Charlie Spradling

 

When I was around fourteen or so, I was a hardcore Full Moon Entertainment fanatic. I think Puppet Master was probably the first Full Moon title I saw, but I ended up watching every Full Moon release of the early 90s, largely because Charles Band was such a marketing genius. Band's marketing strategy was twofold. First, at the beginning or end of each Full Moon video release was a video magazine called Videozone that showcased past and future Full Moon releases. This Videozone featurette was itself so entertaining that I'd sometimes rent Full Moon releases that didn't look particularly interesting just to see the next Videozone installment. Second, prominently featured in these featurettes (and in a few Full Moon films) was a stunning jet black-haired spokesmodel named Charlie Spradling. Usually dressed in a tight-fitting Full Moon t-shirt, Spradling would introduce upcoming releases, display Full Moon merchandise, and generally serve as eye candy for the adolescent males that were Full Moon's target audience.

 

This will be the first post of a multi-part series dedicated to the all-too-brief entertainment career of Charlie Spradling. Unfortunately, Spradling has become nearly as obscure as this blog, so unearthing biographical details has been something of a challenge. I'll try to be as comprehensive as I can, however, and if any readers are aware of any information that I've left out, I'd be grateful if you'd share it with me.

(A Very Brief) Biography

According to IMDb, Charlie Lynn Spradling was born on September 27, 1968 in Fort Worth, Texas. There doesn't really seem to be a lot of information out there about her early life, but it appears she got her start in show business in 1988.
 

 

License to Drive (1988)

 

 

Charlie Spradling's first film role that I'm aware of was an uncredited appearance in 1988's License to Drive, directed by Greg Beeman. This is a film that I liked a lot when I was a kid, but when I last saw it I didn't have as much fun watching it as I'd expected I would. I still love most 80s teen comedies, but this one just hasn't held up over the years. Still, it has its moments, and one of these is a brief cameo by Spradling.

License to Drive stars Corey Haim as Les Anderson, a real semen smear of a kid whose primary ambition in life is to bed out-of-his-league Mercedes Lane (Heather Graham). Les believes a driver's license is the key to getting Mercedes in the sack, as the sight of him behind the wheel of a car will demonstrate to her, once and for all time, that he is not eleven years old. Mercedes, for her part, is obsessed with Eurotrash fuckwad Paolo (Michael A. Nickles), who drives a flashy sports car and sometimes lets Mercedes manipulate his gearshift. Les imagines that what attracts Mercedes to Paolo isn't his money, his good looks, or his expensive car, but his fucking driver's license, and he thinks that once he gets a license of his own he'll be in the game.
 

 

Opportunity falls into Les's lap at a party a night or two before he's to take his driving test. Mercedes gets into a fight with Paolo because Paolo, who's probably thirty years old, doesn't want to waste his evening at a high school party. He's already had to make four or five beer runs because he's the only guy there capable of growing facial hair. Anyway, Mercedes tries to make Paolo jealous by telling him she has a date that weekend. “With whom?” Paolo sneers, and Mercedes looks around for a suitable candidate. Seeing none, she points to Les, who's the only person in the room other than Paolo she thinks might have a penis. “Him,” she says hesitantly, a little uncertain about whether she's used the correct gender-specific pronoun. “That guy? He's eleven years old.” Les grins and makes a mental note to shoplift a box of condoms next time he's at the pharmacy.
 

 

On the night of his big date Les is still without a license, having flunked the written component of his driving exam. He refuses to let this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity pass him by, however, so he steals his grandfather's Cadillac and takes Mercedes out to a club called El Rey that she wants to go to. As soon as they arrive she jumps out of the car and hurries in, leaving Les out on the sidewalk to convince the bouncer that not only is he not eleven years old, but that the piece of ass who entered the club just before him really is his date. Meanwhile, we learn that Mercedes has selected this particular destination because it's where Paolo hangs out, and Paolo is indeed there, but with another chick (Charlie Spradling!), whom he introduces as Veronique.
 

So Mercedes storms out of the place as if Paolo has committed some egregious sin even though she's the one whose idea it was to make their relationship non-exclusive. What she should do is have Les take her home so she can have a good cry and then beg Paolo to take her back the next day. Instead, perhaps because she recognizes that Veronique is not only much more mature than she is, both behaviorally and, uh, anatomically, but is a goddess besides, she decides to significantly lower the bar and go get drunk with Les.

Over the course of the remainder of the movie Les demonstrates how much shittier of a boyfriend he would be than Paolo. When Mercedes gets drunk and passes out, does Les do the honorable thing and take her home so she can sleep it off? No, he puts her in the trunk of his car so that he and his friends Dean (Corey Feldman) and Charles (Michael Manasseri) can go to teen hangout Archie's Atomic and try to pick up some other girls. That's right. Not only does Les have no qualms about hooking up with another chick on the very night of his first date with Mercedes, he dumps her in his trunk so the babes at Archie's Atomic won't be turned off by the sight of some unconscious floozy in the back seat.
 

 

Yes, that's Les Anderson, every woman's dream catch. In addition to having no driver's license, a wandering eye, and a best friend who is an absolute scumbag,

 

 

he looks like he's eleven years old. Mercedes Lane might not be able to compete with Veronique, but surely she can do a hell of a lot better than Les Anderson.