Calling my Agent

I have one of those mobile phones. It really is an invaluable tool for agents to contact me with jobs and auditions. That’s what I have been told, anyway. Whenever I am in Melissa’s officeI am impressed by  all the modern equipment, all those time saving gadgets which allow her to fully focus on her clients. Computers, calculators, staplers. I often feel I am back on the bridge of the starship Volavent. For those who never saw ‘Marooned on Mars’, I recommend it. Set in the year 2320, I play Dr David Drax, a surgeon with a dark secret. Sadly, we never found what his secret was as he was unexpectedly killed by a volcano in episode two. But such was the medical advancements in the 24^th century, he came back in episode four, although he was then played by Paul Nicholas.

Of course there was a campaign to get me back; it was nothing personal about Paul’s portrayal, but I was better. Letters were sent, petitions were signed, protests were attended. But Thames stuck to their guns. As it happened, the series only ran for nineteen years so perhaps that gave them cause to think about how they treat people. As I said to the Radio Times, their refusal to take my calls is contemptuous to say the least; they didn’t print my letter but it still stands.

As it happens, I suspect Thames’s’ attitude came back to haunt them; I am a firm believer in kismet, and it is of no comfort to me that in the intervening forty three years many of the cast are dead, unemployed, retired or presenting daytime quiz shows.

At the time I was with Dorian Porke Talent Management. Dorian was a curious mix of showman and business person, This was in the days before mobile phones, and my communication was via a telephone kiosk in Curzon Street. This of course was a problem when Dorian said he would call you back. However, Dorian would often forget and cause you to have to camp out by the phone box just to be sure you didn’t miss an opportunity. I wasn’t the only person on his books, there was Ed Bishop, Roy Dotrice, Thora Hird and Desmond from Desmond and the Deckers. In many ways we became a very small shanty town, with Thora providing us with her ‘Beaker of Broth’ as sustenance through the long winter months. She was lovely, Thora; always there with a cheery smile and home spun wisdom. Although if you got in the way of her answering that phone you’d be picking your teeth up off the pavement.

That was then, this is now. And contacting Melissa is a smooth action. I have her name saved in what I believe they call ‘call list’, although I did have a few issues entering it and unfortunately couldn’t get the keyboard out of the symbols mode. So I always have to watch out for (*&$£##! calling lest I miss out on work.

I rang (*&$£##! this morning as a matter of fact. The girl, Jackie, who works on reception said “We will call you if anything comes in”. I don’t know how she got the job. She always sounds remarkably unenthusiastic when I call. It’s almost as if she is not even checking the rosta.

I do call a little too often I am told. Once every couple of weeks is sufficient, I have been informed. I try to stick to this sort of frequency. I am terrified of calling and finding nothing, only for a big role to come in on the next call which I may miss out on. I have called three or four times in a morning, something which irked them greatly, one of which was made while I was standing by Jackie’s desk.