An actor friend of mine was talking about a referral she had been offered by a guy who comes into the restaurant where her “survival job” takes place. This guy was seated with a group of other guys when he called my friend over and proceeded to talk about how she needed to call so-and-so, the personal assistant to big-name-producer. After going on and on about it, he gave her a phone number and made her promise in front of his group of friends that she would call so-and-so so that she could get set up with big-name-producer and have a report to share, the next time he visited her restaurant.
This, my friends, is what Nancy Wolfson calls the “Hero of the Moment.” (I believe she told me that her friend Sherry Klein came up with that phrase.) It’s an epidemic in Hollywood. Someone wants to be cock of the walk, to be some big player, to show off how much power he has (in front of others — almost always in front of others), and to enjoy the thrill of making you feel as though you’ve been given a hand in a town that sometimes feels all about connections.
It may be as simple as, “Oh! You have a meeting with that power agent? Cool! Tell him I said hi,” or as convoluted as the giving out of contact information, coupled with encouragement that you reach out and drop the Hero of the Moment’s name.
A couple of problems here.
One: You have no idea what the relationship may actually be, between Mr. Hero of the Moment and the person to whom he’s trying to connect you. So, let’s say you’re in a meeting with the bigwig, it’s going well, you’re feeling good, and then you remember you’ve been told to “say hi.” Assuming it’ll only help make a good meeting great, you say it. The energy changes in the room. The Hero of the Moment and the bigwig actually have a horrible relationship. There’s bad blood. Something. It has nothing to do with you, but now you’ve changed the taste in the bigwig’s mouth, when he goes back and thinks about the meeting, forgetting everything he liked about you. Ugh. Not good.
Two: When you’re given contact information — especially when it seems “too good to be true” that you would be given access (even via an assistant) to someone many tiers above — you’re really not being given a referral, if that contact info has come from the Hero of the Moment. The big deal was the giving of the info, usually in front of others, so the Hero of the Moment gets “big baller” cred. Think it through: You’ve been given the phone number of the assistant of the hottest producer of the decade. You’re still hoping for your SAG eligibility. What exactly are you going to say, when you get that assistant on the phone? What exactly did the Hero of the Moment see in you (your work? Nope. He gave you the number at a table in a restaurant, where all he witnesses are your waitressing skills. Your credits? Nope. He’s never even seen your resumé) that made him give you a bigwig’s assistant’s phone number?
The bigger issue, with the Hero of the Moment, is that it’s all about that moment in which the promise is made. It’s all about that Hero feeling good, being important, having access that you covet… and offering you a taste of the life you dream about having.
Here’s how you know for sure: If the promise is made, “Oh! I have a friend in casting who will do a general with you. I’ll make a call,” and the call never happens, that was a Hero of the Moment who made the promise. If you hear, “Oh! You should be with my friend the agent. I’ll give you a referral,” and you never get a meeting, that absolutely could’ve been a Hero of the Moment in action (or a well-intentioned gesture from someone who has zero pull with the agent in question).
Because a true referral, a true favor, a true offer from a real hero goes more like this: “Oh! I have a friend in casting who will do a general with you. Let me shoot her an email right now. I’ll give her your contact information. Call me in a week if it hasn’t happened and I’ll give her a nudge.” Or, “Oh! You should be with my friend the agent. I’ll give you a referral. When you submit your package to the office, include my name in your cover letter. Then shoot me an email to let me know you’ve sent the package over. I’ll fire off a quick email to let him know to be on the lookout for your materials,” and then you do your part and are CC’d on the email that the real hero sends to the agent, after your package is on its way.
See the difference?
Sure, there are flakes in this business. There are also many, many, many more wonderful people who legitimately enjoy hooking up folks who need to know one another and who could make brilliant things happen together, and fast. So, I’m not suggesting you assume everyone who offers a connection is playing the Hero of the Moment game, but I am hopeful that you’ll now fully recognize when someone isn’t truly offering a favor. When that happens, invite them to make it real (do the connecting for you rather than just passing off a number; explain what it is they hope will come from the connection rather than keeping it vague). If they balk, you know they weren’t offering anything of substance from the beginning. Good to know! Let it go.
Bonnie Gillespie is living her dreams by helping others figure out how to live theirs. Wanna work with Bon? Start here. Thanks!
Originally published by Actors Access at http://more.showfax.com/columns/avoice/archives/001383.html. Please support the many wonderful resources provided by the Breakdown Services family. This posting is the author’s personal archive.