Keep an
eye
On your close friend
‘Cause what you got they’ll make you lose
And then turn around and step in your shoes
I say they’ll turn around
And step in your shoes
(From the song “Keep An Eye,” from the
Diana Ross & the Supremes Love Child album, 1968, and the Diana Ross album,
1970, composed by Nickolas Ashford/Valerie Simpson)
Every famous person has tales of success and tales of
projects gone awry. Diana Ross had
a concert debacle in 1983 when she held a free show in Central Park. The Showtime cable channel aired it
live, and the revenue from the broadcast was to go towards building a
playground in Diana’s name. On the
day of the show, not long after the performance began, rain started pouring
down in an unforgiving torrent.
The show was postponed until the next day, and on that day it drew over
500,000 people. Unfortunately,
such a large and loosely policed crowd proved an easy target for muggers. Over
a hundred people reported robberies during that second show, and some even
reported assault. The city of New
York incurred a number of lawsuits from victims of the attacks who claimed that
the city had failed to provide the needed security at the concert. The city settled the suits for millions
of dollars and to make matters worse, the television special didn’t even
generate enough money to build the park.
Consequently, Diana agreed to pay for the playground out of her own
pocketbook.
For me, the film Gangsta
Mafia was my production debacle.
It was originally conceived as a straight-to-DVD project to raise money
for a film version of FREEda Slave. The project started out just like a sunny
day in the park, and most of us involved were unaware of the approaching
storm. However, the storm did
come, and its name was Anthony Shorter.
When I first met Anthony, he worked for Disney. He was short, but he talked big. Anthony started out as a friend, a good
friend. He told me he believed in me and encouraged me at a time in my life
when I really needed to hear it.
He lived in a beautiful loft apartment right off of LaBrea and Wilshire
Boulevard. I would see the rapper Kool Moe Dee in the elevator of Anthony’s
building and think to myself, “Wow, this is real living. He lives in a building
with celebrities.” We would sit in his living room and watch his huge wide
screen television, and I would listen to all of Anthony’s dreams of success. He
had big dreams of running his own talent management agency. When he left Disney to work for HBO, he
began to build a roster of talent for his company, Sound Boy Entertainment. Comedian A.J. Jamal and actress Lisa
Raye were just a couple of his clients. A year later, he completely stepped out
on his own. He took up an office
on Hollywood Boulevard and shared space with famous casting director Robi Reed,
who is well known for casting many of Spike Lee’s films.
I believed in
Anthony enough to allow him to become my talent manger. I even began to help
him out with some of his projects. I worked the door for his comedy event at
the El Rey Theater and later helped him produce a networking event called
“Entertainity.” He was impressed with my business savvy and asked me to become
his Vice President of Talent. He
wanted to expand his business and he told me that Robi Reed’s office was
becoming a cramped situation. He
printed up my business cards on his computer and ordered us black polo Sound
Boy shirts online. Just like that,
we were in business together. I was working for a temp agency as a receptionist
at the time, so it was an easy decision for me to leave my day job and move
into a small office with him on Wilshire Boulevard. We had a small roster of about twenty clients, and one of
our first projects together was to get some of our talent onto a Lil’ Kim /
Christina Aguilera music video. I
submitted all of our clients and five were selected. It felt wonderful. I even
submitted myself but did not get cast.
I got our talent cleared, had legal papers prepared for the underage
kids, and made sure our performers were paid. I felt like things were starting on a good foot.
I showed Anthony the screenplay for FREEda Slave to see if he would be interested
in co-producing the film version with Darryl and I. He had already seen a video of the play and knew that it
dealt with gay themes, a topic with which he was uncomfortable. Nevertheless, after he read the script
he decided to try it. We put our
hearts and souls into it. We
submitted it all over town, including to producer Suzanne DePasse who was once
an executive for Motown Records. Her assistant called me when he got the script
and seemed excited about the story.
Suzanne’s company seemed like the obvious choice for the project, since
so much Motown music would need clearance to make the version of the film I
envisioned. But to our
disappointment, her company’s response was a “pass”:
March 17, 2003,
I found the idea of “masks” to be the true heart of
this story, reflecting a great mirror on how we as human beings go through life
wearing various “masks.” Freeda Slave unfortunately does not play to the
sensibilities of De Passe Entertainment; however, I found the subject matter
enlightening and personally, I am curious to further developments in this
script.
I would
like to be kept informed on its various stages and perhaps can come on board in
some capacity.
Hallam Banfield
Creative Assistant to CEO
De Passe Entertainment
Not allowing ourselves to be discouraged, we also submitted the script to Showtime Networks. However, they felt the story was too close to Holiday Heart, a film they were already in production on with director Robert Townsend and starring Ving Rhames and Alfre Woodard. Timing is everything. Originally, Holiday Heart was a play produced in Washington D.C., not too long after FREEda Slave opened in Baltimore. The Cheryl West script made it to Hollywood just a few months ahead of ours, so her story would see the light of day while ours would continue to struggle.
Finally, Anthony decided that we should just raise the
funds needed to produce FREEda Slave
on our own. We started looking for
talent to sign on. The lovely
Tonya Lee Williams who played the character of “Olivia” on The Young and the Restless absolutely loved the story. She even suggested we film in Canada
where they were very gay friendly and would welcome a project such as
ours. Her Canadian nationality
would have helped us a great deal, had we decided to go that route. We also met a talented actor named J.
August Richards who was starring in the WB show Angel, and considered him for a role in the film. J. August had also played Richard
Street in the 1998 television movie about the famous Motown act, The Temptations.
Anthony was already searching for directors, and we started
getting actor submissions from casting agents all over town. Yet we did not have a penny to shoot
the first frame of film. Anthony
began leaking bits about the movie out to the press, and became excited to see
his company name in the trades online.
He said that the publicity would help get investors. Although Darryl
Wharton had written the script and had also written and directed the play for FREEda Slave, we decided to search for a
female director because I wanted to see the story through a woman’s eyes.
The devil’s
workshop is a busy place
On top of evil there’s an innocent face
Oh, on top of evil he puts an innocent face
She was just like a spider
Only twice as smart
On top of evil there’s an innocent face
Oh, on top of evil he puts an innocent face
She was just like a spider
Only twice as smart
The pitch for the film was “Forrest Gump meets The
Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert.” FREEda Slave was like the former in that it spanned a number of
decades and used music as a “stamp” for each era; it was like the latter in
that it was about drag queens.
Raising funds for a project that big proved to be very hard, so Anthony had a counter plan; we would shoot a real quick, “fast and dirty” low budget project slated to go straight to video, and use the revenue as seed money to get FREEda Slave made. The planned name for the project was Gangsta Mafia and we would shoot it in twenty-two days. It was the story of the Italian mafia trying to take over the drug trade from two rival gangs in Los Angeles. Anthony and I created the story outline and Darryl ghostwrote the actual screenplay. We knew the formula that Hollywood buys, so we were sure to include certain elements in the script. We had urban drama with the gangs. We had a love story between the mafia kingpin’s daughter and one of the gang members, echoing a Romeo and Juliet romance. We included rappers and comedians because we knew that Hollywood loves rappers and comics. We had a hot heterosexual sex scene and an even hotter gay rape scene. The story ended with an important, positive message about the need for gang truces and unity.
Raising funds for a project that big proved to be very hard, so Anthony had a counter plan; we would shoot a real quick, “fast and dirty” low budget project slated to go straight to video, and use the revenue as seed money to get FREEda Slave made. The planned name for the project was Gangsta Mafia and we would shoot it in twenty-two days. It was the story of the Italian mafia trying to take over the drug trade from two rival gangs in Los Angeles. Anthony and I created the story outline and Darryl ghostwrote the actual screenplay. We knew the formula that Hollywood buys, so we were sure to include certain elements in the script. We had urban drama with the gangs. We had a love story between the mafia kingpin’s daughter and one of the gang members, echoing a Romeo and Juliet romance. We included rappers and comedians because we knew that Hollywood loves rappers and comics. We had a hot heterosexual sex scene and an even hotter gay rape scene. The story ended with an important, positive message about the need for gang truces and unity.
In planning our production strategy, I felt that we
should make things as simple as possible.
I said to Anthony, “Let’s do this project non-union to avoid hassles
from the actor’s union.”
“Absolutely not,” Anthony argued. “This is going to be the first film out
of Sound Boy Entertainment and I want to get name actors on it to make sure it
sells.”
“Anthony, this is Los Angeles,” I argued back. “It is
a town filled with talented, hungry actors. I believe we have the kind of formula
film that will sell, even if we have no recognizable names. We could have
talent work on a deferment and pay them when the crew is paid. That would be
one less fee we have to pay up front.”
“I got that covered,” Anthony assured me. “I have a
personal injury settlement check coming and I already have credit accounts set
up with Western Costumes and truck rental houses and camera houses. Now stop
arguing with me and let’s go make a movie.”
Anthony was greedy and wanted the big check in the end
from the distributor for himself; he did not want to have to split any profits
coming his way. We came up with a
working budget based on the amount of money Anthony was expecting from the
lawsuit. We agreed that Darryl
would direct the film after all, and I begged all of my friends to help with
production. Clarence Reynolds, my
former co-worker from QVC, flew in on his own money to lend his assistance, and
my best friend, Stephen Bond, came up from San Diego. I was executive producer but also assumed the roles of head
costume designer and casting director.
I even maxed out my credit card to stock up on food for craft services.
Casting was a nightmare, with real gang members
showing up to our offices to audition along with scores of actors from all over
Los Angeles. So many talented people showed up. That’s when I learned how
movies really get made -- the business is not about talented actors, it is
about who will sell your film. I
also witnessed the numerous favors a producer must call in to get a movie made.
Anthony wanted to put his nephew,
a budding rap artist, in the film.
His nephew was actually very good, but Anthony later figured he needed
someone who was already recognizable to audiences. He found a guy named Nomadd who said he was formerly a
member of 50 Cent’s group G-Unit.
Although it was hard to get Nomadd to do a convincing read, Anthony
wanted to profit from the fact that he was part of the G-Unit posse. So he gave the lead role to
Nomadd. Anthony also approached
various local comedians about appearing in the film and, because he had worked
with them previously, they were on board without too much drama. Then we got a headshot in the mail that
made us all go, “What da fuck?” The name on the 8 by 10 glossy was Joey
Buttafuoco.
Buttafuoco had become a media sensation back in 1992 when his underage
mistress, Amy Fisher, shot his wife, Mary Jo Buttafuoco, in the face. Fisher received jail time for the
shooting and Joey went to prison for having sex with a minor. However, sensational television news
and television sitcoms couldn’t seem to get enough of him, and upon release
from prison he moved to Hollywood to use his fifteen minutes of fame to secure
a few movie roles.
Anthony felt that Joey was our ticket to stardom. He cast Joey as the Italian mafia
leader, although Joey had a Brooklyn accent. Joey was warm, kind, funny, and easy to get along with, and
the role would be the biggest offered to him for a film at that time.
Anthony started sending out press releases like there
was no tomorrow, announcing Joey as one of the stars in Gangsta Mafia. Stories
about Joey started popping up all over the internet. It made for great press, but in some cases Joey’s notoriety
presented an obstacle. As I was
trying to secure product placement deals for the film, certain companies such
as Ray-Ban would only send us product with the provision that Joey did not wear
any of it. They did not want a
celebrity like Joey, someone more infamous
than famous, associated with their brand.
Other companies would not have anything to do with us at all, simply
because Joey was appearing in the film.
Once we actually got around to shooting, the first few
days of filming went fine.
However, when it came time to shoot the first big scene with Joey, we
discovered that he did not know his lines. We had a huge scene to film in a restaurant where Joey, in
front of his crew of henchmen, discusses his plans to infiltrate the L.A.
gangs. Take after take, Joey just
did not know his stuff. He was so
distracted by his buddies who were portraying the henchmen, and by the several
girlfriends he had brought on set who wanted to be used as extras. His energy was spent on his entourage
and not on his lines. We finally
had to write his lines down on a piece of paper, and he read them aloud as we
shot the scene with a beer bottle placed in front of him to hide evidence of
his theatrical “cheating.”
In general, things got progressively worse as the first week of filming
wore on. Where Anthony had not set
up credit accounts he wrote checks, and he was writing them all over town for
locations, trucks, and catering.
He had even written Darryl and I checks to cover our living expenses
during the production. On the
seventh day of filming, as I was getting gas for one of the crew trucks, I
realized something was wrong. My
ATM card would not work at the pump.
Because so many other things needed to be addressed at that moment, I
did not have time to deal with the problem. We were shooting a very difficult scene that day, outdoors
in Long Beach, with real gang members.
It involved cars, guns, and a gay rape scene in an alley. Catering had
not arrived on time, the craft services food had run out, and people were
becoming hungry and disgruntled.
Anthony was not on set and made himself very unavailable that day.
Now I
see how she schemed and finally
Worked her way in between
She planted seeds of mistrust
To make us fight unaware
Her comforting ways when I would cry
Shadowed the look of triumph in her eye
Just like a snake on the limb of a tree
A friend is an enemy you can see
Everything was going wrong. I was juggling too many hats to be effective in handling any
one thing. When it was time to
shoot the rape scene, we discovered that the main actor was wearing Mickey
Mouse print boxers. Darryl turned to me and said, “Get him in some white
underwear, now!” Normally, as
producer, I would have told Darryl to kiss me “where the sun don’t shine.”
However, since I was technically also the costumer for the film, I had to take
responsibility. I did not have any
white underwear handy and did not have time to run to a store, nor did I have
any money to spend.
What I did next even I cannot believe to this
day. I took the actor aside and
explained the situation, telling him that the only pair of white underwear
available was the pair that I was wearing myself. It was ninety-five degrees outside and we had been working
since 4 a.m. The actor, a former
gang member who had never acted in his life, said, “Let’s do this.” He put on my sweaty drawers, went out,
and did his scene. I remain blown
away to this day when I think about the dedication of that actor.
That night when I returned home, I checked my mail and
found out that my rent check had bounced and that my bank account was in a
negative two thousand dollar deficit. I shut down filming for the next
day. Funny thing is, the next day
we were scheduled to shoot a jail scene with Joey and Anthony, being that
Anthony had cast himself in a cameo role.
We tried to give Anthony a chance to make things right. He claimed that he was going to settle
the payroll issue and that in a few days Darryl and I would be paid. All he needed to do was cut a trailer
of the movie for the distributor, and then we would have the cash to keep
filming. Darryl and I were skeptical,
but we kept moving forward.
After
we began selecting scenes for the trailer, Anthony gave one of the cameras to
Darryl so he could shoot extra street footage and the Los Angeles skyline. I worked with an editor over the
weekend to select the best scenes to compose an eye-catching montage. I wrote
the narrative for the trailer and taped my voice-over standing in Anthony’s
tub. The bathroom had become our
makeshift recording studio and it made me think of the famous “Snake Pit” at
Hitsville, the tiny basement recording studio where Berry Gordy created the
“Motown Sound.”
The real problem
hanging over our heads was that the cast and crew were due wages during the
second week of filming. Darryl
made a phone call to the payroll company and found out that Anthony had never
signed a contract with them and had never made a deposit into the account. In addition, someone discovered that
Anthony had written fraudulent checks to all the locations, including the nite
clubs The Mint and The Bungalow Club where scenes had already been shot.
Demanding answers, Darryl, his director of photography
Carlos Batts, and his assistant director Damon Murphy, met with Anthony at
Anthony’s home. An argument ensued
and Anthony told Damon that if pressed any further, he was going to go get his
gun. Anthony demanded his camera
back and Darryl refused, so Anthony began to make threatening and harassing
phone calls to Darryl after he left that night. The calls became intense, and the next night we discovered
some thugs standing outside of the apartment that Darryl and I shared. We both decided it was best for us to
go away ourselves for a while, and we stayed with different friends across
town. Just when we thought eviction was inevitable, a check arrived in the mail
from Stephen Bond, paying the entire rent. Stephen had managed my Baltimore
store for most of its years, just out of love and for no salary. Now there he was years later, paying my
rent. To this very day, I thank
God for him.
Anthony filed charges against Darryl for not returning
the camera, but the judge dropped the charges when Anthony never showed up to
court. In fact, he never showed his face in Los Angeles again. The last I heard, he had run a scam in
some city on the southeast coast, using the names of various celebrities. I still get calls from the LAPD, asking
me if I know of his whereabouts.
Then I saw him on television
The experience disillusioned me from ever wanting to
be in entertainment again. I turned to my temp job headhunters, Wendy and
Karen, over at Venturi Staffing Partners. Those two women had always found me
steady work during the lean days in Los Angeles. After the Gangsta
Mafia fiasco, they placed me at Paramount Pictures where I worked in the
Marketing and Promotions department.
The department had the unique job of going after businesses to secure
co-partnerships, such that the next soon-to-be-released Paramount film could
gain exposure through the partner’s advertising campaign. (Think of what Reese’s Pieces did for
the movie E.T.) Although the product did not have to be
used in the movie, it was a plus when it was, but such integrations were
secured through product placement agencies.
Then I saw him on television
I caught on quickly to the work of the department and
my creative side was satisfied as I settled into the job of Administrative
Assistant to the Senior Vice President of World Wide Marketing and
Promotions. Although I was a
horrible typist, I gave great “phone.” During my time there, we worked on deals
for the Jim Carrey movie Lemony Snicket’s
A Series of Unfortunate Events, and secured eight partners for that one
film. I personally handled movie screening contests for the films The Honeymooners and Coach Carter with Upscale Magazine.
Ironically, that was the same magazine that had done a story on my dolls
when I worked at QVC. It was an
exciting time and I learned so much about movie marketing from the inside. I stayed for two years.
When I discovered Paramount was going to let me go,
the last thing I wanted to do was go back to doing extra work. I frantically sent out resumes to see
if I could get another job in film promotions. Although I went on a few promising interviews, nothing
panned out. As mentioned earlier,
I reluctantly registered with a few casting agencies and ended up booking a
number of gigs back to back.
However, when it was all said and done, I still wanted something
different from the up and down, emotional roller coaster of entertainment.
I started looking into going back to school. I really
wanted to make a positive impact on people’s lives, not just win Oscars. The
Actor’s Studio suddenly seemed less important than the college classroom and,
although I did not close the door on entertainment completely, I began to
contemplate that there was another door to success. That door was education. The wonderful thing I had learned
from the Gangsta Mafia experience was
that my true friends believe in and support me no matter what I do, whether I
answer phones, produce movies, walk in the background, or host a national
television show.
‘Cause what you got they’ll make you lose
And then turn around and step in your shoes
I said they’ll turn around
And step in your shoes
So you better keep an eye on your close friend
You better watch out for your close friend
Don’t trust nobody
Don’t trust nobody
Keep an eye on your close friend
And then turn around and step in your shoes
I said they’ll turn around
And step in your shoes
So you better keep an eye on your close friend
You better watch out for your close friend
Don’t trust nobody
Don’t trust nobody
Keep an eye on your close friend
“Sometimes it is hard to see true friendship through the masks that
people wear, but once you find it, it is forever.”
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