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THE GRASS IS BROWN ON BOTH SIDES OF THE FENCE

Seven Days in the Mouth of the Lion (part 4)

I woke to the phone ringing. It was she of the shoes telling me that they wanted to see me again at 10am tomorrow.
Whaaaatttttt????
You have got to be kidding. Something like that was my reaction. Shoes then told me that I was to stay there, and she would get someone to ring me back. About an hour later the phone rang and it was the ‘Ok that’s enough’ charm boat of a director. He then asked me what did I need?
I knew what I needed. To be going back home on a plane. But I figured that was not what he wanted to hear. I said something along the lines of, forget what I need and that whatever it was that he needed, I didn’t have. He again asked me what was it that I needed. I replied saying that I wanted to talk.

‘You want to talk?’ he said, incredulous. For the first time, I felt that a bit of power was on, so I said it again ‘Yeah I want to talk about it.’ Not that I knew what about, myself. He said he’d ring me back and hung up. When he did, he said he had a meeting, but would be home at 8.30 tonight and to get a cab to his address. The actual address now eludes me. But it was a gated estate, and he told me to tell the guard at the gate to page him when I got there. I don’t know why he had paved the way for me to see him, but thought that when he had dismissed me mid-sentence with his rude, ‘Ok that’s enough’ comment, the others in the room would have noticed my reaction to his remark. Maybe he had been told of the detrimental effect the rudeness had had on me. I may have been wrong about this, but could think of no other reason as to why he was contacting me. As I said, this was just speculation on my part. But the scenario seemed to fit.

Anyway, I duly I arrived at the guardhouse of the estate where the director resided. After the armed guard got the ok from the number he had rung, the barrier went up and the cab driver followed the instructions to the said address. The houses we passed en route reeked of big time, big shot, Hollywood wealth. As the cab pulled into the circular driveway of our destination, the front door of a three-storey house opened, and out stepped the director of Phenom. The front doors were so tall that if you were fifteen feet high you would still not have bumped your head. The illusion made the doorknobs look as if they were a foot off the ground.

He beckoned me into the foyer. Before anyone could speak a dog suddenly tore across the floor - snarling and barking as it slithered to a stop at my feet, where it continued to threaten. The director said nothing but had watched my reaction intently. I had been brought up around dogs and had no real fear of them. But this dog, had it wanted to, could have torn me to pieces. Then another older dog of the same breed appeared, and arthritically walked slowly over to stand alongside the other one. If it could have talked it would have said ‘I used to do the killing around here, but have you met my son-in-law’.
As if told by the older dog, the son-in-law stopped barking. I felt as if I had just gone through yet another audition and I was sick of them. The director still hadn’t said a word. What an arsehole. He pressed a button and an elevator door opened. He beckoned me in, pressed the 3rd floor button, and up we went. When the door opened, we stepped out into what I can only describe as a small nightclub. Some house. There was a dance floor, extensive bar and a dining area that would seat about 60. I was then asked if I wanted a drink. I hadn’t had a drink for three months. It was one of my rare times on the wagon, but I was now in the mood to get off it.

Incidentally, I haven’t been back on it ever since. I could see all sorts of beer brands in the clear glass cabinet behind the bar and nominated a Corona. Then he asked what it was that I wanted to talk about. I took a slug of the cold beer. Oh God it was good. I asked him why I had been summoned for yet another audition, when it was obvious to me that he wasn’t the slightest bit interested in me, or anything that I had to offer. He replied, saying that I was right, but he and James had a long relationship and that James had seen something in me - and when that happens, because James is astute, he was inclined give him the benefit of the doubt.
‘That doesn’t change anything,’ I said. ‘Look at the tissues I left all over the floor - I mean, what does that tell you about me?’ He dismissed that with ‘Oh, everyone does that. To audition in that room is tough. The toughest in the United States’.

I then went back to my original statement, that there was nothing he wanted from me, so why repeat it again tomorrow. He then told me this. ‘We had a guy audition in there and like you, he too stunk the room up.’ (This prick is obviously rude whenever the opportunity presents itself). ‘Anyway, we dismissed him and his agent rang up to say that he wanted to audition again. We didn’t want to see him, but there was a space available so we thought what the hell, and when he came back in he nailed it and is now in the 4th season of a comedy series. So, that’s why we asked you ‘what was it you needed?’ My answer to myself hadn’t changed - a plane out of here. I was not going to be like this other guy who had also stank the room up.

Hollywood was not my scene and never would be. If I didn’t know it before I certainly knew it now. It was then suggested that I go out onto the dance floor, and go through the audition here with him. I did and afterwards he made a couple of comments. One I remember was when he said he liked the way that I had moved my foot on a particular line. I didn’t even know I had. Then he made some comment about my face-licking bit and what was I thinking about, to do that. I then told him it wasn’t my idea and that James had suggested it at my first meeting with him. He just looked at me, and if looks could kill I was dead. He then excused himself and left me sitting on the barstool. I sat there alone in silence for what must have been close to 30 minutes. I don’t know where he went, but I suspected that he might have been talking to James on the phone. I didn’t know for sure, but it seemed the most logical scenario considering the conversation just before he’d gotten up and left.

When he did return, he said that it was getting late and as we both had to be on deck in the morning, it was time to call it a night. He was then quite civil and even walked me to the guardhouse where they would ring me a cab. I was fascinated by the immaculate homes that we passed on the way. He pointed out the odd one that he thought would interest me. Like the one where Spencer Tracy used to live etc.

Apparently, a lot of the houses were for sale, including his own. The rougher, tougher neighbourhoods were encroaching towards them and this was causing concern. At the guard house, he turned into his abrupt self, said he would see me tomorrow, and left me there. The taxi took forever to arrive and although now late, it was great to get back to the sanity that the isolation of my room provided

Next Morning

It was the same routine car journey back to the studio, except that my friend was not there to unlock the gate. His day off maybe. On the way to the waiting room I passed the young man who had filmed my original audition. He seemed surprised to see me and said sympathetically ‘---Oh Gary. They won’t let you go eh?’ Why the concern for me - by the tone of his voice he obviously felt sorry about the fact that I was still around. What had he seen in his time here? The craziness that is Hollywood is never far away and another surprise was lying in wait. As I was following the secretary’s shoes yet again to yet another audition, a young redheaded kid bushwhacked me. He would have been about 13. He appeared out of a doorway and pleaded with me as he grabbed hold of my arm ‘you are going to see James Brooks. Please take me with you.’

Hollywood is a madhouse and I had just witnessed another example of it. Clint Eastwood once said that to be a success there, you had to want it more than anything else on earth. Well that kid seemed to have that need, so you never know. For all I knew I might have just been bailed up by Leonardo DiCaprio.

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