Agents....

Had a call from an agent this afternoon. From Bristol. Was I interested in some work on the "Afterlife" TV series in a couple of weeks time. I was feeling a bit razzled after a recent internet brawl, so it wasn't the best moment. "Uh.., yes, I can do that..". And then. "Is this another one of your 40 pound a day jobs?". It was. 50 actually. I did some work on this series about a month ago. There is a little clause in an agreement somewhere which says that if a production company has more than 40 background artists working that day, then the producers can pay a lot lower rate. So that day I said yes, because my artistic integrity isn't yet formed, or sullied, by cash. And I needed the money. Anyway, when I got there, after a couple of hours I did a bit of counting, as you do. And I could only come up with about 27 or 28 others. I'm not quite sure if someone is being stiffed, but generally, I felt a bit miffed. Quite a nice day though. The location was Bristol Grammar School. Someone I met had done some work on 'Dr Who' sometime. He'd been a Dalek. Apparently, the scripts would be taped onto the inside of the Daleks and read from there. "Ok, everyone. From "I am a Dalek", Take 27.., Quiet please.., and..., "Action..".

I caught an episode of 'Extras' on TV last night, one where the hero goes to visit his useless agent, played by Stephen Merchant. A while back, someone described Merchant as having the look of 'a stoned meerkat'. I understand he'll be seen much more in the new series.

Anyway, in the last job on 'Afterlife' I played a university lecturer. They asked me to wear a neat shirt that wasn't red, white, or black. And also neat trousers. And a briefcase. I could see the question hanging in the air..."Do you have a tweed jacket with leather armpads?", but it didn't land.

So I managed to retrieve my briefcase from somewhere. A brown Samsonite, last used in a 1 year stint selling life insurance. Awful job. Cold-calling, going through telephone directories, sleeping with clients. Absolutely bloody awful. No one ever lapsed a policy on me, though, so perhaps I did something right.

Still waiting for my money for that day. And they want me as a lecturer again.
The agent conversation ended with... "Look, you've phoned me twice in 17 months, and each time they've been low-rate jobs. I won't do any more of them after this one".

Last time, on Afterlife, I spent some time around Andrew Lincoln. We were just about to do a take when he went off to be sick. I did gain the impression that he had quite a convivial off-set, after hours relationship with the crew. And also in between takes he'd be buried in "Hugo Johnson's Wine Companion". So maybe it's actor's nerves, or else he's learning the hard way about Tesco's 2.99 .

Just about my lot for tonight... except I was reading earlier somthing about the film "Blow Up". And I remembered that Janet Street-Porter had worked as an extra on it. Don't remember seeing her in it. Most times I've seen her on TV, she comes across rather well. Years ago she was on Room 101 with Paul Merton, and she did a really good mimic of a builders labourer.., something to do with bottom cleavage... And just the other day, she was on that programme with that Scottish chef. I actually found myself thinking, "Hhmm , quite fancy her.., smart, funny." I did though remember that she's been married about half a dozen times. So there's obviously Something About Janet that wears 'em down. The moaning, I expect. On the theory that the public displays are just a fraction of what really goes on. There's only room for, er, one moaner in my life.