Show notes
Wit and Wisdomby Beth Broderick“Tell me the truth,” my nephew Conor said emphatically.He is not a blood relative, but I have been his Auntie Beth for as long as he has been alive. He is 100% my family.“Am I being a baby, or have the last few years just been impossibly hard?”“You are not a baby. The last few years have been impossibly hard.”For young people trying to carve out careers in the entertainment industry, the climb has not been just uphill. They have been sucked down into huge valleys and then forced to trudge up and over steep moguls, and then back down again. They lost a tremendous amount of momentum during the pandemic and fought their way back, only to encounter a business crippled by a strike. “Stay alive until 2025!” has been the rallying cry, the hope on the horizon, the visage of which has recently been filled with red, angry clouds of smoke and a cornucopia of carcinogens as parts of L.A. burned to the ground. Tough times in a notoriously tough town.2025 has so far been a big ol’ bust.My nephew has done the hard work. As a line producer, he has burnished his credentials first on commercials, then small film projects which have led to bigger ones. The budgets he writes have grown increasingly large and reflected higher and higher goals and values.That is how it is supposed to be done. He has followed the rules, worked the insane hours, sacrificed social activities, and gotten by on a bare minimum of sleep. That’s the Hollywood way of life in the beginning and, well, frankly, in the middle and often at the end as well. It’s how we roll.There was a wonderful book written many years ago called Force Majeure. The title refers to a clause in all insurance policies for films, large and small, which allows for repayment of funds when a force beyond the control of the production causes it to shut down. Say the lead actors are harmed or suddenly perish in an accident. Perhaps you are shooting on a location which is leveled by a hurricane, or the country you are working in breaks out into civil war. That’s Force Majeure.Yesterday, I woke to the sound of raindrops falling softly outside my bedroom window. I reached for the pup, who was lying with his head near my belly. “Finally, rain,” I thought as the rain continued, and the drops began to fall in earnest. I prayed that they would extinguish the fires that have devastated our region. There was a spring in my step as Fairness and I sped to the park to meet some other dogs for a playdate near the caves, grateful for the soggy ground beneath our feet.A few short hours later, I got the first of many warnings that parts of the city should prepare for mudslides. It took me aback. Perhaps we made it out of the fire, only to find ourselves flung into a frying pan. This city is taking it on the chin.I got into the elevator in my new building a week ago and met a young woman who could not stop staring at me.“Hi,” I said.“Are you really? I mean, do you live in my building? Really?” she asked shyly.“Yes, I am, really, and yes I live in your building.”Daniel grew up watching Sabrina the Teenage Witch. My character served as a role model for her. She wanted to grow up to be strong, and smart, and well-dressed like Aunt Zelda. She did, in fact, grow up to be all of those things. She is an expert with hair and wigs and rose quickly into positions of responsibility on film and television sets. She has served as a “key” artist on several and that’s a big deal for someone so young. She has worked a lot of high-end jobs, including a fairly recent long stint on Barbie. She is talented and dedicated, and has made good, and she is leaving. She is heading to Pittsburgh to take a job in a wig shop, working for a company that supplies them to women and children in recovery from cancer treatments or suffering from alopecia.She just cannot get by on what little work there is in Los Angeles and the ever-dwindling amount of salary that it pays. She is at the top of a game that is faltering, being sporadically played. She has no family money or anything to fall back on. She is on her own and made the very hard decision to leave a life she loves so that she can secure her future. She is comforted by the knowledge that she will be helping folks who really need it, but the sting of loss is there.“Tell me the truth,” Conor said again. We were at dinner in a cozy little Mexican place that is walking distance from my apartment.“I always do.”“Is the universe telling me to quit? I feel like I am so close, but I just cannot make it right now. Should I give up?”Like Daniel, my nephew is young, but old enough to start thinking seriously about the future. The trajectory that he mapped out for his career keeps moving, but in fits and starts due to crisis after crisis not of his making.“Not yet, I replied “Don’t give up yet. Maybe it will be like after Hurricane Katrina when we sent dozens of productions to Louisiana to boost the economy. Maybe that will happen here. Maybe the industry will come home to help its own in Los Angeles. You have worked so hard and accomplished so much. Maybe ‘Stay Alive until the End of 2025?’Governor Newsom recently signed some incentives into law that will make it more competitive for films and television to shoot here in Hollywood. Most studios and production houses have gotten out of the habit. As with many other industries in the U.S., a lot of work is outsourced to Mexico, Canada, Italy, and Eastern Europe, as well as states within the nation that offer big kickbacks to films that shoot within their borders. Maybe the new law will draw them back.Maybe.I paid the check. “That’s why God invented old people and Aunties,” I tell him whenever we go out. “So, they can pick up the check.”“Beth, do you have time to meet for dinner?”DANCE THROUGH THE STORM.Chasen texted me a few days after the entire community of Pacific Palisades fell to the flames. A colossal disaster. The ballet studio where he teaches survived, but many of his students and their parents lost everything. He was not sure how to move forward. I serve on the Board of Directors for his dance company, The Realm, because I believe in his future. He is a wildly talented young man. The work he and his fellow artists do takes my breath away.He drove up to meet me, to take a look at my new digs. We walked down to the classic restaurant La Poubelle, which I have been told translates to “The Trashcan”. I have been going there for 30 years. Its continued existence is a comfort.“I mean, is it right for me to continue? So many people have lost everything. How can we ask for funding right now?”“It will not be easy to find, that’s for sure. Have you taught yet? Gone back to class?”“Yes.” he replied, his eyes welling. “They all came. Some of them were… well… a mess. One woman walked in, and her expression was just so sad. She looked so fragile. I threw my arms around her and just held on until she could find her footing. The beginning was rough. The students were disoriented and easily distracted, but they stayed, and we got through it. I think they–well, we ALL needed it.”We talked about the spring show that we have been planning as a follow-up to our smash Christmas hit ballet. Krampus, which thrilled our audiences. He is working on an expanded revival of our show The Phoenix. This spring, it will be retitled, The Phoenix …. Rising. It will be difficult to find funding, and who knows if our primarily West Side audience will be up for attending. We hashed out pros and cons as best as we could, knowing we cannot predict what the future will hold“Well, Chase, I say we dance.”Chasen smiled wide. He is an artist. He wants to work. It’s my job to help him find a way to move forward with his next creation. It won’t be easy, but it must be done.In the wake of yet another catastrophe, it is important not to dismiss these young visionaries and dreamers with the very valid point that some people have lost everything—their homes, schools, businesses and in thankfully few cases, their lives. Those folks will need our support, to be sure. It will require the kind of monumental effort that was applied after the terrible Northridge earthquake. There are fundraising efforts of every kind in play. Yesterday, some neighbors held a bake sale to raise money for fire victims. People came from blocks away and stood in the rain waiting to go in and purchase something in support. We all paid double and triple the price. It was not about the cookies (though the one I bought for $40.00 was delicious). We just want to help.I feel the same way about the young people who have spent years honing their skills and crafts and expanding their talents. They need support too, and the promise of a way forward to share their considerable gifts. I am truly praying that we can center more film and television work here to boost the economy and keep more folks well-employed. The arts make up some of the crucial building blocks of a civil society. The three young people in this article are shining stars with so, so much to offer. There is no Force Majeure that should keep us from fighting for their fighting chance to do so.On we go …We extend our heartfelt gratitude to our valued subscribers whose support makes the publication of Wit and Wisdom possible. Thank you! This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit bethbroderick.substack.com/subscribe