Sunday, August 25, 2002
Show biz people tell L.A. stories
Tristaters seeking success make clear it isn't easy
By John Kiesewetter jkiesewetter@enquirer.com
The Cincinnati Enquirer
PASADENA, Calif. Comedian Jeff Wayne points to a photo in the lobby of the Icehouse, the comedy club here that helped launch careers for hundreds of comics since Bob Newhart and the Smothers Brothers.
The framed color picture shows comics David Letterman, Tom Dreesen and George Miller backstage at the club in the early 1980s.
I was on that show, says the 1974 Newport High School graduate. I did six minutes between David Letterman and Tom Dreesen, and I felt like a god.
While Mr. Letterman reached national fame with his late-night TV show in 1982, Mr. Wayne, a Newport native, has continued to slug it out in the show business trenches. He hopes his big break will be a syndicated comedy Crossfire show launching next year.
Mr. Wayne is one of thousands who have found that achieving and sustaining success in Hollywood is a constant struggle. It's certainly not the glitz and glamour that some people back home may think it is.
I always tell people: If you can do something else other than work in show business, do it!' says Brad Wigor, the 1973 Indian Hill High School graduate who has produced movies for ABC, CBS, NBC and Showtime. But he hasn't made a movie in two years, since Showtime's Sandy Bottom Orchestra, because of original TVmovie cutbacks by the networks.
Not everyone commands $10 million a movie, like 1979 Augusta High School graduate George Clooney, or $1 million per episode like the Friends cast. Only a few writers are executive producers of a TV series, like Ann Donahue, the 1973 Loveland High School graduateon C.S.I: Crime Scene Investigation.
Many of the 60,000 Screen Actors Guild members may go months without an acting job or paycheck. The same is true for many of the 8,500 Writers Guild of America members out here, and the 8,200 Director's Guild of America members.
That brown cloud hanging over Los Angeles isn't smog; it's layers of financial insecurity, professional rejection and career uncertainty.
Comedian Chip Chinery, a 1982 St. Xavier High School graduate, has gone on 60 auditions this year resulting in five jobs. Kevin Crowley, son of Cincinnati City Council member David Crowley, landed two sitcom guest-star roles from 100 auditions last season, a 98 percent rejection rate.
You could be one of a couple hundred they look at, says Mr. Chinery, who has appeared on Becker, Seinfeld, Drew Carey, Bud Light commercials and Tonight Show sketches. Once he was among 2,000 auditioning for a TV commercial.
You can't count on anything, says actor Jeffrey D. Sams, the 1986 School for the Performing Arts graduate. At times, it's been scary for me. I've thought that maybe I'll have to do something else other than acting to support my family.
TV viewers who see Mr. Sams as a reporter on Bravo's Breaking News drama (8 p.m. Wednesday) may think he's living the high life in L.A.
That's not the case.
He and his wife, Lisa, and their two children, ages 2 1/2 and 8 months, are squeezed into a two-bedroom apartment in Santa Monica. They can't afford a home until he gets another starring role on a major network TV series, he says.
I'm living a decent life, but not an extravagant life, says the Madisonville native who has starred in a string of short-lived series: Medicine Ball, Courthouse, Cupid and Sleepwalkers.
His recent luck illustrates how unpredictable Hollywood can be:
Two years ago, he shot 13 episodes of TNT's Breaking News, a gritty CNN-like newsroom ensemble drama. But Time Warner (owner of TNT and CNN) canceled the show in early 2001 before it aired, writing off a $20-million loss when the company was acquired by AOL.
Next he starred in an ABC movie about National Transportation Safety Board airplane crash investigators, a two-hour pilot for a possible series. ABC shelved the movie after Sept. 11.
Last spring he made Capital City, a one-hour political drama pilot that didn't make ABC's fall lineup.
His obligation to Capital City limited his appearances on C.S.I.: Crime Scene Investigation, TV's top-rated drama. CSI wanted him for six shows last spring; he did only three.
He's hoping to do seven CSI shows this fall as a guest star at about one-fourth pay of a series regular then get another pilot next spring for the 2003-04 TV season.
Show business is extremely hard because everything is a gamble, Mr. Sams says.
Bruce Humphrey, the first assistant director on ABC's Emmy-winning The Practice, knows the feeling. The 1972 Finneytown High School graduate chose working on Fox's Sliders over 7th Heaven. Sliders was canceled one year later, while 7th Heaven enters its seventh season this fall. He also worked on ABC's Cop Rock and Timecop, both quickly canceled.
Over the years, you've got to ignore all the uncertainty or you're in the wrong business, Mr. Humphrey says.
Mr. Wayne was elated in 1994 when NBC made a sitcom pilot based on his one-man show, Big Daddy's Barbecue. When NBC passed on making a series, his Big Daddy partner sold the show to fledgling UPN on the agreement that Mr. Wayne be replaced by Ernie Sabella, voice of The Lion King warthog.
Last year, Mr. Wayne co-hosted a morning radio show with Susan Olson (Cindy Brady from The Brady Bunch) that was canceled in a month. It took us longer to negotiate the contract than we were on the air, says Mr. Wayne, who supported himself as a shoe salesman and loan office manager in L.A. before becoming a full-time comic in 1983.
In comedy clubs, he has performed with Jerry Seinfeld, Robin Williams, Roseanne, Louie Anderson and Andrew Dice Clay, who have all enjoyed TV stardom while Mr. Wayne continues to make ends meet by doing concert tours 25 weeks a year, from Dayton to Denmark. Korea to cruise ships,
He hooked up in the spring with Mr. Anderson to produce a comedy Crossfire with Mr. Wayne as a writer, producer and the right-wing panelist.
I want to ride this Bill O'Reilly wave, he says, referring to the Fox News commentator. The ups and downs of show business have not dampened his dream.
I'm not a star, he says. I'm a very good comedian who will be a star.
Brad Wigor opened his mail recently and found a $48,000 residual check for Sandy Bottom Orchestra, which premiered on Showtime two years ago this week.
He had been expecting one and counting on it.
You never know when they're going to come, he says.
Mr. Wigor, who produced ABC's Emmy-winning Crash Landing: The Rescue of Flight 232 in 1992, has four movies in development at CBS, Fox and Showtime.
That's not untypical. It takes 12 to 15 months ... to get a piece of business together (script, cast, location), and to get them (networks) to say yes ... and in that time, a lot of things can change, Mr. Wigor says.
Networks can change movie executives; or scuttle a project after buying the concept; or slash the movie budget, which happened after Sept. 11. The big three networks (ABC, NBC, CBS) will make about three dozen original films this season, down from about 175 TV movies a decade ago, he says. That means a shrinking pool of jobs for everyone.
People don't understand how much schlepping there is all the time out here, Mr. Wigor says. You're always selling yourself. Actors are pitching themselves for roles. Writers are pitching stories.
Hollywood's fascination with fresh faces, and the networks' obsession with viewers ages 18-34, adds to the pressure on experienced performers.
Cincinnati native Kevin Crowley who has appeared in Hoffa, Backdraft, Murphy Brown and Drew Carey thought his acting career was over when he couldn't find work after NBC canceled Daddio two years ago. He wrote a play, and for several sitcoms, before landing a recurring role on ABC's new fall Push, Nevada drama.
It's a departure for me to do one-hour dramas, says Mr. Crowley, who attended Blessed Sacrament School in Fort Mitchell. I'm glad about it, though the money and hours are worse (than sitcoms). You get into a niche doing half-hour comedies, and that's all they want to see you for.
Mr. Chinery, who wants to be a sitcom wacky neighbor, says an out-of-work actor may not know when his career is over.
I could be done right now, Mr. Chinery says, but I'd never know it. I wouldn't know for years.
In the early 1990s, John Terlesky won a theater award for set construction and design at West Hollywood's Tiffany Theater.
The 1979 Wyoming High School graduate survived on his carpentry skills, building decks and remodeling homes, between acting jobs on Guns of Paradise (1991), Sirens (where he met future wife Jayne Brooke in 1993) and The Last Frontier (1996).
His breaks from show business reinforced his desire to direct, says Mr. Terlesky, who made his TV debut in 1984 on NBC's Legmen.
From my first day on the job at Legmen, I watched the cameramen and director and thought, "That looks like more fun.' I would hang out with the crew and watch them, he says.
After Fox canceled The Last Frontier, Mr. Terlesky wrote and sold a movie script Supreme Sanction starring Kristy Swanson and Michael Madsen with the stipulation he would direct one scene.
That did it. He has directed six low-budget action movies for Cinetel Films since 1998: The Pandora Project, Judgment Day, Chain of Command, Guardian, Written in Blood and Malevolent.
They are what they are. They're not Citizen Kane. But I've been able to learn the craft under the radar, he says.
Mr. Terlesky knows he didn't gain any job security switching careers. There are lots of actors on every show but only one director, he notes.
But he has no regrets.
Most stars have a huge drive to achieve stardom, to the exclusion of all else, he says. I don't think I had that inside of me.
Twice in the last nine years, writer Suzanne Fitzpatrick has given up on Hollywood and moved back to Northern Kentucky. But not for long.
I'd say, "I miss L.A.' And I'd go back, says the 1984 Dixie Heights High School graduate.
The Villa Hills native broke into show business in 1993 answering phones at Carol Burnett's company. She moved up to script co-ordinator for two Carol Burnett specials, The Nanny, Homeboys from Outer Space and 7th Heaven. She eventually became a staff writer for 7th Heaven, and then for Lifetime's For The People legal series (10 p.m. today).
In the past year, she has co-written an independent feature film script (Barrington Girls) being circulated around Hollywood, and a one-hour legal drama pilot.
If I can sell that movie, that will boost me, says Ms. Fitzgerald, who has supplemented her income in L.A. by writing commercials for Procter & Gamble Co.
The pursuit of (success) is grueling and painstaking. I was scraping by a little bit the last couple of years, she admits.
Friends and family asked her: Why don't you quit and get a real job?
If you believe in yourself, like I do, it will all come together, she says confidently.
Other Tristate natives working in Hollywood say they never would consider leaving town or show biz.
You can be a comedian anywhere, Mr. Wayne says, but if you want a shot at having your own show, you have to do it from here (L.A.). You can only capture a big audience on television.
Says Mr. Wigor, the movie producer and director: I didn't come out here to become a big star. I came out here because this is where they make movies, and I wanted to be part of telling those stories. This is the only place in the world to do this and that makes this the most competitive place in the world.
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