Eccentric Flower:200906/Casting Couch

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

I understood what you said. I just don't know why you said it. What's there to miss? Hollywood's the same place now it was then. Different faces, that's all.

Christ, Larkin, that's one of the dumbest things I've ever heard from you, and that's saying something .... Well, look at you. You're the original scandal-of-the-week guy. Noticed a shortage of stories anytime lately? I don't think so.

Oh, don't get like that. You write gossip. You know it, I know it. Cut the bullshit. You are the heir apparent to a legacy of dirt .... Yeah, yeah, yeah. Point is, what's your gripe? You really believe this town's cleaned up its act?

Say, grab the waiter if you see him coming, would you? I want another. This one went fast .... No noise from you, please; I don't give a damn what you think is ladylike. It's not like I'm trying to get you to sleep with me .... No, I save all my tact for my job.

Actually, that reminds me of something. There is one scandal that doesn't really happen anymore. No, take a guess. Oh, c'mon. Think about it ....

Are you kidding? Tell me again why you call yourself a reporter? Geez, I can name ten actors right now without half trying. Difference is, the studio doesn't cover it up much anymore, but the actors still do. Especially the action stars. They're scared no men'll come to their pictures if it gets out ....

Yeah, well, it's easier for the women because all straight men are fascinated by lesbian sex. Sure they are. Okay, fine, you're the only one in the world who isn't. And I don't believe you.

That's none of your damn business. Maybe I have and maybe I haven't.

Anyway, I was talking about the casting couch. As far as I know, doesn't happen anymore, not even down in the porno lots. Nope. You haven't caught any of it because it ain't there. Can't say I'm surprised either. These days if somebody shtups a starlet and she doesn't get a part for it, she goes to court. She'll make her rent either way, and it's an easy case for the poor little thing. And there's always a lawyer willing to work for nothing down.

I am not just being a bitch. No, you didn't say it, but you were thinking it. Look, I'm no Gloria Steinem. In this town you screw or you get screwed. I don't have a problem with that. Some of these girls are perfectly willing to trade favors - but it had better damn well be a trade, get me? If they put out and they don't get something back, well, hell, I can't blame them for what they do to get a piece. You've seen these kids in the cattle calls. Some of them look like they're about to keel over dead.

But what you reminded me of - oh, here he is. Yes, another please. Larkin, you want one? Two more.

Okay. So. I figure, yeah, the casting couch is basically dead, but I know you've seen these directors who date their lead actresses, right? I'll tell my clients right off the bat. You get a part with this guy, he'll do his best to get into your pants. I don't care how you deal with it, but be ready for it. Sometimes they take him up on it. Sometimes they don't. But this woman you reminded me of, she was different.

Well ....

I first saw her in a cattle call. Two hundred girls for one part, and I walked by and kinda shook my head. Those just make me sad. No, I was there for something different, I don't remember what. Unrelated. Anyway I remember this one because she was dressed just a shade too sleazy, if you get what I mean. Like she wanted to look available but not too available. Really was a fine line, I remember thinking. Too much and they'd think she was trashy; not enough and she wouldn't get noticed for it, which was obviously what she was trying to do.

And the director - no, I'm not going to tell you his name - small stuff, but you'd know him - as sweet as can be; he wouldn't have laid a finger on her, and he wouldn't have let the crew try anything either. That kind of guy. Very upstanding. So I figured she was wasting her time.

Well, the next day I happen to see this same director, and he's got the bimbo on his arm I remember from the line, and she's cuddling up to him and making nice and all that, and I remember getting a little mad about that, you know? Like, damn, I guess everybody falls for it once in a while. But the picture gets cast and I conned someone at the studio into giving me the list as a favor, because I was curious .... Nope, she wasn't in it, at least not with billing. Then I got mad at him because it sure looked like he'd been using her as a warm body for a couple of nights.

Couple of days later, I'm somewhere else - not the same studio - and I see this woman again. Same drill - in a casting line, dressed just sleazy enough. I considered going up to her and saying something, but hell, she didn't know me from Adam, she'd probably think I was stalking her or something. All right, well, I admit I came pretty close. I had to be around there for the next couple of days anyway, so I kept my eyes open, and I didn't see her anywhere around during that time. Especially not clinging to the director.

About time. Should I just order the next round in advance? By the time it gets here, I'll have finished this one. Yeah. Cheers.

So I see this woman about three or four more times over the next two months. No, really. Once every couple of weeks. Sometimes in a cattle call, sometimes hanging on a director or some crew member. Once I saw her with a producer in a restaurant. They were drinking champagne. No, I'm serious. By then I figured, well, this kid's either really naive or she's only got one trick. So to speak. I mean, all this screwing around, if she really was sleeping with them, and she didn't have any parts to show for it as far as I knew.

Okay, here we get into stalker territory .... Yeah, I started asking around. Got her name from one of the people she'd been with - no, I'm not going to tell you that either, so give it a rest. He said she'd been the one who made the first move, but all the guys say that .... What do you mean, sexist? It's true. Men never admit they're the first to ask. They think it makes them look like predators. Besides, if the woman made the first move, they think it means she was really hot for them .... Fine, have it your way. Anyway, he swore she practically tripped him and threw him into bed. And he said she broke it off - if that's what you can call it; stayed at his house three nights, said goodbye, and vanished. No phone number, no address.

I decided I needed a second opinion, so I went to one of the directors I'd seen her with. I was nervous about that - I didn't want him to think I was coming after him with a warrant or anything - but I needed the whole story from someone she'd actually auditioned for.

He said that she was really, um, I don't want "eager" - give me a word here - y'know, wide-eyed and sincere and - yeah, earnest, that's good. Really earnest. Kept talking about how she'd do anything for the part and dropping these big hints and finally he just gave in. He took her home and they had great sex all night, he says. Next morning, when he woke up, she was gone. I have to tell you, Larkin, at that point I was hoping he'd say she'd ripped off his stereo or something - I wasn't exactly sympathetic - but no, she just left him a note. So he went and dug out the call sheet and called her number ... and got the time and weather.

Honest! Yeah, he couldn't believe it either. He checked out the address and it was bogus too - like a sewage plant or something, I forget what. But are you following this, Mr. Reporter? She never really wanted a part. Right - she didn't want to be called back, she just wanted to go to bed with him. How about that?

At this point I think I went all the way into compulsive about this woman. I started watching for cattle calls in her range so I could go look for her. But she didn't turn up at any for three, four weeks. Maybe a month. And I gave up.

So about two months after that, just by chance, I see her. I'm arriving at a studio and it's way early in the morning and she's just coming in the studio gates, on foot.

"Cattle call?" I asked her, knowing damn well.

"Uh-huh."

"A little silly to line up for it this early, they won't even start handing out call sheets for another hour. Want a cup of coffee? I'd like to talk to you for a minute."

I didn't really expect her to buy it but she did. Gave me a look, though. Trying to figure out what I was after. I think maybe she came along because she was curious. And what am I going to do, go postal in the middle of the commissary?

"So what can I do for you?" she asked, when we were settled in.

"I want to know why you do it," I replied.

I swear it was like flipping a switch. She went all bright-eyed and smiley, and "Oh, I've always wanted to act, for as long as I can remember. When I was little I -"

"Stop," I said. "Save it. I mean, why you do what you really do."

"I don't understand what you mean," she said. She was pretty good; she almost managed to not look panicked.

"Honey," I said, "by now I think you must have gone to bed with every director in this town below the A-list, and for all I know you tripped them too. Also crew, a few money men, and god alone knows who else. And I'm not saying I have a problem with that, but jesus, girl, there are easier ways to get laid. So what's the deal?"

Now she was back to her other personality again. I figured that was the real one. "Why the hell should you care?" she said.

I shrugged. "Maybe I'm nosy. Just that I thought I'd seen everything and you're new. What do you really do? How in hell do you pay your rent?"

She stood up. "Thanks for the coffee."

That was it, I figured. From then on she'd be watching for me if she was as smart as I thought she was. Even from a couple of sentences, it was pretty clear that the bimbo part was a put-on. She was getting exactly what she wanted. I just couldn't figure it out. I mean, you know how horny crew are. She could've gone up to just about any cameraman in town and said, "Hey, can I be your slut for the night?" and not bothered with the standing in line and doing the sincere bit and all.

Well, what happened next was that I saw her a month later on the arm of a director who was A-list. Ask me for a name, Larkin, and I swear I'll stop right now and not tell you the rest. I mean it. A-list, and married. Okay, it's mostly a marriage for show, gossip says, but even so ... I managed to corner her without him later that night.

"You," I said, "are giving people a bad name."

"Give me a break," she replied. "He doesn't care if he's seen with me - why should you?"

"Not really what I meant," I said. "I mean women. Come to my office tomorrow. Nine. Be there." I handed her a card.

"Or else what?" she said, looking at it.

"Or else I'll call in favors from everyone I know. And I know a lot of people, honey. I'll put your picture on the studio walls. I will have your little secret all over town. I'll tell the press. Wanna see how fast your supply can dry up?"

The next morning she came into my office. "So what do I have to do?" she asked.

"First, you have to tell me the truth," I said.

"I live off a little money I inherited," she said. "A friend lets me keep stuff at her place and sometimes sleep on the sofa. I'm usually sleeping somewhere else and I don't pay for my own food much, so I don't spend a lot of it. I guess you want to know why I don't just find somebody willing to take me in and skip the fuss."

I nodded.

"Well, I guess you could say I like variety. If you say to a guy, 'hey, can I be your sex toy?' they usually want to make it long-term. I only want maybe one or two nights. And, um, they treat you better if they think you're an ingenue and not a slut. I mean - well, you know - some men think it's better to have a woman look stupid than look like she wants it. Look, what are you planning to do? Is there something I can do for you, maybe, if you don't tell anybody? I really like things the way they are -"

She was sitting on the corner of my desk, and she had this look. I'm slow, but I got the idea. Yeah, you got it .... Didn't you already ask that? Okay, let's put it this way: There are some women I'd consider, but not her, not under the circumstances. Get my meaning? Exactly the opposite of what I was trying to accomplish.

"Sit over there," I said to her, "and don't try to flirt with me. I'm not going to bust you. I'm going to represent you."

"What?"

"I just became your agent. Not exactly normal but you're not exactly a normal client."

"But - but I don't want to act. I don't even know how. I've never actually acted in anything in my life."

"The hell you say," I replied. "You've been doing a great acting job at every single cattle call. I saw it myself." I fluttered my eyes. "'Oh, I've always wanted to be an actress, ever since I was out of diapers.' If that's not acting, I don't know what is."

"But -"

"Listen. You can be an actress and still play your little games, or you can not be an actress and be exposed all over town. Those are your choices. Not exactly fair of me to force you to work with me, so if you want to pick another agent, or go it alone, dandy. But I expect to see you cast within two months, and I expect you to keep in steady work after that. I can get that for you. I don't guarantee anyone else."

Oh, yeah, she took it. Still with me. That was a couple of years ago. She broke out within about six months; she's A-list now. Turning away work.

No names, Larkin, dammit!

Okay, yes, I was high-handed. But I was right. Listen: A year or so later she and I were talking and she told me how glad she was. Honest. I knew; I don't know how I knew exactly, but I did.

Ever heard of sublimation? I mean, when someone hops beds like that, seems to me like they're really looking for something else. Not that she doesn't still sleep around. She always did like sex a lot; that part wasn't an act. She's very discreet about it, though. Funny how the press doesn't jump on an actor who fools around, but an actress -

Oh, don't be like that, you know I'm right.

Anyway, other than that, I'd say the casting couch is dead. Definitely.