Alex sat across from the brown eyed woman for a minute, listening to her story. He watched as her perfectly groomed eyebrows bounced up and down, and her full, glossy lips spread and curled around her words. She was beautiful he thought scanning the circumference of her face. Was she Hispanic? He wondered. Italian maybe? “I was a music major at Berkley and my Father was a touring saxophonist….” She looked intently at Alex while she spoke, and he was aware of her desire to impress him. “I had a recording contract and released an album two years ago…..it sold well but was not embraced by radio. I’ve had my fill of the music business and I want to get into acting…..”
Alex vaguely remembered something about the young singer. He had seen the record on the dash of his daughters car sometime last year. That face was hard to forget.
He had agreed to meet with her at the suggestion of a friend from another agency. “She’s perfect for you guys Al” he said, “…she’ll get lost over here”.
Alex had a stack of photos under his desk that reached just below his knee of young, beautiful hopefuls looking for an agent in this town. Most don’t make it past the pile. His receptionist was instructed to decline unsolicited callers, and to only accept appointments with unsigned talent by referral. He sometimes wondered if he was missing out on the next Meryl Streep by doing this, but couldn’t imagine conducting his business any other way.
On the rare occasion that a star does walk into your office you know it when you see it. And Meryl Streep’s are made, not born.
And as she sat before him, the doe-eyed singer, slash actress wanna-be, knew not of the scale on which we was being weighed. She was unaware that it wasn’t her story, or her experience that would ultimately win her a spot at the agency. It wasn’t her youth or her beauty. It wasn’t even her talent. It was merely whether the wind was blowing in her direction that morning, or not.
Alex had been at the agency for a decade. Gone were the days of reviews and inquiry. Alex had more hits than misses and was therefore left to chose.
So, as he slides his thumb across her resume and nods in the appropriate places, the girl eventually leaves hopeful.
And as she rounds the corner out of sight, he will lick his index finger, lift it above his head, and decide…
{ 7 comments }
Roman à clef?
Very interesting.
I can’t wait for the next installment!
verry verry interesting??
I love you and you are too young to get this cynical…….
Hmmm…are we reading the book in progress?!
This is most likely a stand alone story. Very well put together, and speaks of the truth. I don’t think that it is cynical, just an understanding that building Acting Talent is an industry. I love that it humanizes the person responsible for making the choices.
I’ve been a small group leader, and been overwhelmed by the details that make up day-to-day work. This guy choice a career in an industry that a lot of people want to enter. He gets more information than he can handle. An he has to make snap decisions on a subject which he can rationalize, but never explain: what does it mean if someone has potential.
I think writing like this is really important. When you de-demonize the people behind that curtains, when you help someone see what an antagonist may pass through to get to where they are, you help the world become a more peaceful place. Doesn’t mean you have to like the industry, or even approve of the people that join it. But it keeps you from hating them, and maybe other any vilified groups as well.
Autobiographical?
Cass,
Please don’t post this comment. Just a minor correction. If Berkley is supposed to be The University of California, that is Berkeley. If it is the Boston Music School that is Berklee. I assume you mean the second.
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