The Business of Friendship in Business

My brother is an insurance broker. He lives in Scarsdale with his wife and three sons. They own a beautiful house. They have land. A golf course across the street. A woods in their backyard.
I am a writer and an actor. I live in Los Angeles. I rent a house. I have land but it is not mine. There is a golf course a mile away but I do not play golf. As for the woods, well, I can drive to some.
This week was terrible for me in business.
A few months ago, a successful television producer told me that he had just gotten a lucrative TV development deal. The deal would allow him to develop shows created by other writers. I have had some success in that world, having sold a handful of sitcoms and piloting one, so this prospect was exciting for me; creating something awesome and innovative for someone who could really help it come to fruition.
I worked tirelessly coming up with concepts, writing 20 page treatments. When this producer called to have a follow up lunch at the commissary of a huge TV studio, I was armed, stoked and confident.
At that lunch, while perusing the menus, the producer nervously informed me that “unfortunately, our development slate is full up. But we would love to develop with you next season.” I gasped, gulped, cried a little…all on the inside. On the outside, I was playing the role of an adult, a Hollywood guy who is not affected by anything. I was rolling with the punches all the while thinking about my newborn baby and my recently laid off wife. Shit! This could’ve been our sigh of relief. Damn it!
We ordered food. I wanted to be anywhere but there. ANYWHERE! As we squirm through the lunch (and all the while I am thinking “DUDE, WHY COULDN’T YOU TELL ME THIS OVER THE PHONE, TEXT, BBM, FACEBOOK, TWITTER EVEN..) the producer dangles another carrot. “One of the pilots we are developing…well, we all want you to play the lead.” I am a writer. I am an actor. But I thought I was having a writing lunch and now I am potentially the star of a show. My anxiety comes to a hault. “See, you always go with the flow, do the work and it will pay off. Just keep showing up. Keep showing your face. Be present” I tell myself.
Lunch is over. We hug. Oh, right, forgot to mention…we are friends. We met through business but over the years became friends. Had dinners. Went to each other’s birthdays, charity events, met for drinks, laughed, told each other how talented the other was. Friends. So, obvs, we hugged goodbye.
Four days ago I found out that the pilot that they all wanted me to star on was, drumroll, BEING MADE!! Well, I thought, I am one step closer to taking care of my family but moreso, the producer, my friend, wants me to play the lead of that show. This won’t be easy (nothing is) but it will be possible.
I text my friend, the producer. I write “congrats on the pilot. I hope I come in for it.” No response. Then I call my agents. Tell them that “this is the one, the show they wanted me for should it get made.” The agents call the producer and his team. The producer, my friend, calls my agents back and says “we don’t want to waste Matt’s time. We are going to have to cast a star.”
I have worked but I’m not nearly the star Snookie is. Or Tila Tequila. The realization. I AM NOT A STAR. Does that mean I should throw in the towel? Hang it up? What are you if you are not a star these days? If you get a coffee and no one snaps a photo did you really get a coffee?? Shit. I am just talented. Where the hell can that get me?
I then send the producer, my buddy, a text saying “My agents relayed the news. All good. Kick ass on your pilot.” At first I did not want to write that. I wanted to right ARE YOU SERIOUS? But then, I thought, this is business…they always want a star…suck it up. So I did. I sucked it up. And I sent that text.
I go to bed. Conscience is clear.
Wake up to a call from my agents that “they want you to come in for the pilot.”
What? How? Why? What could change in 24 hours? Didn’t want me. Not a star. Want a star. Now want me to audition? Hmmm. I did not trust it. But the agents did, or saw dollar signs, who knows. So I read the script a few times. Rehearse my scenes. Get the right outfit together. Make acting choices. I do what we do when we have to do this. I prepare.
I go to the audition. I sit in the waiting room. I sit near Meadow Soprano. She is beautiful. She gets up to go to the bathroom. I hear a door open. I hear my friend, the producer, stop Meadow and say “so glad you’re here. YOU’RE NOT NEXT RIGHT?” Meadow giggles and says “nope…just peeing.” My friend, the producer laughs.
Then the assistant comes out and calls “MATT.” That’s me. I walk to the casting room. And there is the casting director, two writers…but not my friend. NOT THE PRODUCER.
He left for my audition. He was there for everyone else in that waiting room. Then he left and he would return when I was in the elevator. He would return for Meadow Soprano…a star.
I walked to my car, so hurt. I was called in for pity’s sake. I was called in because he knew that I knew that he said they wanted me for that role but were no longer wanting me for that role.
What I don’t think he counted on was the sequence of events. Had he not opened the door to evacuate the casting room when Meadow Soprano walked by en route to pee…I NEVER WOULD HAVE HEARD HIS VOICE. IN THAT CASE, I WOULD HAVE BEEN MADE TO BELIEVE THAT HE JUST COULD NOT BE THERE. But, alas, he was there.
So, I just shared this story, a story that has really hurt my feelings, with my older brother. And he shared this with me:
I am doing a deal right now with these guys. I love these guys. I’d do anything for them. They’d do anything for me. Until I fuck up or they move on. Until they no longer want to work with me. But until then, WE ARE GREAT FRIENDS.
If what I can offer them is AWESOME but another broker’s offer is MORE AWESOME they are going with the other broker. And they will probably be really GOOD FRIENDS with that broker too. Until an even AWESOMER broker comes along.
These are friends that have to be compartmentalized. They are not from whence it came. They didn’t know you before you had hair on your balls. They didn’t share a bunk with you when you were banging sorority girls. They didn’t turn their tassles with you when you graduated high school or college. They didn’t know you as a person with dreams. As a kid from a town. As a…well…as a friend.
Aha moment anyone?
So, indeed, it is all the same across the board. I am you and you are me…
My dad has always told me that if you have a handful of friends in your life you are damn lucky. I do. I have that handful. So perhaps now, I can officially separate church and state…business and friendships.
This may be the beginning of the adulthood I’ve been so scared of stepping into. And as my brother told me...”you will be everything to your family that you aspire to be, with or without anyone’s promise for your future. Your future is you, in your hands, in your dreams.”