As a child of the eighties who happened to be a prolific moviegoer, I couldn’t help but notice the presence of Larry B. Scott. Mr. Scott was an actor of many talents, but was unique in mainstream cinema of the eighties due to one simple attribute: he was black. Yes, back then that factor alone was a rather big deal, and rendered even more so by the fact that, as was often the case with African American performers in that none-too-enlightened era, he was often the only non-white person to be seen in the movies he graced.
The Token Black Guy was a role played by quite a few talented African American performers back then (and now). Of them I can vividly recall Michael D. Roberts (of THE ICE PIRATES, MANHUNTER and RAINMAN), Art Evans (of FRIGHT NIGHT, RUTHLESS PEOPLE and WHITE OF THE EYE), Keith David (of THE THING, PLATOON and THEY LIVE) and—looking closely—Samuel L. Jackson (of COMING TO AMERICA, DO THE RIGHT THING and SEA OF LOVE). Larry B. Scott was the youngest of the bunch, yet also one of the most experienced, having preceded even Denzel Washington (who appeared with Scott in 1978’s WILMA, which happened to be Washington’s first movie and Scott’s third or fourth).
Scott may not have attained the same heights as Mr. Washington, but he did make a sizeable impression. His filmography includes eighties mainstays like THE KARATE KID (1984), about which no elaboration should be necessary, and the flag waving anti-classic IRON EAGLE (1986), in which Scott famously referred to our then-president as “Ronald Ray gun.”
Scott gave at least one indisputably great performance. As a teenage heroin addict in the 1978 drama A HERO AIN’T NOTHIN’ BUT A SANDWICH, Scott, at age fourteen, more than held his own alongside heavyweights like Paul Winfield and Cicely Tyson. I didn’t become aware of that film until long after the eighties were done, but I’m glad I finally got around to seeing it, as Scott’s work therein
shows why he became such an in-demand performer.
If I had to pick a great runner-up Scott performance it would be as Lamar in REVENGE OF THE NERDS (1984). That film doesn’t get much respect these days, given that it’s quite overtly sexist and its hero (Robert Carradine) commits an act that even back in ‘84 could have gotten him prosecuted for date rape, but REVENGE OF THE NERDS is quite accurate to its period (what Carradine does wouldn’t have been considered out of place in most parties held in my So Cal home town), and, in certain aspects, daring.
That daring is manifested in large part in Scott’s performance. He’s the lone LBGT member of the titular nerd fraternity, a role whose flamboyance fits Scott’s outsized personality quite well. While Lamar’s sexuality is more often than not treated as an object of ridicule (as in a punchline supplied by the appalled silence that greets his request for a non-discriminatory gathering), the fact that it was faced up to at all was a breakthrough not just for eighties cinema, but for black representation; as Scott has stated, “The school of thought (among African Americans) was, “We finally got a brother in a hit movie and he gotta be gay.”” Kudos to Mr. Scott for taking on such a role, and for playing it without timidity or apology.
Another memorable Scott role occurred in SPACECAMP (1986). Unlike Lamar, Scott’s part here, as one of five students (played by an impressive roster of talent that includes the late Kelly Preston, Lea Thompson and Leaf—later Joaquin—Phoenix) at a Space Camp who get launched into space by a troublemaking robot, is essentially window dressing. His character has a name—Rudy—but he might as well be known by a credit once taken by Samuel L. Jackson: Black Guy.
The film’s set-up is not unlike that of the old Sid and Marty Croft program THE FAR-OUT SPACE NUTS. In that program, as you may recall, a pair of goofball maintenance workers get blasted off the earth after one of them presses “Launch” instead of “Lunch” on a space ship control panel, a situation that’s about as plausible as the premise of SPACECAMP. Still, the film is involving, and Scott does his best with a thankless role; years later he was inducted into the real life Space Camp hall of fame, so clearly he left a mark.
Other Larry B. Scott roles occurred in the made-for-TV JERK sequel THE JERK, TOO (1984), the Emilio Estevez directed S.E. Hinton
adaptation THAT WAS THEN…THIS IS NOW (1985), the Walter Hill actioner EXTREME PREJUDICE (1987) and the three worthless sequels to REVENGE OF THE NERDS. Most recently he appeared in the long-in-the-works nostalgia fest SPRING BREAK ‘83. Whether this marks a new direction for Scott, who’s been absent from the screen for nearly a decade, remains to be seen. Here’s hoping that this is indeed the case, although perhaps, after all the unforgettable screen work Larry B. Scott has given us, it doesn’t really matter.