LEADS represents professional
adults over the age of 21 who have either a degree or a
diploma in acting, or a minimum of three years’ experience
in the business as an actor. If you meet these criteria,
submit a CV and headshot via email to info@leadsartists.co.za with
your contact details and we will call you for an interview
should your e-mail submission be successful.
Feel free to call a few days after you’ve
e-mailed us to |
follow up, but please bear in
mind that we look at many new applicants and deciding to
represent someone takes careful consideration. We take into
account factors like age, look, skills and the artists we
already represent, so we may not necessarily have a space
for you at the time you approach us.
Keep trying, we do keep contact details of other agents or
you and try websites on our links page. |
I’m ready for my close-up now.
I trained as an actor and I’ve been unemployed as
an actor on many major movies so it’s only natural
for me to be asked about the state of the South African film
industry. Only one answer makes sense: “There
aren't enough movies!” By which of course I mean, “There
aren’t enough movies with ME in them!”
Too many South African feature films have showcased the splendours
of Table Mountain, burning sunsets and Kim Basinger's breasts,
but they haven't yet made a lens wide-angled enough to encompass
'ME'. Who could forget my portrayal of 'Evil Game Ranger #2’ in
the epic Americans Save Africa? The breathtaking simplicity
with which I said my line, “Yeah, Boss, let's take them
apart.” would have moved you to tears. (The director
seemed to be crying.) Unfortunately it was cut from the eventual
straight to video release |
in favour of a lingering shot of
some low rent plastic surgeon’s cover version of the great Basinger’s
noombies. Why? Who knows? The ways of movies are mysterious
indeed, but here are some of the secrets I've learned.
An actor has a unique position on set.
It's called 'the bottom of the food chain.' Everybody else
has a job to do while actors pass their time memorizing
one line and pathetically trying to chat up the make-up
artist. This doesn't
endear us to the crew. Note to other actors: A crew member
is generally anyone wearing Hi-Tec boots, denim shorts revealing
more arse-cleavage than an Edenvale plumber and a tool belt
well hung with “stuff” that I’m not qualified
to describe. But there will always be a mini-maglite
plus a late model Leatherman. |
Crew can actually be very friendly,
but actors may want to refrain from doing their Drama School
yoga stretches when the bloke with the big tape measure
is trying to set the distance between you and the lense.
I've discovered that when he refers to a lowly actor as “the talent”,
he's actually saying, “Fuck you!” Mind you, he
seems to have a way of calling the director of photography “Sir” that
implies the same thing, so I could be mistaken.
Crew also wear cancerously brown tans
and torn T-shirts, printed with the titles of movies they've
worked on before. Actors know the names of these flicks,
because we auditioned for them and didn’t get cast. We console ourselves
that they have really silly sounding job titles. “Dolly
Grip” sounds camp every time, no matter how big your
Leatherman is. Also, all pieces of equipment on a film set
have special names to distinguish them from objects in the
real world. Weirdly though, nobody has any sense of humour
about these technical terms except for the endlessly hil-ar-ious
puns on the only word in the world that rhymes with “gaffer.”
Then there's the director. Don't think of him as crew. He's
actually a |
better actor than any
you'll ever meet, because, not only does he pretend to be in control, but he'll
even convince you that he gives a damn about your research
into child trauma induced hypo-adenoidenal-schizophrenia
for the role of 'Evil Game Ranger #2'. In short, he’s
your link to the ART of the whole process, and talking to
him has all the warmth and joy of hugging a runaway combine
harvester.
Eventually it's time to say your line
to the American movie star. This is the best part of the
day and the reason you’ve
spent two weeks in the bush. Unfortunately, the star may
not actually be on set, so you'll probably end up giving
your most heartfelt performance to a pile of elephant droppings
that marks the spot where he/she would be standing if they
could be coaxed out of their caravan. That's it. Job done.
Time for lunch.
Darwin's laws of the jungle play themselves
out perfectly in film set lunchtime queues. Crew eats
first. Period. I'm pretty sure that it's an inside joke amongst
the tanned types on set to snigger at some assistant's-junior-grip's-boy's-runner
or whatever as he tries to herd a few straggling actors to
the front of the line, only |
for them all to emerge out of the resulting scrum with
Hi-Tec track marks all over their faces.
Certainly the American stars are the only actors I've ever
seen who can stride confidently to the front of a meal queue.
This is because of etiquette on set that is reinforced by the
pleasure of watching them confront 'mielie pap' for the very
first time. Eventually some of them even get to like it! (Picture
the scene: Right now, somewhere in a |
ridiculously expensive Hollywood restaurant
a baffled waitron is asking, 'I'm sorry. You want what,
Ms Basinger?')
I guess it's comforting to know that our film industry is
as baffling and indestructible as mielie pap. Maybe that
could be the subject of an international movie... with ME
in it... I AM mielie pap!
See you at the movies,
Al |
