CHAPTER 1: Gonna be in episodic stages, kind of like the way Dickens used to publish things in Household Words way back in the late
1800s). It’s called Uselysses an OddEssay on my struggles to find
success in the movie biz (ugh, what a terrible curse! why didn’t I want
to do something easy like be an astronaut?). Anyway, it began in
Melbourne Australia where I managed to land a job with the Australian
Broadcasting Corporation (the ABC, but not the U.S. version) at their
Ripponlea Studios center. My job title was Location Assistant, and the
duties entailed driving cast members to and from the studio to whatever
location we were filming at on any given day. It was an easy gig – drive
them to location, sit around and watch filming until it was time to
take someone back to the studio. I got to meet some Aussie stars (but
these were in the days before Nicole Kidman or Russell Crowe were stars
so not them), and I worked with Kylie Minogue before she was ever heard
of. She told me she had gotten the role by accident and was planning on
going to college after shooting was completed. The next I heard of her
was a few years later, when I was working in London. I was listening to
this happy little pop song on the radio and when it ended the DJ
announced it was by new Aussie singing sensation Kylie Minogue. I was
like, wow, so much for college and good for Kylie. Boy, I wish I knew
her nowadays.
Anyway, I had this job for about two years and worked on a couple of
shows before I decided it wasn’t enough work or experience to really
help me out. I interviewed on many films for a job as a runner (the
bottom of the ladder in production) but couldn’t for the life of me
figure out why I couldn’t land a job. I mean, being a runner? I could
handle that in my sleep. To make it sound like I had more experience, I
would say in interviews that in addition to driving the mini bus, I
would also help out on set when able, like helping out the grips and
whatnot. Now, being inexperienced as I was, I had no clue that the
moment I said this whoever was interviewing me knew I was lying. Because
(as I learned later while working on a show in England) it was
absolutely against union rules for anyone not a grip to even touch any
of the equipment or go near it. So I never got a job because no one
bothered to tell me “look dude, I know you’re just trying to get a job,
but when you tell me you helped out the grips I know it’s B.S. so forget
it.” Why couldn’t someone just tell me that? They wouldn’t have to hire
me. Just arm me with the information that could save me in my next
frigging interview. Yeesh!
So I never did get a job as a runner on any Aussie movies. It was
time to head for different shores. I got in touch with a very famous (in
the movie biz) 1st A.D. (that’s a first assistant director) named David
Tomblin who at the time did all of Steven Spielberg’s and George Lucas’
films and asked if he would help get me a job if I came to England. I’d
just read an interview with him in a magazine and he sounded like a
cool guy so I figured I’d send him a letter. Since he’d done a lot of
work on Spielberg’s movies I figured I’d call Amblin Entertainment’s
offices and see if they had an address for him. Their receptionist put
me through to someone’s office and when I explained to the girl who
answered that I wanted to find out where to write to David Tomblin she
said – and this is no word of a lie: “well he’s standing right behind me
so would you like to talk to him?” Hell, I didn’t want to talk to the
guy! I wanted to figure out how to present my case and put it all in an
extremely well-written letter that he wouldn’t be able to ignore. So
like an idiot I said: “Sure, I’d love to talk to him.” He got on the
phone and I stuttered my way through an introduction and then managed to
tell him I was gonna go to England and try and get a job in the movie
business. He told me I was crazy. But he said if I went to England he
would meet with me and try and help me get a job (told you he was a cool
guy). He did warn me that there was no guarantee (is there ever?) and
that I shouldn’t go to England merely on the hopes that he could get me
onto a movie crew. I told him I was getting nowhere in Australia and
that I was off to England no matter what. So he gave me his number in
London and said call him when I got there. So I bought a plane ticket
and off I went (well, it was a little more detailed and a helluva lot
harder than that makes it sound but these are the broad strokes here).
Next chapter: London...
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