8 Million Stories: Home, Movie
Its October 1994, and Eric Roberts likes me. A lot. Were having a great conversation. Thats particularly pleasant since things got off to a bad start. I had to tell Roberts that Miramax had decided that they wouldnt be releasing The Nature of the Beast to theaters. It would be going direct to video. Thats bad news for Mr. Roberts. Hes really proud of this film that hes made with director Victor Salva.
Lets assumeas I later willthat Roberts doesnt know that The Nature of the Beast is Salvas first film after getting out of jail for child molestation. I wont know that myself when I get a friendly phone call from Salva a year later, but thats another story.
Whats important here is that Im happy that Eric Roberts likes me a lot. Roberts recent biggest hits may have been the Best of the Best karate epics, but hes a very cool actor. Ive thought so ever since his great turn as Dorothy Strattons psycho husband in Star 80. Then he followed that with a magnificently weasley turn in 1984s The Pope of Greenwich Village.
Roberts would next get an Oscar nomination for his squirrelly work in 1985s Runaway Train. Then his intense screen presence would start to get overshadowed by his famous sister. Thats OK. I prefer direct-to-video films, anyway. Maybe thats why Eric and I are getting along so fabulously. Were on a couch at one point, and hes sitting so close that Im thinking about casually mentioning that Ive got a girlfriend.
The only thing that stops me is his wife sitting there in the same room. That would be the lovely Eliza Roberts, whos a fine actress in her own rightand stepmother of future Nancy Drew star Emma Roberts. Its up to Eliza to explain whats going on while her husband briefly steps out to attend to some show business.
Hes studying you, she whispers. He got this script in the other day, and hes going to use you for the role.
That gets a good laugh. Christ, I say, thats not likely. I know hes not starring in a remake of The Nutty Professor.
Eliza laughs, too. Hardy-har-har. Eric Roberts is supercool and intense, and he likes me a lot.
Ill end up reviewing The Nature of the Beast for Entertainment Weekly and several of Eric Roberts other films over the next few years. I watch more of his films on late-night cable, but its hard to keep track of them all: Hell show up in over 15 roles over the next two years, playing cold killers and flashy gangsters and at least one intergalactic overlord. So its understandable that I missed American Strays back in 1996.
Now its a Saturday night in mid-2007, and Im checking out whats on Channel 7s late movie. Some weird stuff gets shown there. American Strays catches my attention. I remember when it briefly played in theaters. Even then, it was clearly one of the low-budget Tarantino knock-offs that were already floating around in the wake of Reservoir Dogs. The cast has the usual mix of a name actor trying to get indie cred (Luke Perry), a quirky star who survives off of strange roles (Jennifer Tilly) and faded names who are either genuinely talented (John Savage) or kitschy fun (Sam J. Jones).
And theres Eric Roberts in what can only be called a change-of-pace role.
But first, lets jump to several months later. Its Thanksgiving weekend, and Im talking to a woman about a conversation we had several years ago. Shes telling me that I once compared her unfavorably to Jack Lemmon. Specifically, Id explained that she was Jack Lemmon and the woman Id just left her for was Robert Mitchum.
I felt really sad and baffled to hear about that. For one thing, I cant imagine saying anything so crueleven if I was probably referring specifically to some scene from the 1957 Lennon/Mitchum film Fire Down Below.
Its OK, shed already forgiven me, partly because shes decided that Jack Lemmon is pretty bad-ass. She wasnt even offended at the time, because she understood whatever point I was trying to make.
Anyway, heres some comfort for any other ladies who might have put up with me offering an unflattering cinematic comparison. Go watch American Strays. I am Eric Roberts in a change-of-pace role.
You cant miss me, especially at the films finale. Its no spoiler to give away the ending of American Strays. I already said that its a Tarantino rip-off. It all leads up to the far-too-typical shootout that was a staple of 90s indie filmmaking. Theres the big finish where a bunch of ultra-cool hipsters and various ethnic stereotypes and moronic authority figures are suddenly pulling out their assorted firearms and blasting away at each other.
Youll find Eric Roberts in the middle of it all. Hes not ultra-cool, and hes not an ethnic stereotype, and hes not an authority figure. He doesnt even get to be the small-town hick whos running the diner. Hes the geeky loser whos stammering and screaming while standing in the crossfire of all these other types unloading their guns.
That would be me, all right. American Strays may be awfully dated, but it was still 2007s Film of the Year. I didnt know about it, but American Strays has pretty much been my film of every year since around 1995. Roberts certainly chose the proper inspiration for nailing his part.
That includes a little addendum to the big finish that Id like to think of as also being very much mebut theres no reason to dwell on a happy ending. This ones for all the girls Ive offended before. Let them have some satisfaction.