Meat was slated for the role; even had director Milos Foreman on his considerable tail to bit it. But the Loaf was in London, and his L.A. agent said No go. Good thing too. 'Cause had Meat done Billy he'd have ended up like Brad - Dourif, that is - and would today stand sandwiched between hobbits and Chuckies.
Not that there's anything wrong with that. Dourif's done some darn good dramas over the decades (witness Wiseblood, Blue Velvet, Mississippi Burning). It's just that had Meat gone Cuckoo the world might not have had Bat Out of Hell and a certain generation of rambunctious teens would've never found "Paradise by the Dashboard Light."
Okay, so they'd've found it anyway. But face it: They'd've found it by a severely diminished soundtrack. It's almost 30 years since Meat Loaf made his way into our minds. The marketing was mad. The move was brilliant. The performance was legend. Meat begging and pleading and kneading a very tart Karla DeVito over eight-plus sex-soaked minutes of a live and wiry "Paradise." The vivid video, as all us ageds too well know, was the kickstart to each of the many, many midnight airings of The Rocky Horror Picture Show. It gave young Meat a captive, rabid audience. And they made of him a monster.
His Monstrosity has never flagged. Even when Meat wasn't on everybody's dinner plate, the Loaf still served - millions yearly - with the kinda knockdown, knockout touring that gave the legions good reason to stay legion. Arenas to theatres to clubs to theatres to arenas, Meat went full circle. And he never once stopped sweating the intensively sweaty stage show.
In between Meat did movies: Wayne's World, Gunshy, Fight Club, The Salton Sea. Sometimes he was billed as Marvin Aday, his given, other times as Michael, and most times billed as the dish that we all know. Meat Loaf. The name came from a cut his beefy alcoholic cop-of-a-dad gave him during one of their less sobering family moments. It was a scar that stuck. Platinum. In many multiples. With 30 million sold '77's Bat ranks No. 3 on all-time bestselling albums ever. '93's Bat II did a none too shabby 15. Bat III is in the works, again with Gentleman Jim Steinman on songs, and this time with Chili Peppered Soundgardener Michael Beinhorn on the knobs. By rights and by rep and by design, it too will be a blockbuster. Not bad for someone who considers himself to be "an actor who sings." And don't let the music fool you, Meat's still working that act for all he can muster. Four - count 'em -films are in the can at press time: Bloodrayne (w/Michael Madsen), Crazylove (w/24's Reiko Ayleworth), The Pleasure Drivers (w/Lauren Holly), and Tenacious D in The Pick of Destiny (w/Jack Black). More are assuredly on the way. But way and well beyond the cred he's earned by starring in high-profiling indies alongside the likes of Pitt and Norton and Kilmer and Macy, Meat's on the some rad diode hustle and flow. Celebrity Poker Showdown, Celebrity Blackjack, The Toyota Celebrity Grand Prix. There doesn't seem to be a day when he isn't on TV. Just like his namesake, Meat Loaf's become ubiquitous. A household matter.
Now he's coming here with "The Hair of the Dog." Meat Loaf knows enough to know that whatever bit him - not to mention whatever ails him - is gonna be what makes him strong. And if the fanclubs and the boards and the hordes are to be believed, Meat's back with some of his strongest stuff yet. New stuff. Old stuff. Surprise stuff. For all the world's stages. There isn't a city or a town or a state fair in the western half of the globe that Meat hasn't made mince of.
Now he's mincing ours. When he hits The Ford Pavilion Sept. 2nd and the skies light up from the fury, it'll once again be our turn to learn why Meat still matters. Much.
IF YOU GO:
Who: Meatloaf in concert
When: Friday, Sept. 2, 8 p.m.
Where: Ford Pavilion at Montage Mountain
How Much: $49.50 and $39.50
NOTE: The electric city shuttle will be running for this concert. See next week's ec/dc for details.
