Eddie and the Cruisers II: Eddie Lives! (1989) (part 12 of 12)
Well, I guess Hilton must have won rock-paper-scissors backstage, because this time it’s Diane chasing after Eddie to beat some sense into his thick skull.
Eddie makes a beeline for his gray sedan, with Diane running after him pleading for him to come back. He has one last night for it to be about the music, she says, before the world finds out tomorrow. Eddie’s not having any of it. He demands the car keys, and when Diane reluctantly tosses them over the car roof, he clambers in, ready to peel off. Diane quickly gets in the passenger side. So, the driver’s side was locked, but not the passenger side? Diane must have foreseen this very scenario and left her side unlocked on purpose. Perhaps I underestimated her. Eddie growls menacingly at her:
|Eddie: Diane, I don’t want to hurt you. So get out of the car!|
Our hero, ladies and gentlemen. Not only is Eddie frantic to run away, but he’s willing to beat up his girlfriend to do it. Except that’s not really what he means (I suppose), because Diane says, “Yeah, let’s go! And maybe we can find a bridge and do it right this time!” Hey, I guess that’s what Sal meant back in Lakehurst about getting it right this time! He wasn’t talking about the music, he was talking about Eddie’s botched suicide from twenty years ago! Now it all makes sense! Eddie just stares at her, so Diane starts crying, and her sobs are so fake I keep expecting her to peek at Eddie to see if he’s buying it.
Inside, the concert is supposed to have started, and Lindsay is bitching at Rick, telling him to get on stage or she’ll put on the next act. Oh yeah, I’d love to see these guys go on without Eddie. Hilton could pull it off, maybe, but Rick and the rest of them would be running offstage after five minutes, doused in Pepsi. Man, I would totally buy tickets to that.
Thankfully, Eddie shows up just in time, all better and ready to go on. He’s ditched his jacket to reveal the Eddie Wilson trademark black muscle shirt. So now he looks exactly like Eddie Wilson, except for all the ways in which he looks different. They all tumble through the backstage door like the Monkees squeezing into a phone booth.