If I’d expected Roscoe to be a red-eyed mess when he got in from LA, I’d have been disappointed. He looked as if he’d been picked up off the Edinburgh train, not a connecting flight from Heathrow. I’ve never been able to sleep on any part of an aircraft, not even on the long haul to Australia.
My agent has that gift: he’d flown across America and then the Atlantic, stretched out flat in first class.
‘Hi, Oz,’ he greeted me, snappily, as he stepped into the conservatory that serves as our office, his shiny skin so black that he made Conrad look pale. ‘You ready to get down to business?’
I’d just come out of a hard work-out in the gym, plus wee Jonathan was cutting teeth and had kept us up for half the night: the guy was fresher than me. We must have made some contrast, me in tracksuit bottoms, a sweaty T-shirt and trainers, Roscoe in a sharp Italian suit. We must have, because Susie laughed out loud.
‘You wouldn’t thank him if he did,’ she said. ‘Oz, go and shower, before the ventilation system breaks down.’
So I did as I was told. When I returned, my agent was sitting in one of our big guest chairs. He had wee Jonathan perched on his knee, and he was looking as awkward as anyone I’ve ever seen, and terrified too, in case the kid drooled on the Armani cashmere. I picked him up and returned him to his mum.
Our latest office toy at the time was a big Gaggia coffee machine. I fixed Roscoe a nice latte (isn’t it funny how coffee with milk sounds more inviting in Italian?) and sat down behind my side of the huge partner desk set-up that Susie and I share. I nodded towards Roscoe’s hand-tooled Zero Halliburton briefcase. ‘So what’s in there?’ I asked him.
‘Some very interesting propositions, my friend,’ he replied, opening his seriously expensive executive’s accessory, and taking out a folder of papers.
I held up a hand. ‘Before we get into them, make me understand one thing. Why are we doing this face to face and not by e-mail or even over a video-conference link? I don’t want to project a classic Scots stereotype here, but I don’t reckon for a minute that you’ll be picking up the tab for your travel expenses.’
He gave me one of those big Denzel ivory grins. ‘If I’d thought that would worry you, I’d have travelled coach. Oz, we’re discussing multi-million-dollar business here, stuff that’s highly sensitive commercially. New-age communications may be slick, but they are way too easy to spy on. If one studio gets wind of another’s project, it’s not unknown for them to try to beat them to the punch with something similar. Remember a few years back when we had a spate of volcano movies?’
‘Could I ever forget? They were bloody awful.’
‘That’s what happens when you rush things. They made money, though. Top-class marketing covers up a multitude of stuff. Look at The Blair Witch Project.’
‘I’d rather not,’ I told him. ‘Once was enough. I sat through it waiting for the scary stuff that never happened. The hype had me believing I was going to piss my pants, but all I did was yawn.’
Roscoe laid his folder on the desk. ‘None of these will make anyone do that,’ he said.
‘Let’s hear about them, then.’
‘I’ve got five here,’ he said. ‘Two are no-goes . . .’
‘Why?’
‘They’re not worthy of a star of your importance.’
‘Aw, come on!’ I heard myself laugh, but it sounded strained. Actually, what he had said had unnerved me. No, it was more than that: the whole situation, me on top of the pile, red carpets everywhere I went, Roscoe and everyone else coming to me, it was all beginning to get to me.
I never set out to become an actor. I was a guy enjoying an easy life, until someone thought that ‘Private Enquiry Agent’, which I was, meant ‘Private Detective’, which I wasn’t, and I found myself involved in a piece of work that led to me role-playing on camera. It turned out that I was good at it, and the whole thing just took off after that. I hadn’t started out with stars in my eyes, and while I had enjoyed the ride, I hadn’t prepared myself mentally for the level I had reached. I wasn’t sure I could handle it. I wasn’t sure I wanted to handle it.
Roscoe made it worse. ‘I’m serious, Oz,’ he insisted. ‘Some of the projects that have been put to us might have borne consideration a couple of years back, but not any more.’
I looked across the desk. Susie and Audrey were sitting on the other side. ‘What if I’d rather be back where I was two years ago?’
His eyes tightened, just a little, but I caught it. ‘That’s not an option, Oz,’ he said quietly. ‘You’re not being offered second or third billing any more.’
‘What if I turn them all down?’
He frowned. ‘Why would you want to do that?’
‘Maybe I’d like a break.’
‘Give it another two years: till then, build on what you’ve achieved. Hollywood has been looking for a new Sean Connery for years. That’s why they’re so excited about you.’
I felt my eyebrows shoot up. ‘Sherioushly?’ I exclaimed: that drew a laugh. ‘Listen, Roscoe,’ I went on, ‘that’s hugely flattering, but it’s not me. I’m an accidental hero.’
‘So was Sir Sean. He was a promising young actor, then Bond happened. The rest is legend. Red Leather is your Doctor No.’
‘And what if I say just that, “No”? Look around you, man. I’m filthy rich already, I have an amazing wife I’m crazy about, I have two kids I’m crazy about. I don’t have to do any more of this. I can walk away now and devote the rest of my life to them, and frankly, even after you’ve told me what’s in that pile of papers, however much money it means, that’s the most attractive option open to me.’
Roscoe sagged a little in his chair: for a moment I thought that the jet-lag had finally hit him. And then he drew a breath. ‘You think so?’ he asked coolly. ‘Mr Blackstone, let me explain some stuff. You seem to think that this business is some sort of a game that you can play for a while and then give up. Well, sorry, sir, but it isn’t. It is a very serious enterprise, one that employs tens and hundreds of thousands of people around the globe. Rightly or wrongly, it is built around people like you. Stars, each one of them, are industries in themselves, providing livelihoods for a hell of a lot of people, from the directors at the top of the off-camera creative team, through the writers, cameramen, focus pullers, grips, dolly drivers, the makeup people. Did you take time to watch the end credits of Red Leather? Did you count the number of names there? All those people . . . including you . . . were employed because of one man, Miles Grayson. His presence secured the money that underwrote the project.’
‘A lot of it was his own,’ I pointed out.
‘Not all of it, but so what? Where did he acquire the personal finance to invest in his own project? From other projects funded by other people, cinematic icebergs of which he was just the tip. That’s where you are now, sir: you’re up there, clear of the water, with a hell of a lot of other people below the surface who are depending on you. You get self-indulgent and walk away, they will suffer.’
‘There will be other projects for them.’
‘Not that simple. The business revolves around the A list. It rises and it falls depending on the number of seriously marketable stars there are around; that is why they are all, every one of them, so important. And then we get to the really vital people.’
‘Who?’
‘The people who gave you the money you’re enjoying. Those ordinary men and women who’ve made you wealthy simply by going to your movies and buying your videotapes and DVDs. Those people have formed personal relationships with you: to them you’re family too, whether you like it or not. You gonna disown them? You gonna say, “Thanks but I’ve got enough now”?’
‘I don’t own them,’ I snapped. ‘They don’t own me.’
He stared back at me as if I was a stranger, and maybe I was: he hadn’t seen that side of me before. ‘No,’ he said quietly, ‘but you owe them.’
‘And do I owe you too, Roscoe?’
‘Maybe, but I’m no
t including myself in this argument. I don’t need you, if that’s what you mean. I have other clients, all of whom feel loyalty towards me. They’re all right there on a list on my agency website, alphabetically, from Adams to Zederbaum. Go on, take a look, why don’t you? When you came to me, most of them were bigger than you were. They’ve seen you shoot up the pecking order, but none of them object too much, because they understand the nature of the industry, and believe it or not, a few are hoping that I’ll be able to place them in supporting parts in your productions. But don’t you worry, boss: my son will go to Harvard, when he’s old enough, without your help, if that’s the way it has to be.’
That brought me up short: I’d never thought of Roscoe Brown as a family man. An unfamiliar feeling swept over me as I realised that I’d never thought of him as anything other than someone who could do me a lot of good. Unfamiliar or not, I recognised it as shame.
He picked up the folder. ‘You have the power, Oz: the power to walk away, the power to disappoint them, the film-makers who are looking for work through you and the fans who are looking forward to watching your career develop. Say the word, I’ll put these papers away and I’ll be on the first plane back to Hollywood. In fact, I reckon that’s what I’m going to do with or without . . .’
‘Enough!’ Susie’s shout jolted us both. When I turned back towards her, I saw that her hands were clenched into fists and that the knuckles were showing white. ‘Roscoe,’ she growled, ‘you try that and you won’t make it through that door.’ Then she looked at me with the same expression she uses when she’s giving Janet a rollicking. ‘Oz, stop this nonsense right now. And don’t think you can map out my future without consulting me about it. If you think I’ve backed out of a business I love just to watch you sit about the house all day drinking beer and getting fat, then think again. I’ve done it to support you in your career. The kids and I don’t want your undivided attention. You’re a great dad as it is: being around all the time won’t make you any better. The fact is we want to bask in your movie-star glory. So whatever it is you’ve got up your arse right now, get rid of it and look at what’s on the table.’
‘But, love,’ I protested, ‘you heard that: the new Sean Connery, for Christ’s sake.’
‘That’s crap, I agree: there’s only one Sean and only ever will be. But you don’t have to believe it just because a few silly journalists are saying it. You concentrate on being the first Oz Blackstone and let them get on with it.’
There’s no arguing with my wife when she’s in full flow ... well, there might be, but I’ve never been brave enough to try it.
‘Okay, Roscoe,’ I said, a chastened man, ‘the moody’s over. Let’s talk business.’
‘Yes, sir.’ He put the folder back on the table.
I tried a funny, to lighten the atmosphere. ‘With all this Sean stuff, they don’t want me to play James Bond, do they?’
My agent frowned: I’d forgotten that he’s a very literal man. ‘Not yet,’ he replied. ‘The guy in the part at the moment is under contract for at least one more. But after him, you’re high on the list. What we have on offer now, though, is the lead role in an action drama about the second Gulf War, shooting in Morocco next spring, followed by a killer part in a huge version of Don Quixote.’
‘Where will that be filmed? Mexico?’
‘Spain. Where else?’
See? Nice guy, but he’s had a total sense of humour bypass. ‘Indeed. Who are the directors?’
‘Spielberg’s doing the war movie and Quixote is Minghella’s.’ Now there were two compliments.
‘What’s the money?’
‘The war movie’s offering five, the other, four: our price is seven for each.’
‘Excuse me,’ Audrey interrupted. I had asked her to take a record of the meeting. ‘Is that million?’
He looked at her, patiently. ‘Of course.’
‘US dollars?’ I queried.
‘They tried that: I told them that everything’s euros these days.’
‘Thank God for President Bush.’
‘Let’s not go that far,’ Roscoe murmured, his voice low as if he was afraid the room was bugged. ‘Oz,’ he asked, ‘have you given any more thought to going offshore, as I suggested?’
‘You mean setting up an official residence in Monaco, or Jersey?’
‘Yes.’
‘Susie and I have discussed it, but we’re not keen.’
‘There would be big tax benefits. And where’s the downside? You already spend a lot of the year outside Britain. When you went to Australia you took your family.’
‘Too much time: I thought I’d made my feelings clear on that. No, Roscoe, we have family reasons for staying here. Our kids have to know where home is. Plus, my sister’s a lone parent, and I’m a sort of surrogate dad to her boys.’
‘Tell your kids that home is where you are. Tell your sister to remarry.’
I laughed at that one. ‘You’ve got a funny side after all. You tell her.’
Actually, he was on safer ground than he might have been. My sister had a steady relationship and it was getting more serious by the minute. She had moved on from her occasional flings with her big German sex toy, and had taken up with an advocate she’d happened upon at a party.
I’d met the guy once: I’d found him a bit of a dry stick, and I hadn’t taken to him. Neither had Jonny, my older nephew, but Ellie certainly seemed to. I’d had Ricky Ross, my security consultant, check him out at an early stage, but he’d come up clean. His name was Harvey January, and Ricky had described him as a man on his way to a judge’s red robes.
‘No,’ I said, ‘it’s not off the agenda for good, but Susie and I don’t fancy being nomads. For now, we’ll live with the alternative, and that’s paying the tax. We’ll still be left with a bit more than sixty per cent of a hell of a lot.’
‘Okay, but I’ll bring it up again, trust me on that.’
‘If you must. So, these two projects: do you have the scripts with you?’
‘Yeah, and I’ve read ’em. You should agree, once I’ve nailed down the money side.’
‘If you recommend it, I do. But they’re both next year. You said there was a third serious proposition.’
‘There is, and it’ll fill up fall for you. It’s a movie about a rock singer, who tries to break a recording contract, only he finds out that the label his manager signed him to has Mafia connections. They fix him so he’ll never sing again. But he wins out in the end: he makes it bigger as a stand-up comedian than he ever was before. It’s an updated remake of an old Sinatra movie.’
‘I think I’ve seen it: as I remember, it was too long.’
‘It was: this version will be shorter.’
‘Did you think to ask if I can sing?’
‘It’s rock and roll, for Christ’s sake!’ He paused, looking a trifle anxious. ‘You can sing, can’t you?’
I threw back my head and gave him the first four lines of ‘Bonnie Mary of Argyll’. ‘Where do we shoot?’ I asked him.
‘Location in Chicago and New York, beginning October: sound-stage work in Toronto. Wrap by year-end.’
I nodded approval. I’d never been to Chicago, but New York and Toronto are two of my favourite cities. ‘How much are we getting?’
‘The same: seven million euros, and that’s settled. They came in offering six, but they rolled over quick when I told them what you cost now. Plus they’ll find you an apartment in Toronto for the duration of the project. It’s an easy commute to NYC and across the lakes to Chicago.’
I looked at Susie. ‘Autumn in Canada?’ She smiled; she really was getting to like being a movie star’s wife. ‘Not an apartment,’ I told Roscoe. ‘Make it a family house, and big enough for Ethel the nanny, plus Conrad and Audrey. Conrad goes everywhere we do.’
‘Okay, I’ll tell the producers. I’ve got the script for that too: you should start on it right away.’
‘I’ll look at it. Who’s directing?’
�
��A guy called Weir Dobbs. It’s his first big project.’
Nothing he had told me, not even the fact that he had jacked my fee up to a level I thought was stratospheric, surprised me more than that. ‘Who cast me?’ I asked.
‘He did. He called me himself: told me that after Red Leather he wasn’t doing the movie without you.’
I whistled softly. Weir Dobbs and I had a history: he had been Miles Grayson’s assistant director on the first movie I ever made and for a time we had not got on. We had so not got on that in the midst of one difficult session I had bounced him several times off a studio wall. Now he just had to have me in his picture . . .
Looking back, I realise that was the moment when I finally accepted what I was, and what I’d become, and understood that my career had attained a momentum that was indeed out of my control, for that time at least.
I put away the thought. ‘You’ll give me a schedule?’
‘Of course.’
‘Have a separate session with Audrey on that, please: she manages my diary completely these days.’
Roscoe nodded. ‘Will do, Oz. Now, the other two projects I mentioned, those I’m going to recommend you turn down: let’s discuss them.’
I held up a hand. ‘No, let’s not. You’ve steered me straight on the three positives. I’ll trust your judgement on the others.’
‘You sure?’
I stood up and stretched out my hand. As he shook it I told him, ‘You have our complete confidence, mine and Susie’s. I hear what you’ve said to me and I appreciate your coming all this way to say it. But that’s enough shop for now: we’re going to take you to lunch, and you’re going to tell us all about your family.’
Chapter 3
We took him to the Buchanan Arms, an old-established eatery not far from our place. It turned out that he has one son from a marriage that ended in divorce around the time I became his client.
He talked happily about Roscoe junior all through lunch, until his voice began to slur and his eyes became heavy. He put it down to the jet-lag catching up with him (and passing him at high speed in the outside lane), but I reckoned at the time that I should have talked him out of that pint of cask-conditioned ale. In my experience, some Americans just can’t handle our beer at all.
Alarm Call Page 2
