Saturday, June 16, 2001
COLUMN ONE
A Tough Scene for Actors
* For Hollywood's middle class, between big stars and wannabes, life is
one break away from fame and one cut scene away from shame.
By JAMES BATES, CLAUDIA ELLER, Times Staff Writers
Matt
Kimbrough, a burly 49-year-old Silver Lake actor, can run through the
highlights of his two-decade Hollywood career in a few minutes of
scattered videotape.
Look
closely. There he is as the bartender in "Erin Brockovich." Don't
blink. He's playing Annette Bening's gun instructor in "American
Beauty" and a bodyguard in "The Limey." Forget looking for him as Babe
Ruth in "Cobb" or as a villain in the upcoming film "Joy Ride." His
scenes got axed at the last minute.
For
all the setbacks and fleeting frames of film, Kimbrough still makes a
decent living--never less than $25,000, never more than $60,000--and
he's always hopeful about the big break.
"You know, you're one audition and one gig away from something really turning it around for you," he said.
"Kimbrough
is one of the legions of Hollywood's middle-class actors--journeyman
artists who work alongside stars like Julia Roberts, Bruce Willis and
Will Smith. Their names are usually familiar only to relatives and
friends. Many don't earn in a year what famous actors make before
lunch.
The
actors inhabit a boundary zone between the swath of part-time actor
wannabes in L.A. and the sliver of mega-stars who live in Malibu beach
homes, drive Range Rovers and summer in the Hamptons. Unlike about 85%
of the nearly 100,000 Screen Actors Guild members, these middle-class
thespians--roughly 6,000 SAG members in all--actually act for a living.
Their
unsung lives have become the main battleground in the current contract
talks between Hollywood studios and the two acting unions. SAG and the
smaller American Federation of Television and Radio Artists are
negotiating a three-year agreement to replace the existing contract
that expires on June 30.
The
reality is that no one is too worried about Julia Roberts starving to
death, but the surging migration of movie production out of the United
States and erosion of acting wages in recent years have put the lives
of the middle class in a precarious position.
Although
they account for less than 10% of all union actors, the middle class
is, in many ways, the heart and soul of working Hollywood, trudging in
the shadow of stardom for about $30,000 to $70,000 a year. Actors say
they increasingly are offered "scale plus 10"--union rates with an
additional 10% for their agents--by producers looking to trim costs.
Minimum wages for speaking roles are $617 a day and $2,142 a week.
"For
people who work hard and are trying to build up their careers, to be
pushed at scale plus 10--which happens a lot--that's tough," says Kent
Faulcon, a North Carolina native whose credits include roles in "Men in
Black," "American Beauty" and the TV series "Charmed."
The
studios contend that actors aren't so bad off, with more work
opportunities because of expanded television programming and increased
demand overseas for Hollywood's TV shows and films. But for those
struggling in the middle class, it is a weak pitch. They live in modest
apartments and small homes. They drive Mazdas, Buicks and Toyotas. The
highlight of their day is when the cell phone rings with news of an
audition for a TV pilot, a commercial, or, if they're really lucky, a
bit part in a big studio movie. Checks arrive in bursts, ranging from a
few hundred dollars to a few thousand at most.
As Stars Get More, Others Get Less,
It all boils down to a life that, while comfortable, is at once desperate and mundane, grueling and sometimes almost glamorous.
"For
actors like myself there's this kind of fame or shame attitude: If I'm
not famous, then I'm a failure," said Brad Blaisdell, 52, whose film
and TV roles include a detective on "E.R." and a reporter in "The Rat
Pack." "Woody Harrelson and I did a play together. I would hang out
with Woody, see all his stuff and all his success. Then I would get in
my Mazda to go home and feel like I was a failure. Yet I'm an actor who
is in the upper 5% of the Screen Actors Guild in terms of being able to
earn a living."
The
movie industry has always depended on the journeyman performances of
the middle class to keep the wheels of production moving.
After
all, somebody (Matt Kimbrough) has to play such roles as the bartender
(all 50 seconds' worth) in CBS' forgettable 1998 cowboy series "The
Magnificent Seven."
"I
serve whiskey, not talk," snarls Kimbrough's beefy, tough-guy
character. "Better go somewhere else . . . and take him with you."
I'm interested in a man...rides a big gray..,"says one of the show stars.
"Now
I want you out of here before you're thrown out," Kimbrough's character
says just before he is hurled over the bar by the star.
Hollywood's
dependence on the middle class is not what it used to be. Soaring
payments to stars and directors have come to consume a greater share of
film and TV budgets, squeezing the salaries of middle-class actors.
Moreover,
producers are increasingly moving work to places such as Canada,
Australia and New Zealand to save costs, hiring crews and local actors
for lower rates. In lieu of residuals, actors are typically paid a flat
fee outside the U.S. because unions have no jurisdiction there.
Actors
who once spent a week on a production preparing for scenes are now
summoned to the set at the last moment so producers don't have to pay
for rehearsal time. In many cases, stand-ins are used in their place.
Fewer days on a set reduces the amount of residuals actors earn and
makes it harder to accrue the necessary time to qualify for health
benefits.
The
income squeeze is especially nerve-racking because work in Hollywood is
inherently sporadic even in flush times. Actors typically patch
together a living with a buffet of roles that in a given year might
include three to four guest appearances on a TV series, a minor role in
a major film, a stage play and a part pitching products for advertisers
such as Home Depot or McDonald's.
Brushes With Fame Don't Guarantee Wealth
Middle-class
actors who get steady work belong to something of an elite group.
According to numbers SAG computed for The Times, 71% of its members
make less than $7,500 a year, with only 5% making more than $70,000.
"When
you look at how many days we work in a year, it's not a lot," says
Blaisdell, whose earnings have been as much as $120,000 some years and
as little as $35,000 in others. He has supplemented his acting income
by performing at a comedy traffic school and selling office supplies.
"But every day I'm not working, I'm working trying to get work."
Even for those who have had a brush with fame, there is no guarantee that they will have wealth or security.
Emmy-nominated
actress Allyce Beasley, 49, became a household face when she played
receptionist Agnes DiPesto in the 1980s hit series "Moonlighting."
Today, the Brooklyn-born actress supports her writer-husband and
13-year-old son mostly with voice-overs and radio commercials for such
advertisers as Carl's Jr.
"I
rent a little house in the Larchmont area, the shabbiest house on the
block, which is fine by me," she said. "But people think you're a
millionaire because 'Moonlighting' said, 'Also starring Allyce
Beasley.' "
Beasley
says that in the past 12 years since "Moonlighting" ended her annual
income has ranged from $35,000 to $70,000, a fraction of the $500,000
she earned one year when the show was on the air and she was in heavy
demand by advertisers. But after the show ended and she went through a
bitter divorce, she was forced to give up the Hollywood foothills house
she owned and her car.
The truth is, confessed Beasley, "I have barely been able to make ends meet."
She
said it has been a constant struggle to even stay in the middle class.
Rejection is a frustrating and sometimes absurd part of her life. She
has auditioned for voice-over work requiring "an Allyce Beasley type."
It does not help that she is Allyce Beasley.
"Whoever they think I am, that must not be who I am because I never, ever get these jobs," she said.
Beasley
recently landed her first weekly job since "Moonlighting" ended in
1989: a yearlong gig doing voice-over promotions for Disney Channel's
"Playhouse Disney."
Like many actors, she expects union negotiators to thwart any efforts by the studios to cut into actors' compensation.
Protecting
health benefits is especially critical to Beasley, who was diagnosed
and treated for advanced breast cancer three years ago. To keep
working, Beasley said, she hid her postoperative drainage tubes under
her costume during shooting of the film "Stuart Little."
SAG
negotiator Brian Walton said the union's goal in the negotiations is to
"produce a deal that solves the unique problems and meets the unique
needs of middle-income, principal on-camera actors."
Actors
are seeking increases in compensation and benefits, including a 5%
annual boost in minimum pay. Studios want to hold the line at the same
3.5% hike recently granted to writers in an agreement reached last
month.
The
unions also want to give middle-class actors a significant bump in
residuals, the payments that flow like an annuity when their work is
rerun in such markets as cable TV and in foreign countries. Residuals
can account for 30% to 60% of an actor's annual pay and provide income
during down periods.
Blaisdell
said that actors have largely missed out on the new streams of revenue
that have flowed from cable channels, foreign markets and newer
networks such as Fox, the WB and UPN.
The
Internet, which offers yet more possibilities for residuals, has also
injected a new dimension in the contract negotiations. Many actors feel
strongly about the Internet because they contend the unions in the past
failed to recognize the potential of other distribution outlets such as
cable.
"We're being shortchanged," Blaisdell said.
For
all the hopes for this round of contract negotiations, the actors
realize that with so many people fighting for so few jobs and the ease
with which Hollywood has moved overseas, they are in a difficult
position.
It
is a real-life role that they are used to. Actors say they are often
treated like auto parts that can be easily interchanged, giving them
little leverage when hardball producers insist they take or leave a
low-paying role.
When Scenes Are Cut, Residuals Vanish Too
Even
if they do land a gig, middle-class actors know their work may
eventually be cut. Since scenes in a film or TV show are an actor's
calling card, that affects their future job and income prospects. If
cut out altogether, actors collect no residuals.
Much
of the video footage Kimbrough sends to casting agents includes scenes
that never appeared. Kimbrough played Babe Ruth in the 1994 baseball
movie "Cobb," or so he thought until director Ron Shelton sent an
apologetic note in a package that contained a video with his
scenes--all of which had been cut at the last minute.
Last
year, in what he described as his potential "huge break," Kimbrough was
cast in a major role as a villain in "Joy Ride," a John Dahl film by
Fox. After a month of work at $4,000, the studio called saying
Kimbrough's part had been cut and suggesting he agree to have his name
taken off the credits.
Faulcon
was stunned at a screening of the 1999 Oscar-winning film "American
Beauty" to find his part as one of Annette Bening's prospective home
buyers was trimmed to a few seconds, leaving out his lengthy comic
monologue on the dangers of ceiling fans.
The
30-year-old Los Feliz actor faces yet another hurdle--he is African
American. Faulcon, whose annual income falls between $30,000 and
$80,000, sees a dearth of opportunities for minorities. That has been
exacerbated, he said, by the popularity of TV shows such as "Dawson's
Creek" and "Buffy the Vampire Slayer," starring mostly white, young
actors.
The
ultimate indignity is the elimination of an actor's recurring
character. That happened to Kathryn Joosten, 61, a former nurse and
wallpaper hanger who played the secretary to Martin Sheen's President
Jed Bartlet in NBC's hit drama series "The West Wing."
Her
character, Delores Landingham, was killed in a car wreck during a
recent episode. She knew her character's destiny when she received a
call from one of the show's producers requesting a meeting.
"I
thought about it and said: 'That's it. I'm getting killed off. There's
only one reason a producer calls you in,' " Joosten recalled.
Thanks
largely to frequent appearances on "West Wing," Joosten's income last
year peaked at $160,000, well above that of a typical middle-class
actor.
She is back to seeking film and TV roles to maintain her income.
But
it is an endless battle for actors to maintain and improve their
"quote"--the amount they are paid above scale. An actor doing a "guest
star" role on a TV show--where the name appears in the beginning
credits--is loath to take smaller "co-star" parts where credits appear
at the end.
Actors say such co-star roles send a perilous signal to casting directors that their career is on the wane.
"You can be riding high in this business and the next week . . . nothing," Blaisdell said.
* * *
Pay Scale
Most actors don't make the big bucks--far from it--71% make less than $7,500 a year:Under $7,500: 71%
$7,501-$15,000: 10%
$15,001-$30,000: 8%
$30,001-$70,000: 6%
More than $70,000: 5%
Source: Screen Actors Guild
* * *
KENT FAULCON
Age: 30
Car: 1998 Isuzu Rodeo
Home: Rents apartment in Los Feliz.
Annual income: $30,000 to $80,000
Roles:
Parts in TV's "Charmed" and "NYPD Blue" and West Point graduate in "Men
in Black," prospective home buyer in "American Beauty" and father of a
sick child in upcoming Kenvin Costner film "Dragonfly"
ALLYCE BEASLEY
Age: 49
Car: 1998 VW Beetle
Home: Rents house in Larchmont.
Annual income: High of $500,000; usually $35,000 to $70,000
Roles:
Agnes DiPesto in "Moonlighting," Aunt Beatrice Little in movie "Stuart
Little" and Coach's daughter Lisa Pantusso in a memorable "Cheers"
episode.
MATT KIMBROUGH
Age: 49
Car: 1996 Buick Le Sabre
Home: Owns condo in Silver Lake
Annual income: $25.000 to $60,000
Roles: Bartender in "Erin Brockovich," gun instructor in "American Beauty" and parts in TV's "Profiler"
KATHRYN JOOSTEN
Age: 61
Car: 2000 Toyota RAV4
Home: Owns tract house in Mount Washington.
Annual income: Peaked last year at $160,000.
Roles: Delores Landingham in "West Wing," Clare in "Dharma and Greg" and a nun in "Ally McBeal"
BRAD BLAISDELL
Age: 52
Car: 1991 Mazda Protege with 140,000 miles.
Home: Owns townhouse in Sun Valley.
Annual income: As high as $120,000, as low as $35,000.
Roles:
FBI agent in movie "The Negotiator," bartender in "Three's Company" and
reporter punched out by Frank Sinatra in TV's "The Rat Pack"
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