“Well, why me?”
“Look in the papers, your face is there, day after day, you sell clothes, soap, shampoo, root beer and even tampons for God’s sake. Your face is one of the most valuable commodities in the Western World at the moment. You can’t open a magazine anywhere without seeing you looking out from the pages. And you say you aren’t an actress, did you realise more people tune into your pop commercials than the movie channel?”
I laughed, for now she was being silly.
“Seriously, you have talent, guts, determination and more personality that half the supposed stars in this goddamn town. I’ve read your story, and it is some tale. It is almost enough for a movie in its own right.”
“It isn’t finished yet,” I said, and she smiled at me.
“Okay, but will you do a test?”
“Who’s in the movie?”
“It hasn’t been finalised yet. Matt Damon has been approached, as has Ben Afflick.”
“Look, it all sounds lovely, but there is a scheduling problem. I have the show this afternoon, and then we are off to Miami tomorrow. So maybe you will have to find someone else.” I said.
“The fee would be at least one million dollars,” she said.
“Marianne, I make more than that selling toothpaste. I have more money than I can spend in a lifetime. I do things because I want to, and because they are fun. I rise to a challenge, and like doing things with the people I love near me. Being stuck in some studio or on location somewhere for months at a time, when the guy I love is working teaching kids how to paint properly, is not my idea of a good time.
“I like being home every evening, so when Simon gets home after a hard day, we can make dinner together, and talk through what has happened to us both. I like to sleep in my own bed, and feel him close to me. I hate trailers hotels and tents, but they are bearable with him there with me.”
“If we set up the test tomorrow before you leave, and arrange transport and everything, will you at least give it a try?”
She was desperate, and I wondered why.
“Why do you want me so much?” I asked.
“Because you have the look.”
“What look?”
“Beats me, but I am told, ‘Get Sandi Lake, she has the look.’ So, here I am,” she said with a smile.
“Okay, but Simon comes too, and all arrangements thereafter will be through my agent.”
“Of course. I didn’t know you had an agent.”
“I don’t, but it looks like I may need one.”
The limousine arrived on the dot of nine the next morning. Simon and I were whisked to the studio where Marianne met us.
“Good morning Sandi, and Simon. Thanks for coming. Miles Norton is the producer of this movie, and he wants to speak to you first.”
We were taken into some lavish offices, where I was introduced to the producer, the assistant producer, the director and all kinds of people. I instantly forgot their names, as I had a habit of doing when given too many at once to remember.
The director, Tim something, took me to one side.
“Okay Sandi. This movie is based on a computer game, similar in a way to Lara Croft’s Tomb raider. It is all about illegal arms deals, and you are an East European model whose boyfriend gets caught up with the Russian Mafia. He is killed, but gives you details, on a computer disk, of a big deal that is going down in the London Docks. There is a race on to get the information from you, and it starts in Eastern Europe, and comes through Hungary, Austria, France and then finishes up in the UK.
“You meet up with a CIA agent, and together you have to evade the enemy, and deliver the information to the only person who can decipher the code. The scene I want you to try for is the one just after the first attempt on your life, and you have been fished out of the Danube by the hero. You are in a cheap hotel room, and you are cold, wet and very frightened. Okay?”
“Okay,” I said, reading the page and a half of script.
I was taken into the sound studio, and there was a crude set, which was enough to pretend to be a bedroom. I read through my part, and it didn’t seem too difficult.
A technician came in and told me he would read the hero’s lines, but the camera would only be on me.
I held up a hand, and went to the loo. I stuck my head under the tap, and soaked my hair and face.
Then I returned, and read through the script once more. I had an ability to memorise stuff, so I put the script down, where I could see it if necessary, and nodded.
“Okay,” I said.
A lad came out with a board, and said, “Sandi Lake, screen test, take one.”
“Action.”
Him “Hey, you are safe now.”
Me (heavily accented) “For how long?”
Him “I don’t know. We must move out soon, and try to reach London. But they will be watching the airports and stations.”
Me “Just who are zese people?”
Him “You don’t want to know.”
Me “Yes I do. Ze bastards have just tried to kill me, you owe me zat much.”
Him “I suspect they are Russians, probably the Mafia, and with links to the old KGB. They are trying to sell arms to interested parties, mostly terrorists in the West. Rudi (my boyfriend) was involved.”
Me “Rudi? Never, he vas a gentle boy. He vas an artist for God’s sake.”
Him “He was blackmailed. They used his sculptures to ship arms and explosives through the border checks.”
Me “So, vy are zey trying to kill me, is it zis?” (Holds up disk).
Him “Probably.”
Me “Vot is on it?”
Him “I don’t know.”
Me “Just who are you anyway, and vy do you know so much about me?”
Him “I’m the only friend you’ve got.”
Me “How do I know I can trust you?”
Him “You have no choice.”
“Cut.”
I started in surprise, as I was just getting into it and had started to enjoy it.
“Sandi, did you memorise the whole damn section?” the director asked.
“Yes, why did I miss something?”
“Not at all, in fact you altered some of the dialogue.”
“Well, it didn’t sound like an east European, it was too Americanised. I just wanted it to sound real.”
There was some muted laughter, and I felt embarrassed.
“Sandi, you told Marianne that you couldn’t act. Well, you are wrong, you can and did, brilliantly,” the director said.
“Oh,” I said, somewhat shocked.
“Okay people, that’s it!” someone shouted, and we were taken back into the office. Marianne was smiling.
“Okay, Sandi, I liked the test, I want to see how it comes out, so we will have a coffee, and then if you want you can view it with me,” said Tim.
I went and sorted out my hair, and then was given a coffee.
About half an hour later we were ushered into the viewing room, which was a small cinema with a dozen seats.
I watched as my small scene unfolded in front of me, and was surprised as how I looked. My voice surprise me the most, it was very sultry and sexy and didn’t sound like me at all. It was very east European.
“Well, how do you think you did?” the Producer asked me.
“She didn’t look like me.”
“No, she looked and sounded like an East European model. I’ll be honest, I want you for the part, and I think you are made for it.”
I turned to Simon.
“Sweetie?”
“You were amazing. Go for it!” he said, with a grin.
“Really?”
“Look, I know I was not convinced before, but having seen that, I am now. You were very believable. Even if this is the only one you ever make, how many people get this opportunity?”
“Okay, I’ll do it.” I said.
There were smiles all round, and we then discussed terms. I rang Jemima in London, and she agreed to talk to a friend of hers who was an agent. She also advised me to join Equity, and to tread very carefully.