By Stephen Berkoff
Date: May 2004
Venue: Annabel's Studio
Acapulco rolls off the tip of the tongue and sounds like an exotic Mexican dish; mysterious, hot and desirable. I stayed in a hotel on the beach and watched the toilet paper float in shreds since the hurricane had tossed the resort into a giant sordid milk shake and everything was floating out there. Only the Mexicans swam while the white tourists lay around the hotel pools roasting themselves or getting drunk on tequila in the bar. I was there to act Sylvester Stallone's Nemesis in Rambo Two. His mission in the film was to investigate missing POWs. The actors playing the POWs sat in the bar each night and recounted their story of the day. They were small part players with the grand ambitions of life and each event that encompassed their world or touched them was the subject of much analysis. I waited for my moment of triumph in the film but it was not to be. It was a sordid, boring affair with long hours eaten away with ennui watching the endless set-ups being prepared.
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