Beverly Hills Dead (4 page)

"Smile."

Vance smiled.

"He's going to need some dental work," Eddie said.

Thomas asked for left and right profiles and a rear shot, then asked Vance to face the camera again. "What's your name?"

"Vance Calder."

"How old are you?"

"None of your business."

"Cut. That's a wrap. Let's go out to the back lot." The projector stopped, and the lights went up. "He's putting up the outdoor stuff," Thomas said.

"I'll send him to the dentist today," Rick said. "After he meets Hyman Greenbaum."

Eddie said nothing.

The lights went down again, and the film began with the camera pointing down a western street set. A man on a running horse appeared, headed straight for the camera. As he approached, he brought the horse up short, simultaneously dismounting, drawing a six-gun and fanning six shots directly at the camera.

The scene changed abruptly to a shot from a car with the horse running alongside. To Rick's astonishment, Calder leapt from the running horse, hit the ground, vaulted over his mount, then back again, then into the saddle. He whipped a Winchester out of a saddle holster and began firing it at a full run, then he brought the horse up short and reared him, his hat raised in one hand. The shot was pure Tom Mix. The film stopped, and the lights came up.

"That's it," Thomas said.

"I asked you to shoot him roping," Rick said.

"He refused to do it. Said he knows nothing about roping and he wasn't going to make an ass of himself on film."

Eddie burst out laughing. "Where the hell did you find this guy?"

"Glenna spotted him the day before yesterday on the construction crew out at our new beach house."

"Is he American or English?"

"English."

"You know what I'm thinking," Eddie said.

"You're thinking of Clete Barrow." Barrow had been Centurion's biggest star and Rick's closest friend until he was killed in the war, at Dunkirk. "He's nothing like Clete, except that he's English, a terrific actor and a terrific athlete, but I know what you mean."

"I hope you didn't let him off the lot without signing him."

"Later today. He's having lunch with Hyman Greenbaum. Don't worry; I'll have him signed before the day is out."

"Be careful of Hyman; he's the best."

"That's why I sent Vance to him."

Vance Calder entered the Brown Derby and was shown immediately to a table where a man in his fifties stood up and offered his hand. "Hello, I'm Hyman Greenbaum," he said. He was a big man who looked like he had played football in college.

"How do you do, Mr. Greenbaum. I'm Vance Calder."

"Call me Hy, Vance, and have a seat."

Vance sat down and declined a drink.

"This is interesting," Hy said. "The only other time Rick Barron ever sent anybody to me was the girl he married, Glenna Gleason."

"Then I'm flattered," Vance said.

They looked at a menu and ordered.

"Rick and Eddie Harris had a look at your test this morning," Hy said. "I have an appointment out there at two o'clock. That means they liked it."

"Who's Eddie Harris?"

"He's the chairman of Centurion Pictures, Rick's boss."

"I thought Rick was the boss."

"No. He's the head of production, which means he's the boss of moviemaking, except he reports to Eddie."

"I see."

"Centurion is a good place for you to be," Hy said. "They're the newest of the major studios...well, nearly major."

"Do you think they'll offer me a contract?" Vance asked.

"Yes, but we won't take it. We'll take a three picture deal, with options. That means they can fire you whenever they like."

"Wouldn't a long-term contract be safer?"

"I'm glad you're concerned about safety; I'm a cautious man, myself. But you don't want to be a salaried employee of a studio; you want to stay independent, so you can work wherever you like. That's what the smart stars are doing."

Vance nodded. Lunch came, and they ate.

"Let me give you a little sermon," Hy said.

Vance smiled. "I'm accustomed to sermons; my father is an Anglican priest."

Hy nodded. "Then you know to sit quietly and not ask questions."

Vance looked sober. "Yes."

"Here we go. I've seen a lot of young people come out here since the advent of talkies--even before--and it goes something like this: most of them end up pumping gas and waiting tables. If they're beautiful and talented, they get a studio contract, starting at two hundred a week, more, if the studio wants them badly enough.

"The studio puts them in whatever movies they need them for, never mind quality. If they think they're going to be hot, they give them better pictures, and their salary goes up to five or eight hundred a week. If they're star material, pretty soon they're making two thousand.

"At first, they buy a new car, a convertible, usually, and get a better apartment. Then, after a raise, they get a mortgage and buy a little house. As the money continues to go up, they buy a more expensive car and a bigger house. Then, if they're lucky, they go independent.

"One day, when they've been out of work for a couple of months, a script arrives. It isn't a good script, but it's being shot in a nice place, say the South of France, and the costar is somebody they want to fuck. Oh, and the mortage and car payments are overdue. The movie doesn't do well, and the next script isn't quite as good. Then they're offered second leads in even worse pictures, and in a couple of years they're pretty much done, and they haven't turned thirty-five yet."

"I understand," Vance said.

"I'll get you decent money for the first picture, and we'll hold out for the lead. Here's what you do: don't buy a car until you can pay cash for it, and it should be used; you live modestly and don't go to expensive restaurants, unless the studio or somebody else is paying. You keep putting money in the bank. You don't marry a costar."

Vance laughed.

"You don't buy a house until you can pay cash. You don't ever take a job because of the location or the costar or even the director. You take jobs for good scripts, that's all. If you can stick to that program, you'll become very rich, and I'll help you invest your money. You'll form your own production company and become a partner of the studio, instead of just working for a fee. And you can marry anyone you like.

"My agency gets ten percent of every dollar you earn, whether it's from salary, profits, investments or partnership. That will get to be a big number, but we'll earn it."

"Of course," Vance said.

"They're going to want you to see a dentist," Hy said. "I'll make them pay for it."

"Thank you for your advice, Hy," Vance said. "I assure you, I'll take it. Now let me tell you a little about me: I drive a Whizzer."

"A
what
?"

"A Whizzer. It's a little engine bolted onto a bicycle, and it goes about thirty miles an hour downhill with a tailwind. I live in a rooming house in Santa Monica, where I'm very comfortable, and I saved money when I was running a pile-driving machine. I promise you I will change my circumstances carefully.

"I'm very impressed with both Rick Barron and you, but there's something you must understand: there is no one's judgment that I trust more than my own, and, while I will always be grateful for your counsel on every aspect of my career, I will always reserve the right to overrule it. If we can proceed on that basis, I would be very pleased to have you represent me."

Hyman Greenbaum reached across the table, and Vance Calder took his hand.

"Check," Hy said to a passing waiter. "Let's take a drive out to Centurion. Did you ride the Whizzer here?"

"No, I phoned for a taxi."

"You'll ride home in a studio car," Hy said. "One thing: they're going to offer you a part in a western, an original script by one of the best writers out here, Sidney Brooks. You'll take the part immediately, without reading the script, but that will never happen again."

"All right."

"One other thing, Vance: are you, by any chance, a member of the Communist Party, or have you ever been to one of their meetings?"

"I am not, and I have not."

"Have you ever signed a petition for aid to the Russians or the Republican side of the Spanish Civil War or war orphans or
anything
?"

"I have not."

They stood up, and Hy Greenbaum showed him to the door, where his car was waiting. "You're going to have a long and very successful career," he said.

7

Hyman Greenbaum took a chair across from Rick's desk, while Vance Calder cooled his heels in Rick's reception room.

"I want to see his test," Hy said immediately.

"The screening room is tied up right now," Rick said. "I'll run it for you later."

Hy smiled a little smile. "It was that good, huh?"

"It was all right."

"No seven-year contract," Hy said.

"What do you want, Hy?"

"A two-picture deal with an option; fifty grand for the first one, a hundred for the second."

"Not a chance," Rick said.

"What are you offering?"

"A five-picture deal, starting at ten grand, adding another ten grand every time we pick up his option. And I'll give him a nice dressing room."

"Three pictures; twenty-five, fifty and a hundred. And he gets a cottage. And he gets the lead in the Sid Brooks picture."

"All right," Rick said. "Three pictures; fifteen, twenty-five and fifty. He gets the lead, and he'll share a cottage. That's it, Hy."

"The kid needs a car," Hy said. "He's riding around on a bicycle with a motor, something called a Whizzer. He'll get killed."

"I'll loan him one until he gets on his feet."

"Oh, and he gets script approval."

"Not for the first three pictures, Hy. We want him to do as well as you do, and I promise you I'll handle him carefully. It's not in our interests for him to appear in a mediocre movie."

"No more than two pictures a year," Hy said. "Let's not wear him out."

Rick shook his head. "It's important for him to be seen a lot early in his career. Later, we'll see."

"You'll pick up his dental bill."

Rick nodded. "We've got a good man right down the street; he gets all our business."

"This kid is going to be very big, Rick."

"I hope so."

"All right, you've got a deal."

The two men stood and shook hands. "I'll send you a contract tomorrow morning and a check for five grand," Rick said.

"Done."

"Let's get him in here," Rick said, pressing a button on his intercom. "Show Mr. Calder in, please."

Vance walked into the room, and Rick shook his hand. "Welcome to Centurion, Vance," he said. "I think you're going to do very well here."

"Thank you, Rick," Vance said.

"Sit down, I want to tell you about the next few weeks."

Everybody sat down.

"We're in preproduction for a new script by Sidney Brooks, called
Bitter Creek
. It's going to be a tough, gritty western with a lot of fresh faces, yours among them. You're going to play the lead, and you'll have a script when you leave here. We'll start shooting the exteriors in about four or five weeks--sooner if we find an amenable location in a hurry. You'll probably be living in a tent for a month. In the meantime, you have a lot of work to do. I want you to ride as much as you can out on the back lot. You looked good in the test, but I want you perfectly at home in the saddle, and I don't want you saddle sore on location. Our head wrangler will teach you a lot of stuff you don't know yet, including roping cattle, and you'll spend some time on the firing range, working with guns.

"You'll need some dental work to make you look good in the closeups, and we'll send you to the studio's dentist for that. You'll be rehearsing with other members of the cast, with an acting coach, learning your lines, and you'll spend a couple of hours every day in the gym; we want to strengthen your upper body a bit and put a little more muscle on you for the part. After this film, you can decide how much working out you want to do, but it's important to your career that you be fit. Any questions?"

"When do I start all this?"

"Be in the gym at nine tomorrow morning. My secretary will give you a map of our lot, so you can find your way around." Rick reached into a pocket and tossed him a set of keys. "There's the key to your dressing room and a '38 Ford convertible outside in my parking spot; you can use it until the film is over, and after that I'll sell it to you if you like it."

"Thank you, Rick."

"Your dressing room will be half a duplex cottage at number 4A G Street. You'll see it on the map. You can sleep there, if you like, and save some money on rent. You'll have a pass for your car that will get you through the gate, but the guards will know you almost immediately. If you need clothes for a special occasion, see Marge in wardrobe, and she'll loan you what you need. Get fitted for a tuxedo today; you're invited to dinner at Eddie Harris's house tomorrow evening at seven. Don't bring a girl; Eddie's wife, Suzanne, will pair you with somebody. Is there anything else you need?"