Billy Bob Thornton and Angelina Jolie were the ultimate odd couple of early 2000s Hollywood – a gritty Oscar-winning screenwriter from Arkansas and the ethereal humanitarian bombshell with a penchant for knives and blood vials. Their whirlwind romance, sparked on the set of 1999’s Pushing Tin, culminated in a surprise Las Vegas wedding in 2000 that had tabloids in a frenzy. But by 2003, after just three years of eccentric bliss, they called it quits. Fast-forward to November 2025, and Thornton, 70 and thriving as the oil-rig patriarch on Taylor Sheridan’s Landman, is finally peeling back the curtain on why it ended – and spoiler: It’s not the drama, the age gap, or those infamous necklaces. It’s something far simpler, and far more human.

In a candid chat with Rolling Stone published November 17, Thornton reflected on his six marriages (Jolie was wife No. 5) with the self-deprecating wit that’s defined his career from Sling Blade to Fargo. “Angelina and I had a great time together,” he said, his voice warm with zero bitterness. “That was one of the greatest times of my life. She and I are still very, very close friends.” The split, he clarified, was “really civilized” – no messy custody battles or public mud-slinging. So, what cracked the fairy tale? Differing lifestyles, plain and simple. “Hers is a global lifestyle, and mine is an agoraphobic lifestyle,” Thornton explained with a chuckle. “So, that’s really – that’s the only reason we’re probably not still together, maybe, because of a different path in life we wanted to take.”

It’s a revelation that humanizes the duo beyond the headlines. Jolie, then 25 when they wed, was already jet-setting for UN refugee work, her humanitarian fire burning brighter with every mission. Thornton, pushing 50, preferred the quiet rhythm of home – writing scripts in sweatpants, far from the red-carpet glare. “We just had different lifestyles,” he reiterated on the HFPA in Conversation podcast back in 2018, a sentiment that echoes today. No acrimony, no scandals – just two souls diverging on the map of maturity. Thornton, now happily hitched to Connie Angland since 2014 (with daughter Bella, 20, in tow), joked about his track record: “At least I was trying.” Jolie, 50 and navigating her own post-Brad Pitt chapter with six kids and a Malibu wine war, has echoed the goodwill, calling their time “romantic” in a 2025 Santa Barbara Film Festival chat.

Their story’s quirks – like the blood-vial lockets they wore as “romantic gestures” (debunked as vampire myths by the press) – still spark giggles. “A lot of the things they said about us at the time were exaggerated,” Thornton told Rolling Stone. “It wasn’t as crazy as people wrote about it.” He clarified the lockets held “a drop of blood” each – a quirky nod to eternal bond, not gothic horror. “By the time it’s over, we’re vampires. We live in a dungeon, we drink each other’s blood,” he laughed. Jolie, in her 2025 reflection, added: “Some people walk through life able to quiet the voices in their heads. Billy was one of them – and he helped me find my quiet too.”

Thornton’s candor arrives amid his Landman hot streak – the Paramount+ series has him channeling rugged everyman vibes opposite Ali Wong and Demi Moore – and Jolie’s quiet empire-building post-Maria biopic. Their divorce, finalized amicably in 2003, left no scorched earth: No kids, no custody wars, just mutual respect. “We never hated each other,” Thornton said. “It was no big deal.” Jolie, chatting with ex Jonny Lee Miller at the same festival, mirrored: “Billy was a great person… We laugh about the wild days now.”

In a town of toxic exes and tell-all telltales, Thornton and Jolie’s postscript is refreshingly real: Two icons who loved fiercely, parted gracefully, and still root for each other from afar. As Thornton wraps Landman Season 2, he summed it up: “Life’s too short for grudges. Angie’s killing it – always has.” Jolie, prepping Maleficent 3, might say the same. Their split wasn’t a scandal; it was a signpost – proof that even Hollywood heartthrobs can choose peace over plot twists.

Twenty-two years on, the reason behind the end feels like the start of something wiser: Not every great time needs a sequel. Sometimes, the best love stories let you walk away – hand in hand with the memories, and zero regrets.