujah’ opening from Face Off), "Anxiety"(the pharmacy scene from Matchstick Men)...you definitely have time to watch them all.

Most compelling is the mashup entitled '"Nic Cage Losing His Shit;" a staggering medley of melodrama set to the unsettling Requiem for a Dream theme. It's a humbling viewing experience you emerge from feeling somewhat repressed.

What these editing endeavours reveal is Cage's idiosyncratically manic acting technique. He does not so much gently convey emotions as pummel them to pulp.

Indeed, Cage is responsible for the coining of the term "mega-acting"; a sublime form of over-acting that goes above and beyond the reasonable call of duty by any director, screenplay or test-audience, Werner Herzog-inclusive. The actor trumpets this method indifferently between the likes of National Treasure and Bad Lieutenant, demonstrating a notable dearth of snobbery. Or just density?

Perhaps, though, part of Cage's appeal to his sophisticated fan-base is that he appears at times to be sabotaging his own films, suggesting an ironic awareness. This places him in cahoots with the viewer rather than anyone else involved in whichever gaudy production he’s been seemingly bribed to partake in. Who watched Bangkok Dangerous?
Yet off screen Cage comes across as impressively deluded. Interviews with him tend to glean bewildering openings such as; "Not to compare myself to someone like Francis Bacon, but just as a point of explanation...". He's gone so far as to refer to his acting style as "Nouveau Shamanic", presumably the antidote to the more old school "Shamanic" we've grown tiresomely accustomed to. "That’s the new style of acting," he says, "at some point I’ll have to write a book.” Have to. Fear not, posterity.

Still, both are films the aesthete would watch, just in varying degrees of drunkenness. Have you been invited to a "Cage Night" yet? An evening of sneering, snickering and genuine awe at some of Cage's more underrated films? Well, if you haven't, grab a copy of Ghost Rider (or Deadfall if you’re feeling brave) some pals, some G&Ts in cans and let Cage estrange you from all your stuffy notions of subtlety, ruse and realism.