I had a strong amount of working knowledge about Los Angeles prior to moving here (4 Ikea and 7 Target trips ago), so the fact that this is an “industry town” is no surprise to me. It’s precisely why I left the comforts of a 20-block commute and brunches that start at the proper brunch hour (in New York, Sunday at 9:30am is the middle of the night). But conceptually understanding the meaning of “industry town” is different than practically experiencing that phrase in everyday action. In my pre-moved mind, the presence of the entertainment industry in L.A. was akin to presence of politics in D.C. Then I remembered that I’ve never lived in D.C.
While I haven’t lived in L.A. for much longer than never, I can say after one complete pay-period as a member of “the industry,” now I get it. It’s not about what percentage of people you know work in entertainment – it’s about how that percentage affects life in general and specific. Here’s what I mean:
- I have a dozen friends here who are actually my friends and not friends-of-friends who I would count if, say, my Mom asked how many friends I have so far. Of that dozen, two do not work in some form of entertainment. That’s two twelfths (which may or may not also be 1/6th?). Now to an outsider (me two weeks ago) that’s “everyone works in the industry” but once you’re here you realize that because “everyone works in the industry” the specific areas of that industry within which you work become like totally different industries. So Peter who works as a reality television producer and Robby who develops scripted comedy shows are akin to a lawyer and an ophthalmologist. There’s a good deal of cross-over in areas like development (the finding of ideas and turning them into film/television) but in general the lines are clearly divided so, “I work in television” is really, “I work in reality development, network side, for Bravo.”
- Because of the sheer percentage of people who work in the industry, you really, truly are two-to-three degrees of separation from almost, absolutely anyone – and – much like the college name-game (“Oh, BC? Did you know Megan Mc-something?”) you are constantly testing those degrees of separation to determine, I assume, how you can get from point A to point Leonardo DiCaprio. So the college name-game becomes, “Oh you work for Brian at Full Picture? I work for Sharon at 20th but she came from Mirimax when Pam was there and Pam and Brian were both Stark kids so….” and then both people silently compute how what that means relative to either of them getting their script to Leonardo DiCaprio.
- Which brings us to the percentage of people who have a script they’re trying to get to Leonardo DiCaprio (or [insert big name]). In general this will be referred to as either a script, treatment or project – as in “I have a script I’m trying to get to Joseph Gordon Levitt” or “I’m shopping a reality treatment at Fox” or “I want to get this Jessie Rosen project off the ground.” No, people aren’t obnoxiously schlocking their would-be wares at every bar slash party, but if the appropriate moment arises you’ll hear an elevator pitch weaved into the conversation. The reason this is accepted and not eye-rolled-at is because many people at many bars slash parties really can help you move that project along. There is no networking like L.A. networking – expect for perhaps D.C. networking, but I’ve still never lived there.
- What sounds-bad-but-is-actually-excellent about this is that the percentage of people who have actually completed work on whatever project they’re pitching is – from what I’ve heard – very low. So it goes, “Wow, you have an autistic father role for Leonardio DiCaprio? I’d love to read that” then, “yeah, well, I’m still trying to break story on it, but I’ll get it over to you soon.” The reason this is actually excellent is that if you really do have completed work to share you’re one giant step ahead of 75% of people at the party.
- Unfortunately, 85% of the people you send that work to will not read it. This is a generalization, but a fair one. There is a type of meeting around this town called a “general.” It’s sort of like an informational interview except you’re interviewing for the chance to have this person read your shit. Prior to a general the given producer/agent/development exec will receive your stuff from whomever was kind enough to send it on your behalf (your manager, your cousin, the guy you’re dating). They may read some of it prior to your meeting (this depends on how much they like your manager, cousin, guy-you’re-dating), but will likely use the general to decide if they’re ever going to read it or, depending on how important they are, ever going to ask their assistant to read it.
- What makes all this networking, pitching, and project developing challenging to an outsider is the language barrier. Every industry has its jargon, but in L.A. it’s foreign language-level. And included in the lexicon are the names of industry players that you must know to translate what anyone is saying. Industry heads, power producers, development execs. This is probably because I don’t know anyone, but it would appear a though everyone else knows everyone else. As such sentences like, “Wait, Schwartz has an overall at 20th? But I just read on my message board that ABC bought his 1/2 hour in the room?” make sense to everyone. I’m developing a Lexicon, most of which will probably be wrong. Stay-tuned.
- There seems to be a hierarchy slash value system regarding the various industry job (i.e. director, writer, producer), but it’s complicated by the fact that everyone thinks their given selection is the most important. Unless you’re an actor, in which case everyone is in agreement that it’s the worst – until they’re dating one.
- And finally – after a certain amount of time in “the industry” you really will meet a porn director at a dinner party. In my case, it took 3 weeks, to the day.
If any of this sounds like I’m frustrated by the up-hill battle that is anyone’s L.A. learning curve that’s because I’ve already mastered the most important element of all. Pretending like this is the craziest, most miserably stressful and asinine industry in the world to mask the fact that most of what goes on here really is as insanely cool as it looks.
Then again, most of that is because I wear a headset at work now….
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As always, I really feel like I can picture this place now. Cool!
Love it how Leonardo DiCaprio pops up as THE example in all your LA-industry posts 😉
The annoying name dropping you do is so cliche. Ohhh celebs/big studios/wannabe filmmakers…No one that’s lived in LA for an extended time (that isn’t a sleazy “industry” type) talks about these things without coming across as superficial and celeb-obsessed. You’re not on Entourage, you’re someone’s assistant.
@ the first Anonymous – I don’t think she was name dropping. She’s giving examples of the name dropping that other people do. You need to relax a little bit, jeez.