Read Last Night at the Viper Room: River Phoenix and the Hollywood He Left Behind for Free Online Page A

on in this world today, so much ignorance among people. That’s not to say I’m not standing amongst everybody. But the point is, What can we do now? That’s the thing about vegetarianism; it’s an individual’s decision and it’s something you have control over. How many things do we really have control over?”
     
    RIVER PHOENIX WALKS DOWN A wooded path, accompanied by two large dogs, a German shepherd and a Doberman/German shepherd mix. He calls for the dogs, Justice and Jupiter, to come along. The camera cuts to a close-up: River rubs a dog’s neck, and kisses it on top of its nose.
    “Hello, I’m River Phoenix,” he says, and swallows uncertainly, as if he’s trying the name out for the first time. He’s wearing black jeans, black boots, and a white People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals sweatshirt with a microphone clipped to it. His hair is long but tucked behind his ears. He’s glowing as if there’s a forty-watt bulb concealed in his esophagus. “And if you care about animals, here’s some good news: People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals can show you some easy ways to help out.”
    The camera pulls back to reveal that River is sitting cross-legged on the ground, holding his dogs, surrounded by fallen leaves. “It’s up to us to take care of all our friends,” he says as we dissolve to footage of him wrestling and playing with one of the dogs. “Write for a free brochure: PETA Kids, Washington, D.C., two-zero-zero-one-five. Thank you.” The camera dissolves back to River on the ground, although one of the dogs has wandered off for a nap. He smiles so winningly that you want to buy whatever it is he’s selling, whether it’s cranberry juice or animal liberation.
    In another take, River sits on a bench, his right arm draped around one of the dogs as if he’s a high school quarterback on a date. “Are you a kid who cares about animals?” he asks. “There are lots of us. Come join us and find out how you can help.” River turns to the dog. “Hope to hear from you soon. Right, Jupiter?”
    Outtakes from the PSA reveal the work that goes into letting River Phoenix chat casually with his fans for thirty seconds. He tries talking while walking toward the camera, but the wire for his microphone gets snagged. He trips over his lines and rolls his eyes. Cue cards are offered to him, but he objects, “If I read it, it’ll just look like I’m reading it!”
    River pushes his hair back, but then it falls into his face again, revealing how long it actually is. With one hand on each dog, he casually jerks his head clockwise, flipping his hair so it goes sailing over and back, a fleeting blond waterfall.
    “People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals can show you—” River stops short. “You’re not filming this, are you?”

9
    BACK IN THE U.S.A.
    Delivered to the docks of Miami like a cargo package, the Bottom family returned to the United States with few possessions beyond River’s acoustic guitar and some battered Tonka trucks. They headed to Winter Park, near Orlando; Arlyn’s parents had retired and moved from the Bronx down to Florida. They were delighted to see their grandchildren, but there wasn’t room in their house for six more people. Fortunately, the family found a place in the Orlando area where they could stay: Alfonso Sainz, their friend from Venezuela who had given River his guitar, had a mansion nearby. John agreed to serve as handyman for Sainz’s property, and the family moved into another caretaker’s cottage.
    River was having 120-volt culture shock. After four years away from the States—half his young life—he thought of Spanish as his native tongue. And like millions of children before him, he discovered television, which he found alluring and confusing. He saw a western movie and, not realizing it was fiction, thought “that companies paid people’s families money to kill them.”
    River’s grandparents were shocked to discover that he had never