Michael Whitehall - Tales of an Actors Agent

www.apostrophebooks.com

For Hilary, Jack, Molly and Barney

Contents

Acknowledgements5

Prologue5

1. Keeping Up Appearances6

2. A Little Learning15

3. Those Who Cant, Teach24

4. The Agent Comes of Age33

5. Hanging Fire41

6. The Dilettantes of St Jamess47

7. Private Lives53

8. Financial Affairs62

9. They Come, They Go, Who Called?71

10. Poacher Turned Gamekeeper84

Pictures84

Copyright87

About the author87

Actors live in fear of being resented by their agents for taking 90 per cent of the money they earn

I was on holiday in Spain with Judi Dench and her husband, Michael Williams.

During supper in Puerto Banus, Judi slipped away from the table and returned with a present for me.

A set of sharks teeth.

Dentadum de Tiburon , said Judi. Very appropriate for an agent. Put them on your desk.

Theyve been there ever since.

Acknowledgements

Without Hugh Massingberds encouragement, I would never have written this book; and without his timely introduction to Andreas Campomar and Gerard Noel, it would never have been published. Andreas seamlessly combined the roles of publisher, editor and literary adviser with great aplomb.

As a first-time writer, I have needed constant help and advice; this I have received in abundance from Gyles and Michele Brandreth, Christopher Matthew, Nigel Williams, Edwin and Anne Mullins, Jennifer Laidlaw, Conrad Williams and Jane Mays. My thanks to them all, and to Neil Stacy who read the manuscript and gave me much valuable guidance. I must also salute my son Jack for his brilliant, original and skilful illustrations.

Sadly, I have no agent to grovel to, so I reserve my special thanks for Hilary who has put up with me for over twenty years, and miraculously continues to do so. She even laughs at my anecdotal ramblings, which she has heard a thousand times before. To describe her as long-suffering would be wholly inadequate. I dedicate this book to her and our wonderful children.

Prologue

The trouble with St Johns Church, Withyham, was that it wasnt in Withyham. There was a church in Withyham but it wasnt St Johns, which was in the middle of the Ashdown Forest, tucked away in the undergrowth. There were a lot of late arrivals at our wedding. The best man, Nigel Havers, arrived just as the service began, so there was no help from him in keeping the bridegroom calm and relaxed. The bride, Hilary, was late too, but not as late as the best man.

After the service, Nigel told me that hed had a row with his wife, Caro, about routes, so much so that they had lost their way three times. His newly wedded agent hoped that Nigel would calm down by the time he got to the reception.

There were more late arrivals at the reception held at Hilarys parents house in Crowborough; as I waited for the presentation queue to form, James Fox beckoned me over to the side of the marquee.

Have you got a moment? he asked. I just wondered if youd heard back from Rose about the Spanish film? (Rose Tobias Shaw was an American casting director with a rather flaky reputation.)

No I havent, but Im sure it will be fine.

Its a good part, dont you think? You liked the script, didnt you?

Absolutely, James.

And it is an offer, isnt it?

Sure, I said.

Judi Dench stuck her head around the corner. Did you know theres a wedding reception going on in there, Michael? she said and disappeared.

Will the money be any good? asked James.

Well, I havent actually talked.

Nigel appeared hot and flustered. We got bloody lost again. God, Caros hopeless at navigating. I said Crow- borough not Crowhurst. Are you ready to receive?

Absolutely, I replied. See you in a moment.

Will I get top billing? said James.

Im going to have to dash, James. Can we talk later?

Of course we can, Michael. Youve got better things to do, I quite understand. But if you hear anything while youre away you will let me know, wont you?

Michael, come on, said Nigel. The vicar is boring the pants off Tom Courtenay.

It must be a nightmare being an actors agent, said John Wells as I walked with him towards the marquee. Everyone pretending to be your friend when in fact all they want is for you to get them a decent job with loads of money.

No, no, John, I replied, its not a nightmare. I love actors. Theyre great.

After the speeches, I was talking to a friend of Hilarys father.

It must be very glamorous swanning around the world, visiting film locations, he said.

Yes, there is a bit of that, but most of its pretty humdrum and boring; a bit like working in a bank.

Im a bank manager, actually, and I find it very interesting, he replied. Ive just been having a long chat with Nigel Haverss fathers bodyguard, whos thinking of changing banks. Charming man. Now theres an interesting job, bodyguard to the Attorney General.

My mother, Nora, had of course come to the wedding and spent most of the day looking for Stewart Granger. Shed never wanted me to be an agent. Mucking about with actors wont get you anywhere, dear, she used to say. Get yourself a proper job.

She was bitterly disappointed that I never completed my articles with Williams & James, Solicitors of Grays Inn, failed my Bar exams, and drifted in and out of various media jobs. It was my lazy streak coming through, she used to say. In any case, she definitely didnt like the notion of my being an agent, and it was only when she heard I was representing Stewart Granger that she began showing some interest in the whole thing. She loved Stewart Granger - though probably not as much as he loved himself- and adored all his films: The Man in Grey, King Solomons Mines, Scaramouche, Bhowani Junction . Now there was a real film star.

Unfortunately, Jimmy Granger didnt turn up at the wedding - maybe he got lost - so Nora had to make do with Sandy Gall, another great favourite of hers, but not quite in the same league.

I bumped into Anton Rodgers on my way to the house to change.

Great wedding, Mike! Remind me where youre going on honeymoon? Sardinia, isnt it?

No, the Seychelles, actually, but were spending a couple of nights in Bath first.

Do you mind if I have your numbers... y-you know, just in case?

Of course, ring me any time.

Well I wont disturb you unless it is something urgent. To be honest I need a job. You know its been three months since I finished the series. I thought this was going to be a really good year but its turning out to be a disaster.

As we were changing there was a knock at the door.

Weve got to dash Michael, said Nigel. Were spending the weekend with the parents in Suffolk and at this rate well be there at midnight. Im going to let Caro drive and do my own navigating this time. Give me a call next week... you never know, we might have heard back from ITV.

On our way to the Priory Hotel in Bath, I mused on John Wellss remarks and the fine line between client and friend. Were any of these people really my friends? Or were they just fair-weather friends? With a few exceptions, maybe not friends for life but certainly friends for the life of their next contract.

As Hilary and I lay on the bed talking about the day and getting ready for our first night of wedded bliss, a note was slipped under the door.

Rose Tobias Shaw had called and left a message. They had gone with Lloyd Bridges, but would James be interested in playing the friend? Shed ring me in the morning.

I turned out the light.