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Friday 9 January 2009

A daunting experience

Tom Hollander’s first meeting with a theatrical agent didn’t turn out quite how he expected

I walked into a swanky office building on Wardour Street suitably named Paramount House and entered the offices of Duncan Heath Associates. At the switchboard sat an extremely attractive girl with no clothes on. I froze and stared at the floor. A life in showbiz was clearly going to be even more exciting than I had hoped. While pretending to study the poster for A Room with a View on the wall behind her desk, I sneaked another look at her. Actually, she wasn’t completely naked. She was wearing underwear, and an expression of complete indifference. Over her underwear was a ‘dress’ made from white string. Not very much string.

Once in the agent’s office I sat on a low chair in front of an enormous desk. It was difficult to see over it. I was excited but disadvantaged. Facing me from the other side of the desk was a striking-looking man in an expensive shirt and brightly coloured braces. He had intensity. He had charisma. And he had a state-of-the-art phone headset like Madonna’s.

‘You were great in that show. I didn’t see the second half ’cos I had to go but you were great. Right?’ His manner of speaking was very loud and rapid.

‘Er...thank you.’

‘No, I said, “Do you write?”’ He was shouting for some reason. ‘’Cos if you do we can cover that for you.’

I was clearly an idiot. I needed to shape up. I needed to shout as well. ‘No!’ I yelled back.

He banged the table decisively and addressed the room. ‘A man who knows his mind. I like that!’ he yelled.

Various beautiful assistants simpered in agreement. This was great. This was like a film. Here I was in the big city and I was holding my own. I was a man who knew his mind.

‘What do you want to do?’ he demanded loudly.

‘Um, well...what do you mean...?’

‘Listen to me. You’re talented but you’re difficult to cast because you’re not tall. So what we’re gonna do is, we’re gonna make you famous and then you’ll be able to do anything you want.’

That sounded like an excellent plan. I was thrilled that the process of making me famous was merely a formality. I nodded seriously and tried not to look too exited.

‘Sally, what is there for Tom in the new Merchant Ivory project? Set up a meeting.’ He never spoke at less than full volume.

The assistant moved over to a wall of floor-to-ceiling shelving stacked with scripts for every play and every film and every TV show in the world. She grabbed one with Maurice written on it. And another one that said A Handful of Dust.

‘Call Celestia and tell her there’s a new boy in town and she needs to meet him.’

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