Chapter 8 |
Monday morning, Matthew had just finished washing up when his phone rang. His new agent, Dennis Coulter, was already waiting downstairs in his car. He quickly changed into a fresh suit, hurried down, and climbed into the car. Together, they sped off toward Columbia Pictures.
On the way, Dennis peppered Matthew with warnings: don't say anything stupid on set, don't be too nosy, and if he happened to see any unusual equipment, he should pretend it wasn't there.
Matthew gave a cursory nod, but didn't really take the advice to heart. He was starting from the very bottom and was determined to climb the ladder as fast as possible. That meant two things: first, honing his skills, like his acting, and second, taking risks.
But opportunities didn't just fall out of the sky; sometimes, you had to create them yourself.
After all, if he hadn't asked Angelina Jolie for a role, would he even have this chance?
Matthew had spent the last few days mulling over why Jolie had honored their verbal agreement. He'd come to a few conclusions: first, the woman was anything but conventional, and second, she was a person who kept her word.
Dennis drove onto the Columbia Pictures lot, past the area where studio tours stopped. He parked the car, asked for directions, and soon located the soundstage for "Girl, Interrupted." Despite the early hour, it was already bustling with people coming and going.
Once inside, after finding out where the casting director's office was, Dennis Coulter asked, "Don't you want to go say hi to Ms. Jolie?"
"There's no need," Matthew said, guessing that Angelina Jolie probably wouldn't want to see him. "Let's just go to the casting director."
They knocked. A voice from inside called, "Come in." The two men entered to find a man in his late thirties sitting behind a desk, seemingly flipping through a script.
"Mr. Ruby?" Matthew ventured.
The man looked up and nodded. "Vanessa, Ms. Jolie’s assistant, told me to come in for an audition today."
"Ah," Ruby said, as if a memory had just clicked into place. "So you're Matthew."
Dennis Coulter, who had been listening with rapt attention, rushed forward. He presented his business card with both hands and said obsequiously, "Hello, Mr. Ruby. I'm Matthew's agent, Dennis Coulter."
Ruby took the card and tossed it casually onto his desk. His eyes then raked over Matthew from head to toe. "Good. Very good."
He picked up the phone receiver and pressed a button on the console. "John, take our guests to get their contracts signed."
Matthew glanced from Ruby to Dennis, his expression clearly asking, "Where was the audition?"
A young man entered and gestured for them to follow. "This way to the legal department."
Beside him, Dennis, his face a mask of fawning respect, spent a few moments brown-nosing Ruby before successfully acquiring his business card.
Led by the young man, Matthew and Dennis left the office and headed for the production's legal department, which handled all the contracts.
As they walked, Matthew asked in a low voice, "Was that even an audition?"
"Did it look like one?" Dennis countered. "It's an extra role. As long as you don't look like a freak, one glance is all they need to approve you."
Matthew nodded. That made sense.
In another office, a legal advisor brought them a contract. Matthew took it and began to page through it, but he struggled. His reading skills were so poor that he knew he'd have to work on them if he wanted to get anywhere. At the very least, he wouldn't feel as helpless as he did now.
He simply handed the contract to Dennis. It was better to leave these things to an agent. Besides, he didn't need to worry about the production team trying to swindle someone as insignificant as him.
As Dennis carefully scanned the contract, Matthew's mind drifted back to his own plans. He decided he would find a bookstore later and buy a few books on acting—both to gain some insight and to work on his reading.
The agent finished skimming the papers and beckoned Matthew over. "Sign here, and here."
Matthew walked over and signed the contract. The young man who had led them there said, "You're all set. We'll call you when we need you."
"Let's go," Dennis said, nudging Matthew, who had frozen on the spot.
"Don't I start working now?" Matthew asked.
"No, you're not needed for filming today," Dennis replied patiently. "What's the point of keeping you here just to run up the clock and pay you for doing nothing?"
Matthew shrugged. He'd just signed a contract to work as an extra for six dollars an hour, which he figured was probably the local minimum wage. The production was required to pay him for all his time, not just during filming, but also for any time he spent waiting on set.
The production wouldn't pay him directly. They'd pay the agency, which would deduct its ten percent commission and then forward him the rest.
In the end, it wouldn't amount to much money.
"Dennis..." The fifty-thousand-dollar debt weighed heavily on Matthew's mind. "When does the pay get better?"
"What, not happy with the pay?" They were in a relatively empty corridor, so Dennis spoke freely. "Join the Screen Actors Guild. You'll double your salary, at least."
Matthew's eyes widened. "Really?"
Dennis didn't even glance at him. "Of course, it's true. The Screen Actors Guild has a rule: minimum wage for members is ten dollars an hour, and the minimum day rate is a hundred and twenty."
Matthew wasn't an idiot; he immediately sensed the catch. "Productions don't like to hire union extras, do they?"
It was just like any other job market—what boss didn't love cheap labor?
"Exactly," Dennis Coulter said, clapping Matthew on the shoulder in a fatherly, old-fashioned way.
"Joining the Guild might seem like a smart move, but you'd lose your only competitive advantage: being cheap."
He snorted. "Besides, you think you can just waltz into the Screen Actors Guild because you feel like it?"
Matthew blinked, playing the part of the ignorant fool. "I thought the barrier to entry was low."
"Oh, the barrier to entry for the Guild is low, alright," Dennis Coulter said, walking ahead and waiting for Matthew to catch up before adding, "But even low barriers have gatekeepers."
Matthew needed to understand the rules of the game. "Can you tell me more?"
Dennis glanced back at Matthew, a flicker of impatience on his face, but he answered anyway. "You have to meet the eligibility requirements before you can even apply."
He cleared his throat. "First, you could get a principal role in a film, commercial, or TV show that has a contract with the Guild and pays Guild rates. Or, you could work for thirty days on a similar production and apply for membership during that time. The other way is for an extra to get three separate days of work on a Guild-approved production and provide the pay stubs. Then they can apply."
Hearing that, Matthew understood immediately. Even if he wanted to join, he wasn't eligible.
Dennis grunted. "And it costs a lot of money! Three thousand dollars to join in Los Angeles."
"I guess I'll stay non-union for now," Matthew decided on the spot.
A patronizing smirk spread across Dennis's face again. "See? You're not so dumb. I like that."
Matthew's gaze flickered over the agent's fleshy face, but he kept his mouth shut.
As they reached the soundstage entrance, Dennis stopped abruptly. "You can head back on your own," he told Matthew. "I've got some business here."
Before Matthew could respond, he turned and headed back inside.
Matthew frowned. He'd have to be a fool not to see the agent's real intentions.
It was clear from Dennis's actions that he had simply used Matthew as his ticket onto the set of this production.
He shook his head. It didn't bother him. In a way, they were using each other.
Putting Dennis out of his mind, Matthew made his way off the Columbia Pictures lot. While looking for a bus stop near the entrance, he spotted a large bookstore on the road used by the studio tour trams. It specialized in books about film and television.
He decided to buy a few books and headed straight for it. The store was nearly empty—it was still early—and a pair of clerks chatted quietly by the register.
He found the section on acting and pulled a thick volume from the shelf.
The opposite shelf was empty, giving him a clear view down the adjacent aisle.
Matthew paid it no mind, glancing over subconsciously, but his eyes were immediately drawn to a woman standing there.
The woman had short, dark hair and features so refined they seemed flawless. From his angle, she appeared slender, with an air of innocent beauty and a full bust that only amplified her feminine allure. She was stunning.