It’s the beginning of my second week of work at Carsey/Werner. My phone rings at 6:45 AM. I know who it is,
“Hi mom,” I say groggily.
She calls me every morning and has awakened me since kindergarten. She doesn’t have to now that I’m 32. I could set an alarm, but this is what she does and I expect it and accept it. When I was in junior high and high school and had that golden sleep, deep beneath the surface, she’d wake me up with a cold wet wash cloth to the face and a cup of coffee. Mom waking me up has been a motif my entire life and I like it.
“Are you up?” She says in her soprano voice.
“Yes, I’m up.”
“You don’t sound up. Come on, get ready.”
“No I’m awake”
“Get dressed up, look pretty.”
“Okay, I love you mom.”
“I love you too darling. Call me later. . . ”
I rise up on my elbows. I take a moment or two to completely wake up, then put my feet on the ground and get out of bed. I have an obsessive fear that something will happen to my mother. She had a massive coronary when I was in Italy and I keep waiting for the second shoe to drop; for her to have another heart attack. I don’t know what I will do without her. Julia has a similar enmeshed relationship with her mother, so she gets it and doesn’t think It’s weird or odd that my mother wakes me up every morning. Our mothers are our best friends. Julia is already in the bathroom brushing her teeth.
“You up?” she calls out—like a second mother. And I’m okay with being mothered. The more mothers, the better. And I haven’t yet put it together that the reason I feel like a child doing a grownup’s job has something to do with my dependence on my mother.
I go downstairs to the kitchen and grab a Cheers coffee mug out of the cabinet and make a pot of coffee that I will drink most of before I leave. Julia doesn’t drink coffee. Saffy follows me down the stairs and stares at me. She wants to be fed. I grab her little bowl and fill it with her food. I put it down and give her fresh water while the coffee’s brewing. I’m not yet that addicted to opiates that I need them first thing in the morning. I can control my use. Taking only a couple throughout the day will keep me comfortable. I know that once I take one, I will crave the whole bottle—I can’t stop anything once I start—so I place only three pills in a little box in my purse to take to work.
I pee in the downstairs bathroom waiting for Julia to be done in the bathroom upstairs. Saffy, still only a puppy—3 months old—pees on her pee pee pads which she’s very good about. Never missing or going on the carpet. The coffee’s ready and I pour a heaping mug and go back upstairs with little Saffy trailing behind me. It’s always as if Saffy’s attached to my heel by an imaginary string. She follows me everywhere. Saffy and I will go through so much together in times to come, but these are our golden days bathed in sunlight. We were young. I wish I’d appreciated how happy I was at the time.
Julia is dressed and ready to leave for work. She has a longer drive to UCLA than my three minute trip to work, as my office is just down the street on the CBS Radford lot. I kiss her good-bye and tell her to have a good day. She does the same. She’s going to do God’s work. Serious work. I find it so admirable and I’m proud of her. Then I examine the Norco bottle I purloined from to open house. Should I take one now? Why not? I grab one pill and I wash it down with coffee and wait for the warm feeling of protection that will come over me. The feeling of stability and energy and confidence. Within 20 minutes I feel the glow of the pill. I feel calm yet energized. I feel safe.
I get dressed. Elegant yet understated. I pick a pair of Jimmy Choo’s I just purchased and put them on knowing that a day in heels can be hell. I go down to my car and make the three minute trip down Ventura to Radford where I make a right and drive onto the CBS Radford lot. Carsey/Werner is in the first building you come to, nestled behind a row of fluffy pine trees. Trees in California remind me of New Jersey, my home, and make me feel like I’m home. My townhouse also has a huge pine tree in front of our window which is all you see when you look out. Seeing only a dense massive pine out my window also makes me feel I’m home.
I have two things to accomplish this week: hire an assistant and read actors for a role in a pilot we’re doing, written by two hot young writers. I pass Billy at the front desk and say “Good morning,” and let him know that actors will be coming up to read and I’ll give him a list of names. Also, this morning, people will be coming up to interview for my assistant job. The head of development wants to have input into who I hire for my assistant, which I don’t quite understand, as this will be my assistant, but he micromanages everything which I know I will grow to hate.
The assistant candidates arrive first. I meet with several lovely people, many of whom could do the job. There are three that I feel confident have the experience, brains, and poise needed, but I’m partial to a young man named Jack whom I’d be ready to hire on the spot. He was my number one choice. He came in wearing khakis an Oxford shirt and loafers. He worked for a very tough agent at ICM. He has an undergraduate degree from Yale. His personality was confident yet unobtrusive and I sensed we’d get on well. I asked him to wait while I ran across the hall to tell head of development I found someone I think is perfect for the job and did he have time to meet him now? He did. I brought Jack across the hall. Head of development asked a couple of perfunctory questions barely acknowledging him. Then said thank you and dismissed him as quickly as possible. When Jack left, head of development looked at me as though I’d just shit on his shoes and said, “No. He’s not it.” Though he didn’t offer a reason why he wasn’t it. When I asked. He just shook his head and made a sour face.
I brought him several other candidates and his reactions were basically the same. Again offering no explanation, but looking at me with an air of disgust as if he were saying, these are a string of losers I’m bringing you. Please pick one. After a week of this he was wearing me down. I wanted to say, You just find someone asshole, I’ll stay out of it, even though this is my assistant.
Finally head of development said that there were two girls from within the company he wanted to meet. I had to concede that he’d be picking my assistant. One was a pretty girl named Elizabeth and the other, a pretty girl named Amy. We met with them in his office. They were both fine and could do the job. I’d be happy with either but was leaning toward Elizabeth. Head of development asked who I liked and I said, “No who do you like?.” Since it had become clear that that the choice was his. Just pick one!!! I wanted to scream after a week of his hating everyone. He hemmed and hawed and said he had to think about it. Neither had worked with talent before but Amy and Elizabeth were bright and knew actors from watching television.
He said he’d give me an answer in a day or so. Again I wanted to say: You’re not signing the Magna Carta, you’re picking my assistant, which I need already to help me do my job, I don’t know why you need a couple of days to mull it over. After two days he “settled” for Elizabeth, and made it clear he was settling, acting very distressed and unsure of the decision. I was happy just to have an assistant. I would have settled for John Wilkes Booth at this point, but was pleased to have Elizabeth who was bright, articulate and I liked her taste in actors. I’d asked her to name an actor she liked and she mentioned an actor on who did a guest appearance on Seinfeld. He was spot on in the role and very funny. I really liked her choice.
But on that first day I returned to my office defeated in the assistant category. The afternoon was devoted to reading actors for the role of the mother in the pilot we’re doing which was a spoof on Alexander The Great. It’s unlikely the actors I’m reading will end up getting the role. The role will probably be an offer, most likely to a Brit who is an offer only (meaning they don’t audition). Someone like Prunella Scales, or an actor who reads for producers only. In other words they don’t pre-read for the casting director. But sometimes I’m surprised and find someone great in pre-reads who ends up getting the part. That happened with Jane Lynch and Sharon Lawrence on Cheers. I’d pre-read them and they went on to be major TV stars.
The plot of the pilot is simple: Alexander’s boyfriend, Hephaistion (pronounced Hep-es-TEE-on) has summoned Alexander back from India under false pretenses, because he’s throwing a surprise birthday party for him. Alexander is very angry because it’s a long a treacherous trip back from India which he’s in the middle of conquering. The scene we are reading is between Alexander and his mother, Olympias, a powerful and calculating woman. The actors are given the “sides” which are scenes from the script they’ll be reading showing a “side” of the character. I read all the other parts: Alexander, Hephaision.
An actor comes in. She’s done a lot of TV work. I ask her to have a seat, introduce myself, and ask if she has any questions.
“Just one, how big do you want me to go with this?” She asks.
“Good question. Keep it real. Don’t go too broad with it, let the words dictate where you go a bit bigger.”
“Got it”
Why don’t we read it standing up? I say. We both stand and read the following sides:
Alexander
What was I saying?
Hephaistion
That no one upsets you as much as
I do.
Antipholis
Or I do.
A LOUD CLUNK is heard off stage.
Woman’s voice (o.s.)
Dammit Uva you’re such a klutz.
They recognize the voice.
Alexander
Except the world’s preeminent pain in the ass, my mother.
AD LIBS: “DRATS”, “WHERE’ THE CLOSEST EXIT?”, “DOES SHE KNOW I’M STILL ALIVE?” ETC.
WITH THAT OLYMPIAS ENTERS, MOTHER TO ALEXANDER. SHE IS TALL, COMMANDING, BEAUTIFUL, AND PROBABLY A MEMBER OF THE ROYAL SHAKESPEARE COMPANY DOING A GREEK ACCENT.
ALEXANDER, HEPHAISTION, ANTIPHOLIS WAVE SHEEPHISHLY FROM THE OTHER SIDE OF THE ROOM. OLYMPIAS CROSSES.
Olympias
So It’s true. You did come back from Persia.
Alexander
India mother. I’d love to stay and catch up but
can this wait? I’ve had a long and painful journey.
Olympias
Well I never told you to drag your tush across the
Hindu Kush.
Alexander
Really mother . . .
Olympias
And speaking of long journeys, have I ever
told you what the first 14 years of your life
were like?
Alexander
Mother not here, not now.
Olympias
You were obsessed with war and the theater.
How many times can one sit through the Oresteia?
Alexander
Mom, love ya’, gotta go.
Olympias
Wait!!!
Alexander stops in his tracks.
Olympias (Con’t)
You’ve been gone 12 long years and not one
letter! Egypt all out of papyri?
Alexander
Mother I’ve been changing the shape of the world.
I’m broadening everyone’s horizons.
Olympias
Aren’t you sick of looking at real estate?
Alexander
Mother can we talk about all this later?
Olympias
You brush me aside after all the sacrifices I’ve
made for you?
Alexander
What sacrifices?
Olympias
Getting you the best tutors. Riding lessons.
Staying up all night when you had the croup.
Murdering your father. The little things a mother does.
You’ve named two cities after yourself and one
after your horse but . . . Where’s my name on the map????
Alexander
Okay we’re done. I’m sending you back to
your chambers.
Olympias
Chambers, that’s a fancy name for a room over the garage.
Alexander
Bye mom.
Olympias
Okay I’m leaving. One last thing: Are you
wearing that? I’m taking you shopping.
SHE EXITS.
FADE OUT
The actor reading the scene was good, a seasoned pro. I may bring her to the producers so they can see who’s out there locally. Who knows? She may even end up with the part, although, as I mentioned, I think the role will be offered to a British actor. With most pilots, the leads usually don’t come out of auditions. They are offered to actors who don’t audition.
Eventually Elizabeth begins working as my assistant and I’m grateful to have an assistant. I like her and can tell we’ll get on well together. I bring her into readings with me when it’s not too busy so she can learn actors and how I work with them.