I saw the actor Michael Jeter in a movie the other day, and it just made me sad. It wasn’t because of the quality of the film or the performance–although the movie was certainly one that came to define what ludicrously-budgeted Hollywood junk looks like–but simply because it was a reminder that he was gone. Jeter died in 2003 at the age of fifty, no kid but still too young. Though he won both a Tony and an Emmy, his opportunities in movies were spottier, usually relegated to something a little odd over on the fringe of the plot.

Jeter’s most prominent big screen role arguably came in Terry Gilliam’s 1990 film The Fisher King, playing a compatriot of Robin Williams’s character in the homeless community. He invests the character with a bizarrely endearing panache–which is precisely the quality that Gilliam delivers in his best moments–that makes every bit of his time onscreen memorable. It takes a special talent to make the non-sequitur line “I’m Anne Morrow Lindbergh, I can’t find my baby” into a bolt of gold lamé, but that’s precisely what he does. Appropriate for a performer with an acclaimed background in musical theater, the actor even gets a showstopping number that’s also a pivotal part of the story. He bedecks himself in a sparkling red dress and bold blonde wig and visits the cubicle of the woman his friend is smitten with to bestow a gift in the guise of a contest prize upon her. A couple of songs from the musical Gypsy are melded together with the lyrics reworked to tout the benefits of a certain video store.

It’s a great moment: ingenious, spirited and full of life. It’s the very embodiment of the sense of freedom that Gilliam brought to the film. Fine as George Fenton’s score was, I bought the soundtrack just because it included Jeter’s number (although, the presence of the film’s other unexpected musical highlight didn’t hurt either). It still shuffles up on the iPod every once in a while, a warm reminder of a movie that I can’t believe in over twenty years old. And, yes, when the song comes up, wonderful as it is, it does make me a little sad.

Michael Jeter, “Everything’s Coming Up Videos”

(Disclaimer: The soundtrack to The Fisher King appears to be well out of print, and even digital availability doesn’t seem to be at the ready. The song is presented here with the understanding that it’s not something that can be acquired through a financial transaction at your favorite local, independently-owned record store. The film itself can be purchased on DVD and Blu-ray. It’s highly recommended, easily Gilliam’s best film. And, no, I haven’t forgotten about Brazil. If anyone with a stake in the song’s ownership doesn’t like it resting here on my humble corner of the Web, simply contacting me is all that’s required to get it promptly removed.)