Learning How to Type

There's a long-standing myth that pervades the film industry, which states that one has to be prepared to do anything when one is just starting out. Now, don't get me wrong. I know all about paying your dues. I'm on first name terms with Mssrs. Putup and Shutup, and am uncomfortably well acquainted with their slovenly neighbour, Mr. Minimum Wage. If you can't stand the heat, the old saying almost goes, get out of the studio. If you're not willing to put up with it, you might as well learn how to type.

And in a sense, who can argue, so long as there is an endless stream of wide-eyed bright (and, more to the point, not so bright) young things, willing to stand any indignity, acquiesce to any demand, regardless of the number of employment laws they break in the process. The lower echelons of the business subsist on this kind of underground service economy because of the massive cost incentives involved, in the same way many Western societies would essentially collapse if one removed all the illegal immigrants, because there would be no-one left to do the jobs no-one else wants to do.

It's just that, you know, you've always got to draw the line somewhere. Personally I realised this quite early on, due in part to a prescient piece of career advice I once received from a very experienced producer, whose face was permananrly contorted into an expression that I can only describe as gnarled. "Take whatever shit they throw at you, but figure out the right time to duck and you'll go far." It's a somewhat tortured metaphor, granted, but one I was reminded of the other day, when I came accross a particularly grim looking entry-level job while trawling through a freelancers' film and television jobs website I'm subscribed to. But more of that in a minute.

I had a friend at university, with whom I'm still in touch with intermittently, who is an immensely talented writer. All he ever wanted to do was write scripts; for television, films, radio, you name it. (He once showed me a couple of scripts for a sitcom he wrote on spec, which was an inspired twist on the old 'young batchelors living together' format. Kind of like Friends meets the Young Ones by way of Twin Peaks.) Anyway, shortly after we graduated, most people we knew fell into the usual pattern one sees when surrounded by a large number of people bent on persuing a career in the creative industries; most dip their toes in the water, realise how cold and full of sharks it is, and beat a hasty retreat to a far more intelligent way to make a living, and invariably one with a far greater disposable income. A few persevere, landing themselves comfortable but perfectly satisfying backroom jobs, while the really stubborn ones just keep on pushing at that oblique and unendingly frustrating uphill struggle, to have a job in the creative side of the creative industries. To direct, to act, or, in his case, to write.

So within a few months of leaving university, my friend got a job at a small TV production company, fetching coffee, running errands and generally making himself useful around the place. He wasn't exactly receiving any kind of salary in return for his efforts, but you know, you've got to start somewhere and after a while, one would expect them to put him on the books anyway, if he was any good. Which he was. Very good. As time went on, however, the job got more and more intense, until nearly a year later, I met up with my friend for a drink, and he looked terrible; pale, malnourished, and looking like he quite possible hadn't slept in days. I ventured to ask whether he was taking care of himself alright.

"Oh sure, fine" he replied, hesitantly. "It's just... Well, I don't sleep too well in that office."

"In the office?" I asked. "Why are you sleeping in the office?"

He explained that he had to in order to get all his work done; there was simply no way he could do all that paperwork, copy all those tapes and generally do all that was expected of him without sleeping under his desk for at least three or four nights a week.

"Gosh" I said, my voice a mixture of concern and quiet admiration. "That's dedication. I hope they're paying you a half-decent wage by now."

He shuffled in his seat a little, before explaining that they hadn't exactly started paying him yet.

"You're still working for free?" I asked, my voice rising in indignation. "But you've been working there for nearly a year."

"Yeah..." he said, his voice dropping to an almost conspiritorial whisper. "It's just that... Well, you've got to start somewhere, you know? You've got to pay your dues."

Now I'm all for paying your dues, but you've also got to know when you're being exploited. I mean, exploited more than usual. This is, after all, about the only business in the world to which one can make the distinction between 'bad exploited' and 'good exploited' and not expect to be picketed by angry looking people in t-shirts. We talked in circles for a while, me encouraging him to be more assertive, he reminding me that as I was at that time undergoing yet another period of sporadic employment drought, I was hardly one to talk. He had a point. We changed the subject. Four years later, and my friend is a handsomely paid insurance salesman, and while I, on the other hand, have paid just enough dues to call myself a professional director, I've also earned less money in my entire career to date than he probably earns in a year. He no longer writes, but makes up for it by taking extremely nice holidays.

Back to that job posting I was just talking about. Here's what it said:

"Office/Live Studio Runner
We are looking for a new runner. The most important attributes that we are looking for are energy and enthusiasm to get
the job done efficiently and with a smile. There are staff working in the building during the day and others in the evening
so it is important that systems are put into place and well maintained. Starts asap. Salary £40per/day with trial month.

Duties: Clean and organise!
Keep the kitchen area clean and tidy
Make teas and coffees etc for staff and guests
Set studio up for the night time show
Fully clean and sanitise the studio and gallery
Sanitise studio phones, earpieces and lapel mics
Sanitise podiums and poll
Vacuum floors and clear rubbish
Take sheets to laundrette every other day
Studio and Gallery system check
Sound and camera check
Keep in touch with the daytime crew; ask how the show went etc
ALL THESE DUTIES ARE PERFORMED DAILY.

More about the company
Currently Bang Media is mainly involved with broadcasting on it's new channel; Turn On TV, Sky Channel 915. We
broadcast one show each night; Bang Babes. This is an adult orientated shows on free-to-view TV. It is presented by
models and viewers can call up girls in their own home for sexy chat."

Grateful that my due-paying days were, if not by any means over, then at least past the level of glorified jism monkey, I forwarded the job to Mata Hari, with a subject heading along the lines of 'is this the grimmest runners job ever?' or suchlike. I expected her to return with an amusing riff about the fact that the job description literally contained wiping up after pole dancers in addition to all the usual, overworked runner-ly duties, but insead, she just sent back seven, simple words:

"You'd learn how to type. Wouldn't you?"

My mind drifted to thoughts of my friend, sunning himself under a tree in the Bahamas, a little cocktail umbrella casting a shadow across his cool, freshly-made mojito. And I beheld the wisdom of insurance salesmen...