On Monday morning, just as Matthew had finished getting ready, his phone rang. It was his agent, Dennis Kurlt, waiting downstairs in his car. Matthew quickly put on a newly purchased suit and hurried down to join Dennis for the drive to Universal Studios.
During the drive, Dennis gave Matthew several warnings, particularly about not speaking out of turn on set, not letting curiosity get the best of him, and to ignore anything unusual he might witness.
Matthew nodded in agreement outwardly but didn't take it to heart. He knew he was starting from the bottom and needed every opportunity to advance—not only to enhance tangible skills like acting but also to seize or even create opportunities where possible.
For instance, securing this opportunity through helping Angelina Jolie with her personal affairs was made possible by Matthew's insistence on a quid pro quo. After much reflection, he conjectured a few reasons why Jolie might honor such an informal agreement: her unique personality and her likely impending divorce, which might lessen her concerns about public scrutiny.
Dennis drove into Universal Studios and straight to a restricted area where filming was taking place. They parked and quickly located the set of "Soul Shifters." Although they were early, the studio was already bustling with activity.
Inside the studio, after finding out where the casting director's office was, Dennis asked, "Do you want to greet Miss Jolie?"
"No need," Matthew guessed that Angelina Jolie would prefer not to see him. "She told us to go straight to the casting director."
Dennis looked slightly disappointed but didn't comment further. He led the way to the casting director's office.
After a knock and a prompt invitation to enter, they found themselves facing a man in his thirties or forties who was reviewing documents at his desk.
"Are you Mr. Rubin?" Matthew asked. Upon seeing the man nod, he quickly added, "Miss Jolie's assistant, Vanessa, informed me to come for a screen test today."
"Oh…" Rubin seemed to recall the arrangement. "Yes, that's right."
As Dennis eagerly listened in, he stepped forward to introduce himself with a business card, "Hello, Director Rubin. I am Matthew's agent, Dennis Kurlt."
Rubin took the card and casually placed it on the table, giving Matthew a once-over. "Alright," he said, picking up the phone. "John, there's a temp actor here. Come and take them to sign the contract."
Matthew looked from Rubin to Dennis, confused. Was that it for the screen test?
A young man entered, gesturing for them to follow. "Let's go to the legal department."
Dennis, after buttering up Rubin and successfully obtaining his business card, followed the young man out with Matthew.
"This counts as the screen test?" Matthew asked quietly.
"What did you expect?" Dennis replied dismissively. "For a background role with no lines, a quick look is enough. As long as you don't look too out of the ordinary, anyone will do."
Matthew nodded, understanding the logic but also realizing the importance of seizing every opportunity.
In another office, a legal consultant handed Matthew a contract. He struggled to understand the complex wording, a reminder of his inadequate education. He skimmed to the compensation section and then handed the contract to Dennis. After all, with such meager pay at stake, there was little risk of a major studio trying to cheat him.
Dennis briefly reviewed the contract and then called Matthew over to sign.
After signing, the young man who had led them said, "You can go now. I'll call you when needed."
"Let's go," Dennis motioned, and Matthew followed him out, somewhat puzzled by the brisk dismissal.
"Why rush us out?" Matthew asked.
"You're not working today. Why should they keep you here and pay you for doing nothing?" Dennis said irritably. "Six dollars an hour is still money, you know?"
Matthew shrugged. The contract he had just signed paid six dollars an hour, likely the minimum wage, and included any time he was called to set, not just the shooting hours. But the money wouldn't go directly to him; it would be routed through the agency, which took a ten percent cut.
It was clear why struggling actors often needed side jobs.
"Dennis…" Matthew began, recalling a past breach of contract that had left him needing money, "When can this pay rate go up?"
"Think it's too little?"
When they were away from others, Dennis spoke more freely. "Join the actors' union, and your pay could double at least."
"Really?" Matthew's eyes widened.
"Of course," Dennis said nonchalantly. "Union members have a minimum hourly wage of ten dollars and a daily minimum of one hundred and twenty dollars…"
Matthew quickly saw the catch, "Do productions dislike hiring union actors because they're more expensive?"
Like cheap labor in the job market, which boss wouldn't prefer it?
"You're quite
smart," Dennis patted Matthew's shoulder. "For someone like you, joining the union might seem to offer security, but it would actually strip away your only competitive advantage."
"And you think it's easy to join the union?" Dennis scoffed.
Matthew blinked, appearing clueless. "Isn't the entry threshold supposed to be low?"
"Yes, the union's entry threshold is low!" Dennis said as they walked on. When Matthew caught up, Dennis continued, "But even a low threshold is still a threshold."
"So, that's how it is." Matthew realized he needed to understand the rules of the game. "Can you explain?"
Dennis glanced at Matthew, his impatience showing, but considering he had used Matthew to gain access to the studio, he explained simply, "Joining isn't easy. You must meet specific eligibility criteria to apply."
He coughed softly before adding, "Firstly, you must have been a principal actor in a union-contracted film, commercial, or TV show with pay meeting union standards; or you could work in another production of equivalent standard for thirty days, applying to join within that period; or, any extra with three separate workdays in a union-approved production can apply, provided they can show proof of income."
It was clear to Matthew he wasn't yet eligible to join the union.
"And it costs a lot of money! The initiation fee in Los Angeles is three thousand dollars, and there's a semi-annual fee of fifty-eight dollars," Dennis added.
"I'll keep my independence for now," Matthew decided quickly.
"Not so dumb, after all," Dennis remarked.
Matthew looked at Dennis's portly figure but said nothing.
As they reached the studio exit, Dennis suddenly stopped. "You head back alone, I've got things to do," he said, turning towards the studio without waiting for a reply.
Matthew frowned slightly, recognizing the dismissal for what it was.
From Dennis's actions, it was clear he was just using Matthew as a stepping stone into the production.
Shaking his head, Matthew understood they were merely using each other. He left Dennis behind and walked out of Universal Studios. Near the exit, he spotted a large bookstore specializing in film and television literature.
Having wanted to buy some books, he headed inside. The store was nearly empty this early, with only a couple of clerks at the cash register.
Passing the register, Matthew noticed a surveillance monitor running discreetly in the background, a silent testament to American decadence—security cameras even in a bookstore.
He wandered between the aisles to the acting section, pulling out a hefty volume. The space where it had been formed a gap that allowed him a view into the next aisle.
Matthew wasn't particularly interested, but a glance through the gap caught his eye—a woman with jet-black hair cut to her ears, flawless features, and a strikingly androgynous allure.