Curtis Armstrong
In a career that spans nearly 25 years, Curtis Armstrong has had memorable parts in everything from Moonlighting to cult classics like Better Off Dead. Most people, however, will always remember him best as Dudley "Booger" Dawson in Revenge Of The Nerds. Yet ever since his revelatory turn in Ray, there's been a newfound interest in Armstrong as a dramatic actor, leading to a recent run in Sam Shepard's play The God Of Hell and supporting roles in upcoming films Southland Tales and Smokin' Aces. When he's not performing, Armstrong pursues varied academic interests, chief among them a fascination with late singer-songwriter Harry Nilsson, on whom Armstrong is considered one of the world's leading authorities. (Armstrong even wrote the liner notes for a series of recent Nilsson reissues.) He spoke with The A.V. Club about his work on the recent Nilsson reissues, his new life as a dramatic actor, and coming to terms with the role that will forever define him.
The A.V. Club: How did your interest in Harry Nilsson lead to you becoming one of the world's foremost authorities on him?
Curtis Armstrong: I had been a fan since the late '60s, and from the first songs of his that I heard, I just had a connection. By the mid-'70s I was obsessed. I wrote him a letter in 1976 offering to write his biography. Which is kind of ridiculous, because I was a penniless actor living in New York at the time, and I had no business writing anybody's biography. I then decided I wanted to do a documentary on him, and I contacted the RCA/BMG archive in New York looking for certain archival footage. It turned out that the man in charge was a fan as well, and they were planning on re-releasing his albums, so he asked me to pick out bonus tracks. Then they called me up asking if I would do the liner notes as well, and gave me a co-producer credit. Obviously I didn't set out to become the world's leading authority—not that I'm claiming that. I just wound up in this position.
AVC: Why do you think he's being rediscovered posthumously?
CA: Sometimes a person has to be dead a while before people can appreciate what they did when they were alive. Nilsson went through the bulk of his career getting no attention at all—except the Beatles business, with him and Lennon getting thrown out of the Troubadour in '74. But he didn't really give a lot of interviews, and he didn't pursue fame in the way that he could have. He didn't perform live, and so there is the feeling of this secret, unknown person who wrote all this beautiful music.
AVC: Have you heard any of the contemporary Nilsson covers, like the remake of Pussy Cats by The Walkmen?
CA: I listened to it the other day, actually, and some of it's quite good, and some of it's just awful. I think they did a great job, but I just for the life of me couldn't figure out what possessed them to do it. I wasn't familiar with their work before, so I only bought a copy because people kept e-mailing me. It's just such a peculiar idea.
AVC: Can you verify the oft-repeated story that Nilsson visualized The Point [the Nilsson-penned 1971 animated children's film] while on acid?
CA: I can only confirm that I have interviews with him where he says that. I have no reason to suppose that that's not exactly what happened. It was about the right time, around 1970. He was living in Laurel Canyon, and he dropped acid, went for a walk, and he noticed that all the branches and all the leaves had points. It was one of those great acid revelations—which isn't much of a revelation when you think about it.