Read The Mailroom: Hollywood History from the Bottom Up Online
Authors: David Rensin
It’s just my personal opinion, but the caliber of trainee hired these days seems different. They seem to feel
entitled
as opposed to wanting to
work
for something. In the past, they worked hard and developed relationships. These days, because of connections, some people inherit the relationships without having to do anything for them. Being hired here and getting a desk is only a third of the battle. The rest is making your way through the ranks, and yet I get the impression from some of the new trainees, when they want to become assistants or work at other companies, that their attitude is “I’m a trainee. Why
wouldn’t
you want me?”
Maybe the difference between my generation and earlier ones is that we haven’t had that much hardship. We don’t know what it’s like to really work. In the nineties we saw a lot of wealth come fast, especially to young people. It was easy for us. We had freaky ideas for the Internet and then sold them to these old venture-capitalist guys for millions of dollars. Or a very young director makes a movie that rivals Spielberg at the box office, but not in quality.
There’s a lot of surface but not much yet beneath the surface. It comes too fast.
I wanted to keep moving up. After a lot of hard work, being tested by agents like I was on trial, and, to be honest, the process of elimination, I became the departmental coordinator in Talent. I wanted to step up to that not only because I like a challenge but because I could finally see down the road to what kind of person I’d be. I’m not sure they really wanted to give me the job at first, but I did the work, a lot of people vouched for me, and I got it. I think some others were really shocked because when you meet me you think I’m this docile little person. I just look that way.
I came to William Morris just to check things out. When I realized I could be really successful I was seduced. All my life I’d been good at just about everything—and lucky—but I always wondered what I’d be
really great
at. What did God or fate have in store for me?
I’m in my mid-twenties. I recently got promoted to agent. Now I’m very invested in this company. Maybe because I’m young I feel the familial bond more than others, but this is all I know. Some people see it as a stepping-stone, but not me. I’m very committed.
I’m like the kids who started in the mailroom long ago: I can’t imagine working anywhere else.
ALEX CHAICE
is a TV talent agent at William Morris.
KELLY ANNEMAN
was an assistant in the William Morris Talent Department until she left the agency to pursue a career in interior design. She is “incredibly happy for the first time in a long time.”
ESTHER CHANG
was promoted to talent agent in the Motion Picture Department in August 2001. “I’m extremely fulfilled in my new position and very proud to be a part of this company,” she says. “I’ve discovered the sweet satisfaction of reaching a goal and seeing the challenge of the many goals ahead.”
I
looked
down
to
the
clear
nearby
ocean
bottom
and
saw
the
sea
urchins
encased
in
their
rocky
prisons.
When
small
they
had
found
an
opening
in
the
rock
and
gone
into
its
wider
comfort
for
protection.
Now
adult
and
fat,
they
were
trapped
inside
and
could
only
wait
for
the
slow passing
currents
to
bring
them
food.
Here
they
would
pass
their
placid
lives,
prisoners
in
the
rock,
fed
by
driftings
tidal-wet.
—from
The Flesh Peddlers: A Novel About a Talent Agency,
Stephen Longstreet, 1962
Acknowledgments
Writing a book is like starting in the mailroom—and much else in life: you do it from the bottom up. The blank page fills with words, uncertainty gives way to confidence, questions become answers. But contrary to the conventional wisdom, a book is never a solitary endeavor. An oral history, which is more like a film—drama, comedy, mystery, and documentary all squeezed between hard covers—takes a team. I couldn’t have done
The Mailroom
without the collaboration, generosity, wisdom, patience, trust, and just plain help of so many.
I’m especially grateful to Cynthia Price, who was with me from beginning to end on what often seemed like a Möbius strip. Without her considerable talents this book would not have been finished before the
next
millennium. She listened, read, critiqued, and improved. Her value cannot be overstated; just try making sense of more than two hundred interviews on your own. Now she can get back to her garden and her life. May they bloom. Thanks also to her husband, District Attorney Joshua Marquis, for understanding her absences—and for having truth, justice, and the American Way to keep him occupied.
I’m equally appreciative of Brian DeFiore. His excellent representation, unwavering inspiration, uncanny intuition, great laugh, and willingness to take all my phone calls made all the difference. He sparked this project when, while I was developing another book, I sent him an e-mail hoping, at a low point, to elicit a gratuitous pat on the back. “Did I ever tell you about my idea for a book on the mailroom?” I wrote. “It would be an oral history of that mythical place many of the show business greats and most of the people who run Hollywood got started.” Brian responded, “No. You never told me about the ‘mailroom’ idea and if I were you I’d drop everything and pursue that!” And so I did. Serves me right. I also owe Laurie Abkemeier for her steadfast friendship and for sending me Brian’s way. It’s been very good.
I am deeply indebted to every mailroom graduate and former trainee—there are many—who had the courage to tell me everything and contribute unselfishly their time and recollections to this endeavor. Regrettably, not all appear. To those whose presence and influence are felt throughout these pages but are nonetheless missing in action: It has everything to do with space limitations. No more, no less. The same applies to those who are now asking themselves, “Why didn’t he call me?”
The Mailroom
could easily have been more than twice as long—and at one point it was—but the idea was always to be able to pick up the book with only one hand. I know you understand.
For moral support, thoughtful encouragement, always being in my corner, or just because: thanks to Bernie Brillstein; Bill Zehme, the Cadence King; Lisa Kusel, a mirror and a miracle; Carrie Brillstein; Mark S. Roy; Dennis Klein; Joe Rensin and family; the Peterson family; Apryl Prose and Wylie; Mauro DiPreta; Jennifer Gates; Christina Berger; Catherine Crier; Chris Calhoun; Peter Kaufman; Linda Thompson; Eric Zohn; Luisa Mercado; Larry King; Louis and Cynthia Zamperini and family; John Davies; Team Yanni for their patience; Nancy Steen and Mike McManus; Carole and Tony Miller, Victor Prussack and the brand-new Loy; Diana Price; John Rezek and Steve Randall, the best teachers; Arthur Kretchmer; Judd Klinger; Jane Ayer; Neal Preston; Cameron Crowe; Hilary DeVries; Amy Alkon; Cathy Seipp; Loni Specter; Greg McClave; Kathy Anderson; Holly Edmonds; Special Agent Jennifer A. Laurie; Gravtee; and—always—Mom. I miss you, Pop.
For opening doors, helping make the sale, sharing crucial insights, and showing the way: thanks to Bernie Brillstein, George Shapiro, Howard West, Irwin Winkler, Rob Carlson, Sandy Wernick, Hilly Elkins, Kelly Anneman, Bob Crestani, Judy Hofflund, Gerry Harrington, Ron Meyer, Norman Brokaw, Jim Wiatt, Don DeMesquita, Sam Haskell, John Hartmann, Jack Rapke, Michael Peretzian, Brian Medavoy, Tom Strickler, Leigh Brillstein, Jay Sures, Marc Gurvitz, David Lonner, Arthur Axelman, Don Faber, Jaimie Roberts, Mike Rosenfeld Sr., Mike Rosenfeld Jr., Donna Chavous, Reuben Cannon, Jeremy Zimmer, Gary Cosay, Dan Adler, Andrea Galvin, Peter Safran, Mark O’Connor, Robert Offer, Elliot Roberts, Rick Nicita, Lee Kernis, Tim Sarkes, the late Mr. Arthur Trefe, Lou Weiss, Cynthia Shelton-Droke, Bob Shapiro, Toni Howard, Ron West, Andrew Cohen, Alan Berger, Jeff Wald, Sandy Gallin, Ben and Paula Press, Rob Kim, Sue Naegle, Marty Bowen, Matt Tolmach, David Manpearl, Joel Gallen, Steven and David Konow, Kassie Evashevski, Peter Bart, Tom King, and Frank Rose. For advice and consensus: Kim Masters, Bernard Weinraub, Paul Brownfield, Rick Marin, and James R. Petersen. Gina Centrello, Peter Borland, Tracy Bernstein, Tracy Brown, Victoria Robinson, Deirdre Lanning, and the entire Ballantine team outdid themselves getting this book to the finish line. Thanks to Courtney Kemp, Kristin Lootens, and Krista Smith for the info in the nick of time. Laura Sapp, Michael Davison, and Peter Reynolds at USA Networks were patient and encouraging. Thanks to Barry Diller for coming through, to the always charming Priscila Giraldo in David Geffen’s office, and to David Geffen for trust early in the game.
To all the assistants who answered the phones, listened patiently, took the messages, and kept me on the call sheet: This book is for you. It’s also for everyone who hired you, trained you, terrorized, tolerated, and nurtured you.
A vente percent thanks to Starbucks at Santa Monica Boulevard and Wilshire Boulevard in Beverly Hills for caffeine and a comfortable chair.
As always, nothing I do is possible without the love, patience, grace, loyalty, and joy in life so freely given by my wife, Suzie Peterson, and son, Emmett Rensin. People may tell me everything, but you both mean everything to me.
About the Author
DAVID RENSIN is the coauthor of show business legend Bernie Brillstein’s widely lauded memoir,
Where Did I Go Right?,
as well as Olympian Louis Zamperini’s World War II survival saga,
Devil at My
Heels,
and composer/performer Yanni’s memoir,
Yanni in Words.
Rensin also cowrote Tim Allen’s #1 bestseller
Don’t Stand Too Close to a
Naked Man
and his follow-up bestseller,
I’m Not Really Here.
Rensin has cowritten bestsellers with Chris Rock, Jeff Foxworthy, and Garry Shandling, and he coauthored a groundbreaking humorous sociology of men named Bob called
The Bob Book.
He lives in Los Angeles with his wife and son.
David Rensin would like to hear from you about this book and/ or your own experience of starting at the bottom—anywhere—while dreaming of the top. Write him at [email protected] and check out the Web site,
www.tellmeeverything.com
, as well.
A Ballantine Book
Published by The Random House Publishing Group
Copyright © 2003 by David Rensin
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. Published in the United States by The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York, and simultaneously in Canada by Random House of Canada Limited, Toronto.
Ballantine and colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.
Library of Congress Control Number is available upon request from the publisher.
eISBN : 978-0-307-41722-0
v1.0