Slate: The Salacious Story of a Hollywood Casting Director Read online

  Brandon Reed had been Vivien’s associate for nearly two years. Twenty-seven years old, tall and slender, with short brown hair, he looked particularly vibrant today, as if he had gotten laid recently.

  Vivien, looking more rested than earlier, walked out of her office carrying five bags. “Any messages?”

  Brandon looked down at the telephone to see a blinking light, which meant there were indeed messages on the phone. “Not a one,” he lied.

  “OK. So we’re good on Throes of Death for now. I need you to start setting up Friday’s session for that period movieSoraya.”

  Brandon was taking notes. “OK. Starting at eleven?”

  “No. Let’s do twelve. Gavin’s got that audition in the morning. I don’t want to push it.”

  “Oh yeah. For that pilot?”

  “Yes. He’s already practicing for it. Driving me insane.”

  Brandon laughed. “So how long do you want the session?”

  “I would say, start scheduling from twelve o’clock to four o’clock, and we’ll go from there. But I want at least fifty people set up by tonight, and I want everyone confirmed by tomorrow afternoon. If they’re not confirmed by five o’clock tomorrow, we’re cancelling them. I want you to be more aggressive on the phone, Brandon. You come off a little soft.”

  “OK,” he said with an annoyed sigh.

  “You want to be a movie director, right?”

  “Yes.” Brandon started to slump in his chair.

  “You have to be strong. You have to be really strong to make it in this business.”

  “I know.” He looked like he had heard her speech a thousand times.

  “OK.”

  Vivien leaned in toward Tom’s internship corner. He peered up at Vivien with frightened eyes.

  “And what are you doing, Tim?”

  “Tom.”

  “Pardon?”

  “It’s Tom.”

  “I know,” she said. “What are you doing?”

  “I was reading the script to Throes of Death.”

  “OK. Put that aside for now. In my office, you work. This isn’t one of those internships where you just sit and read all day. I want you to participate.”

  “All right.” He grabbed his notepad.

  “So Brandon’s setting up the session for Friday. I want you to start setting up a session for next Thursday. For that Christmas comedy we just started working on.” She turned to Brandon. “What’s that called? I keep forgetting.”

  “Christmas in Quebec,” Brandon said with a laugh.

  “Yes, that one. We’re casting the role of the mother, and I want you to set up these twenty women.” Vivien handed Tom a piece of paper with unintelligible handwriting scribbled all over it. “Heather Locklear and Elizabeth Berkeley are meetings only. The rest have to read. I’ll give you more ideas tomorrow.”

  “So you want me to just call the agents of these people and set them up for next Thursday?” Tom asked.

  “Yes.”

  “What time?”

  “Let’s do the morning. Start at eleven, and go until two or so.”

  “OK.”

  Vivien started walking toward the hallway but stopped, briefly, to look at the intern one final time. “Do you think you can handle that?”

  Tom wiped a booger from his nose and smiled proudly. “I think I can handle that.”

  -2-

  “So what does a casting director do, exactly?”

  Vivien found herself in the family section of the video store, confusedly flipping through DVDs of Disney and Warner Brothers animated classics.

  She turned to the young girl beside her, who looked no older than sixteen. She had curly brown hair, and a large pair of black-framed glasses.

  “What’s your name, sweetie?” Vivien asked.

  “Jessica.”

  “Hello Jessica. Well you know when you watch a movie and you think, God, this could’ve been great if the actors weren’t so lousy?”

  “Yes. All the time.”

  “Well let’s just say that casting director didn’t do her job. My job is to find the best actors for each role and present the director with my choices.”

  She looked impressed. “So you’re the person who chooses all the actors? That’s pretty cool.”

  Vivien finally located some live-action movies, but they still didn’t seem to be what she was looking for. These were G-rated family drivel.

  “Well, no, the actors are ultimately chosen at the director and producer’s discretion.”

  Jessica’s excitement dwindled. “So you don’t make the final decision.”

  “No.”

  “Oh.”

  Vivien started moving her way down the aisle. She typically loved this movie rental store. It was called Cinafolio, and it was one of the last few independently owned video stores in the Valley. It had opened back in 1991, the first year she started casting, and it had always been her one stop shop for video rentals. The employees were typically college students with strong film backgrounds, but this little twirp didn’t seem to know anything about movies.

  “So what you do is frivolous.”

  Vivien was taken aback. “Excuse me?”

  “Well if you don’t have final say, then it seems your job doesn’t mean a whole lot.”

  “Trust me, kid,” Vivien said, trying to move away from her, “movies need casting directors. We help find actors for every role, from the heroic leading man, to the dorky waitress with one line.”

  “Why can’t the director just do all that?”

  “Because directors know as much about actors as they do the curvature of their prostates.”

  Vivien now found herself in the horror section, face to face with Michael Myers and Jason Voorhees. She sighed and turned around to find the comedy section. The Way We Were. When Harry Met Sally. While You Were Sleeping.

  “Why is The Way We Were in the comedy section?” Vivien asked. “That’s a drama.”

  Jessica took the copy of The Way We Were and placed it in the horror section next to A Nightmare on Elm Street 5: The Dream Child. “We do what we want here.”

  “I see.”

  Vivien looked at the bottom of the comedy shelf to see a lone copy of the 2008 remake of The Women. She picked it up and giggled at the awful DVD cover art.

  Jessica shivered. “Please don’t rent that. You’ll feel dirty on the outside and empty on the inside.”

  Maybe this idiot does have taste after all, Vivien thought.

  “Is this the movie where you never see any men?”

  “That’s correct,” Jessica said. “All the supporting actors, even the extras, are women. Funny idea but horrible execution. I love Annette Bening but even she was bad.”

  Vivien put the DVD back on the shelf. “No men, huh? Well that would be a boring movie to cast, wouldn’t it?”

  The girl didn’t even chuckle; instead, she took another step forward.

  Vivien happily obliged to take a step back. “I’m sorry, I thought you were going to help me.”

  “Yes. What was your son looking for again?”

  “My son is an actor, and he has an audition in a few days. He’s playing a fourteen-year-old drug addict who lives on the streets. I’m trying to find a movie that he can watch for research.”

  “Oh, I know the perfect movie. The kid in this film can teach your son a thing or two about acting.”

  Jessica stepped into the other aisle, leaving Vivien enough time to stick the piece of cinnamon gum she was chewing inside one of the Puppet Master VHS tapes.

  Jessica handed her a video: The Sixth Sense.

  “I don’t think this will help,” Vivien said.

  “Haley Joel Osment is so good in this. He won the Academy Award, you know.”

  “I don’t think he did.”

  “Yeah, well, I think you’re wrong.”

  Vivien tried to imagine how much trouble she’d get into if she slugged this annoying girl in the face.

  “I’ll keep looking,” Vivi
en said.

  ---

  Gavin had three girls standing around him when his mother pulled up to St. Corabi’s Elementary School at Ventura and White Oak. She rolled down her window and almost felt guilty in persuading the boy to walk away from the large batch of pussy.

  “Gavin!”

  He looked up and smiled. To this day it made Vivien feel lucky that her only child always looked happy to see her.

  “Hey Mom.”

  Gavin opened the trunk and threw his backpack inside. He waved to the three girls and jumped into the car.

  “How many girlfriends do you have now?”

  “Very funny, Mom. Just one.”

  “Which one of those girls?”

  “None of them. You know my girlfriend is Kendyll.”

  “The black girl?”

  “Yes, Mom. The black girl.”

  Vivien started to put the car in reverse. She looked at her son while he stared out of his window. He had just turned thirteen but had a strong maturity about him. He had inherited the dark skin of her husband, and he had a thick head of curly black hair. His lips were striking and full, with a butt chin that most assuredly made Kendyll and all of her friends go wild.

  Gavin noticed DVDs on the floor and started reading the backs of them. “What are these for?”

  Vivien pulled out of the parking lot and started heading toward home. “For your audition on Friday. I read the sides. You don’t really have any understanding about what kind of kid this is. He’s an orphan, he’s violent, he has a drug problem, and his only friends have syphilis.”

  “And you think Stand by Me will help me? Mom, I’ve seen Stand by Me. It’s nothing like that.”

  “Oh. Really?”

  The plots of movies were starting to fade from Vivien’s usually impeccable memory for the first time in her life.

  “Well, you have your acting coach in an hour, so you can talk it over with him. This is important, Gav. This is a series regular on a pilot. This could be your big break. This could be your fame and fortune.”

  “I know, Mom. I don’t need another lecture.”

  “I just want you to always be one step ahead of the pack. There’s gonna be fifty other little shits trying to steal this part away from you. This pilot already has Lauren Graham and Joshua Jackson attached to it. And I even heard Robert De Niro is circling it as his first starring role on a TV show.”

  “Oh yeah? The Taxi Driver guy?”

  Vivien moved into a different lane. “It bothers me that you know Taxi Driver.”

  “Don’t worry, Mom. I’ve already started doing my research.”

  That’s my boy.

  ---

  Vivien and Gavin were ten minutes late for his session, and the effeminate acting coach made his grievances known by keeping his door locked for more than five minutes.

  While her son was getting coached inside the hot second floor room of the ancient Santa Monica building, Vivien found herself pulling out her phone and checking in with Brandon.

  “Hey, it’s me. Anything going on?”

  “Just setting up the session,” Brandon said.

  “Good. Is Tim setting up his session, too?”

  “Yes, he’s been on the phone for hours. We both have. Everything all right with you?”

  “Yeah, just busy. You know, the usual. Have you edited today’s session yet?”

  “No, not yet.”

  “OK, well when you finish setting up for Friday, please start capturing the footage. We need to see the auditions from today to see how everyone reads on camera.”

  She heard a sigh with an undercurrent of hatred. “I know. OK.”

  “Thank you, Brandon.”

  Vivien hung up before the young man could give her his piece of mind. He had been working for her for almost two years now, and she worried she had allowed him to get too close to her. When an associate started working for her day in and day out, month after month, that associate became a vital part of her life. And sometimes, when that associate felt too comfortable with Vivien, he would feel it appropriate to slack off on his work. She never felt it truer than with Brandon. Sometimes she wondered if he was surfing gay Internet porn all day and giving the interns all the work.

  Gavin exited the room. “All done. What are we having for dinner?”

  Vivien stood up, wiping sweat off her forehead, and started walking with her son down the long hallway. “I was thinking breakfast for dinner tonight. How does that sound?”

  “Yes! Waffles?”

  “Waffles. Eggs. Hash browns. You name it.”

  Gavin smiled so big Vivien thought she could feel her heart tripling in size.

  They were almost to the exit when a young man turned a corner and nearly bumped into Gavin.

  “Oh, sorry,” he said.

  “That’s OK.” Gavin kept walking.

  “I’m sorry, I’m so lost. Can you help me?”

  The young man had short, blond hair and an all-American look. His arms were buff enough to bite into, and his firm buttocks stood out prominently down below his back. His forehead was soaking wet, too.

  Vivien stopped and turned to him “Yes, honey, what do you need?”

  “Oh, hello. I’m here to meet with Mr. Almos. He’s an acting coach. I’ve never been here before.”

  “Oh, yes,” she said. “He’s just up the stairs, down the hall, to the right. You can’t miss it. It’s the hottest room in the building.”

  He laughed. “Oh, great. Thank you.”

  He didn’t take his eyes off Vivien. She tried to look away from him, but her gaze met his in a way she couldn’t fully understand.

  “What’s your name?” he asked.

  Vivien put her hand out. “Hi, I’m Vivien. This is my son Gavin.”

  Gavin glared at the pretty boy like a lizard who needed his tongue pulled out.

  “I’m Nathan,” he said, not taking his eyes off Vivien. “I’m sorry, but you look really familiar. Are you an actress?”

  “No, I’m a casting director actually. My son here is the actor.”

  “You’re a casting director?” he asked, not paying any attention to Gavin. “Well that’s a shame. You’re way too beautiful to be behind the scenes.”

  Vivien looked at the young man as if she had just been shot in the chest with Cupid’s arrow.

  “You’re too kind,” she said. “Anyway, we have to go.”

  “OK. Nice meeting you.” He started walking up the stairs.

  Gavin turned to his mother with a look of sheer horror. “Mom, I think that guy was into you.”

  Vivien chuckled. “No, he wasn’t. I’m a casting director, honey. Actors do it all the time. They try to get me all hot and bothered, just so they can get a part in one of my movies. It’s sad, really.”

  Vivien had received glowing reviews about her face and body from other actors before, but the compliments usually rang false. This sweet talk had felt genuine.

  And without that chin blemish, she thought, that kid would be hot.

  She shrugged and reminded herself she was happily married, with a son old enough to be that actor’s best friend.

  But as she walked out of the building into the blistering August heat, some sinful thoughts started entering Vivien’s head.

  And she was liking it.

  -3-

  The Jacuzzi could be found in the backyard past the cement hole known as the pool and in front of the giant mound of dirt known as the grass. It had been installed a little over a month ago. Vivien’s husband thought it would be the perfect addition to the backyard for those cold autumn nights and those freezing winter months that Los Angeles received… pretty much never. Vivien didn’t believe it was necessary, but her husband had wads of cash to shoot out of his pecker, and she ultimately figured they might as well go somewhere.

  Her husband’s name was Patrick Hess, a graduate of the University of California Los Angeles School of Dentistry, 1984. He had started his own dental practice in Valencia in 1985. Upon the advic
e of one of his patients, Patrick attended a casting call for a feature film in 1992 that was looking for real doctors and dentists for a mockumentary that was to star both Robin Williams and Christopher Guest. The film was never to be, but at his second audition, he met Vivien. She turned down his request for a date more than twenty times, until finally she gave in and allowed him to take her to her favorite sushi restaurant in Westwood.

  Three months later they were married.

  Vivien was similar to Patrick in many ways. They both liked to calm down after a long day of work by not saying much of anything to each other. They hated to travel and only took vacations when forced to by others. And they both hated the sun.

  But the one area that Vivien and Patrick always strongly differed was in the subject of children. Vivien didn’t want any; Patrick wanted two. They fought about the issue for the first years of their marriage, but eventually Patrick gave in and decided he loved Vivien enough to not push the subject any further. They discussed adopting—Vivien loved the idea of adding a young teenager to the family, one that was already potty trained, matured, and halfway through high school—but their conversations would never go further than the kitchen table. After being married for five years, Patrick seemed satisfied with the looming truth that he would never be a father.

  When Vivien’s best friend Lila became engaged for the third time, she and her fiancée threw a party down in Malibu at a fabulous resort-style mansion, one of those extravagant places with fountains, tennis courts, and a helicopter pad. There was dancing, karaoke, even some stripping, and by the end of the night, Vivien and Patrick were two sixteen-year-olds letting loose. When Vivien opened her eyes in the morning, she knew something was different. The house, which had just hours before been raging with activity, was silent. The morning sunlight was barely cracking over the horizon. Vivien put her hands on her face to feel her cheeks dirty from dried sweat. She felt as gross as a Mexican whore.

  Gavin was born eight months later.

  When they arrived home, Gavin threw on his green trunks and ran over to the Jacuzzi. He had been using it every single night, despite the mildly hot temperatures outside under the summer stars.

  Vivien opened the back door in the kitchen to let outside the family dog Buster, a black Spanish Mastiff who was Gavin’s second love next to his mother.