DoubleaAgent:                                  "Undercover in Black Hollywood"

--by Nicole Sconiers

Jay-Z's "Hard Knock Life" bumps onto track as we--

FADE IN:

INT. MOVIE THEATER - DAY

They came to see the cleavage.

Men wearing Dockers or laced in FUBU thronged the ornate Arclight Theater. Half the male populace of LA, it seemed, was lined up to see jiggle-licious Halle Berry bringing the heat in the James Bond flick "Die Another Day."

We came to see the cleavage as well. Although my two girlfriends and I claimed that we just wanted to support a black actress starring in a big-budget action movie, we were really there to applaud Halle's takeover of Tinsel Town. With a flawless complexion, a body to die for, and more power moves than a military coup, she was our superhero in stilettos. Whether or not you think she has talent, you have to give her props for being fearless enough to call the shots in this town.

I have never been a huge fan of Halle's, but I bonded with this Bond woman because I understand the role she has to play to survive in this industry game. As a screenwriter and author living in LA, I sometimes feel like a double agent. I've endured land-mined business meetings, booby-trapped social circles and double-dealing allies just to "make it." As people of color in the industry, we learn to front, lie and wheedle--and that's just on our lunch breaks. Our minds have become militarized zones in order to penetrate the elusive inner circle. Although I don't condone some of the tactics we use to "get over," I still find myself conforming to them. For example, I was simply going to see Halle's movie with some friends, but I still donned my uniform--a halter top and heels--for the occasion. God forbid I should be seen at the popcorn stand by an industry bigwig without having my game face on.

EXT. MOVIE THEATER

As my friends and I were exiting "Die Another Day" on our way to Starbucks, we bumped into a well-known director and his friend. The five of us chatted as we strolled to our cars, and I was trying to think of the right moment to mention my writing career. Many powerbrokers are so leery of being used that you have to be extra careful not to cross the line between optimism and opportunism. I tried to finesse this chance encounter into a mobile business meeting, but it wasn't an easy mission. The director had an urban "Doonesbury" type of humor, and his sublime observations about the plight of blacks in entertainment were delivered with poised indifference. As I racked my brain for something clever to say, I remarked that I was glad we had chosen the Bond flick over Ice Cube's new film. When the director asked me why, I responded that I had no intention on seeing Cube's picture because of its inherent minstrelsy.

DIRECTOR
(sadly)
Ah, the 'cooning' of black American film.

I realized that I had touched a nerve because several of his movies fell into that unfortunate category. I'd also made the mistake of mixing pleasure with politics, and his waning interest in me was proof of my error. The tragedy of this encounter was not that I had possibly forfeited an opportunity to get my book made into a movie, but that Tinsel Town had forced this director to be a double agent as well. Even though he has strong opinions against the perpetuation of  "coonish" images in Black movies, he can't articulate  these sentiments in his films; he can only give the studios more of what sells at the box office. Encrypted in our meeting was the message that Blacks can be fly or educated, but we can't be both--not in Hollywood.

EXT. COFFEE SHOP - LATER

One girlfriend was offended that the director had not accompanied us to Starbucks, but I was glad that I didn't have to ingest his jaded intellectualism along with my latte. Besides, it was much more fun to dish the Hollywood dirt amongst ourselves. The three of us sat and traded La La Land experiences with the smugness of war veterans relishing their Purple Hearts. As three small town girls, long on hope but short on connections, we should have been busting somebody's suds or giving lap dances on Sunset. Yet, we had survived and were relentlessly pursuing our dreams. As we giggled over our java, we realized that we had come a long way, but had given up a lot in the process. We had to tone down our intelligence and step up our exercise routines. We had to trade in hanging with our homies for lunch with the in-crowd in West Hollywood. It started to seem like the joke was on us.

FLASHBACK:

INT. INDUSTRY PARTY - NIGHT

TITLE CARD: APRIL 2000

I'm perched by the speakers scoping out the landscape. The Moet is flowing and the urban aristocracy is making its rounds through the rhinestone-spangled room. There is enough synthetic hair and polyester clothing in this joint to alert the fire marshal, but I have to brave the impending inferno to make some contacts for my screenplays.

Even though I'm dayjobbing as a secretary, I have business cards that proclaim I am a writer. This bold act alone legitimizes my presence at the party. But I later discover that most of my business card carrying comrades are undercover as well. I meet producers who work part-time at FedEx and starlets who are sleeping on futons and rolling around in leased Beamers that they can't afford. But we've all adopted the art of camouflage to make names for ourselves in Black Hollywood. "The important people see you coming" is a motto often uttered and subscribed to at these functions, even if it means wrecking your whole paycheck on an outfit, or living with five roommates just so you can cruise around town in an E-Class Mercedes.

When I first started frequenting industry events, I had "Yokel" stamped all over the blazers and elastic-waisted pants that I wore. No one would look at the fat girl with the tacky weave and I was certain that I held the patent on invisibility. Even though I considered myself pretty intelligent and a good writer, those attributes alone weren't getting me on the VIP list. Only after I dropped the weight was I able to get through certain doors. Then I became a monster. Like most women who slim down, I went shopping for tight, chic clothes to show off my new physique. I befriended ballers so I could shimmy my way up the baller hierarchy. I wasn't sleeping around but my smile was promiscuous. I had learned that "thin is in" in La La Land, and I was going to milk my svelteness for everything it was worth.

When you get caught up in the world of intrigue that industry parties provide, it's easy to lose sight of what's really important. Circulating in VIP circles, getting invited to exclusive bashes and being within breathing distance of a celebrity can elevate a girl to star status (if only in her own mind). It was a sign of success to be able to tell friends back home that I got a chronic buzz while interviewing a gangsta rapper on the set of his latest movie or that I ate fries and did Tequila shots at a famous comedian's house. But despite the new alliances I had gained, nothing could compare with the loneliness of losing myself.

Despite all of my soiree-hopping, deep down inside I know that life is more than cliques and chips. Inexorable sadness envelops me as I lean back against the speakers, and this melancholy is hitting my heart as hard as the bass in a Busta Rhymes song. Being an industry hopeful is such a delicate dance. You have to learn all of the twists, dips and turns to stay abreast of this minuet--when all you really wanted to do was dance solo.

END FLASHBACK

EXT. COFFEESHOP - NIGHT
  
Our monthly gabfest completed, my friends and I headed back to our cars in the parking structure. At the back of our minds was this question: Was the sacrifice worth it? Couldn't we just get normal jobs and live like normal people? Not unless we planned on packing up and heading out of town on the first thing smoking. But there's something intriguing to me about going into combat daily in this cutthroat industry and being able to say that I narrowly escaped the clutches of destruction. For this black chick, life in La La Land can be just like a James Bond flick. You emerge with a mere bullet wound from one skirmish or a laceration from another battle only to die another day.

FADE TO BLACK.

--Nicole D. Sconiers is an author, screenwriter and poet living in the sunny jungle of Los Angeles. She is the author of "California Schemin': The Black Woman's Guide To Surviving in LA," which tackles the obstacles that many women of color face in La La Land: casting couches, fake hair woes and a culture obsessed with body image.  Nicole is also a freelance writer who has interviewed movers-and-shakers such as Russell Simmons, Spike Lee, Kweisi Mfume, Kathy Hughes, Snoop Dogg, Dr. Dre, Gabrielle Union, Vivica Fox, Gil Scott-Heron and Luther Vandross to name a few. She currently pens a bi-monthly column "Dysfunctional Diva Diatribe" on the creative resistance e-zine www.getunderground.com and is the creator of the entertainment website www.california-schemin.com.  She has currently optioned her first screenplay, "Bless the Mic."

f2b Feature

Dianne Houston   
"Scripting Scripts in Hollywood"
--by Deardra Shuler

Dianne Houston looks regal as she lounges on the green divan drinking herbal tea. A quick glimpse into her eyes reveals a woman comfortable in her own skin. There is a serenity that exudes from Houston. One senses that she is confident and very much in touch with herself and her creative spirit. Her light hair and chiseled features harmonize perfectly with her mocha complexion as she chatted amicably about her life in the entertainment industry.

Houston, who was raised in Washington, D.C., began working professionally in the theatre at age 16. "I really went to college by fluke. I was already working in my profession so I didn't think I needed college. Then a producer in a show in which I was performing absconded with the entire show payload. It was right about then, that my grandmother stepped in and said "how about college now?" Houston attended Howard University where she discovered her true love. "It was a wonderful thing that I went to Howard because I found my true love was not acting at all, but directing. My formal training in college was in directing. I began directing professionally and writing for theatre. My first plays were produced around 1977. One of the first plays I wrote and directed was called "The Fishermen" which played at Washington's Back Alley Theatre, and still tours college campuses."

Soon afterward, Dianne began to do fringe and experimental theatre, first in New York, then in Berlin and Amsterdam. A whole new world opened up for Dianne. "It was an amazing time for me. I had experiences with Joe Papp, Joe Chaiken and Ntozake Shange. I studied with Marquetta Kimbrell and with Peter Brook's company. Working closely with artists all over the world shaped my own mind set as an artist. Although, I am an African American, I developed a worldview and not solely and specifically an African American community view. "The experiences I have had," continues the screenwriter... "serve to substantiate my position as a world citizen."

As an artist, Houston feels part of something much larger than simply the community she grew up in and tries to incorporate what she has learned as a citizen of the world in her work. "I am a product of all I have been exposed to and that is the content that informs all the work I do, whether its in theatre, film, writing for television or when I am producing or directing," says the multi-talented creator.

In 1990, Houston became bi-coastal, traveling back and forth between LA and NY writing for screen and television. "I did a little stint in Chicago writing the show, "Brewster Place" for Winfrey's Company, HARPO. Winfrey is a far better actress than people give her credit for. She is one of the more intuitive actresses I have ever worked with. Her heart as a human being is so large and compassionate, that it influences her work as an artist. I have tremendous respect for Oprah and find her to be a truly generous soul," states Houston.

In 1994, the prolific writer found herself making a permanent move to California where she wrote and directed her first short film, starring Ruby Dee and Bill Cobbs, entitled "Tuesday Morning Ride." The film won her an Oscar nomination in 1996, making Houston the first black female director to be nominated for an Academy Award. "That was a mad crazy time because that particular year Jesse Jackson was protesting the Oscars. I felt like... 'Oh come on, not now!' But the good news is that I had a wonderful experience."

During the career of this screenwriter/producer/thespian/ director, a few key people have stepped forward to support her in her goals. "I was in need of funding for an extra day of shooting my film when Oprah Winfrey came through for me as a financial backer. I love and respect Oprah so much that I didn't want to be one of the folks standing in line with my hand out. However, the film meant so much to me that I ended up contacting her. I told Oprah I would send her the script, but before she even got it, she had already sent me the money. "Oprah is one of the few well seeded and wonderful people in my career who have believed in me and demonstrated their belief. One other is Jane Rosenthal, the prolific producer who, with Robert DeNiro, heads up the Tribeca Film Center. When people believe in you, its one thing if they believe in you quietly and keep it to themselves, but its another, if they actually go out on a limb and say "Step into this world, I am holding open the door for you." Oprah and Jane did that for me and I will always be grateful."

Houston has worked at her craft nonstop since the beginning. "Making it" is an ongoing process. I guess you can say I've 'made it' in that I am working at my craft and am extremely successful in what I do. As a matter of fact, since college, I have been fortunate enough to have worked solely at my craft." And, work she has. Having written for the industry non-stop for over 15 years, pumping out assignments at the rate of 4 or 5 a year, Houston has a proliferation of projects, produced, and yet to be produced.

In addition to writing, directing and producing for Steven Bochco's "City of Angels", starring Blair Underwood; Houston wrote and produced "The Education of Max Bickford" starring Richard Dreyfuss. She has directed for many television series, including NYPD BLUE; SOUL FOOD; STRONG MEDICINE; CROSSING JORDAN; and PRESIDIO MED. "Presidio Med" was my favorite television directing experience. I got to work with Anna Deavere-Smith, who played opposite Jack Klugman. Both Klugman and Smith were fantastic to direct. Unfortunately, the night our episode was supposed to air, the series was cancelled and never got shown. But that's the business", shrugged Houston.

Dianne finds herself currently working on several intriguing projects: a T.V. movie on Harriet Tubman for CBS set to star Angela Bassett; and a feature film for New Line Films. "This film is about inner city kids and ballroom dancing. It's quite different and very magical. I tend to lean toward the magical in everything." Houston also has a feature film that is in pre-production. "It is far afield of anything I have ever done before. There are a lot of computer generated effects in this piece which is a comedy called "A Little Monster Movie."

"I have a stack of scripts that I plan to direct, and ideas waiting to be written. I always have something on the burner."

A vegetarian since a teen, Houston knows the importance of maintaining a good health regimen. She rides horses, meditates and enjoys yoga and Tai Chi. Although, a private person regarding her personal life, Houston enjoys doing fun things. "I don't ski very well because I simply can't imagine why I would be in a hurry to get down a steep hill", chuckled Houston, whose idea of a perfect ski vacation is sitting by the fire with a good book.

A proponent of end of life issues, Houston received the "Health, Heritage, and Hope Award" on February 3, 2002, from the Initiative to Improve Palliative Care for African-Americans (IIPCA) organization. "My own introduction into palliative care was during the time that I was nursing my mother. In fact, the film "Tuesday Morning Ride," dealt with some end of life situations. I have also written and directed some things for television that deal with the subject matter. I found myself cast into my own personal take on the end of life issue during my mom's transition. Thus, I am an advocate for palliative care. People should be aware that dying is a process that involves the entire family. It's not just the person who is dying that is making the transition, the entire energy and dynamics of the family changes as a result of it. It doesn't change after the transition, but rather it begins as the transition begins. There is a whole fascinating area there. I believe that a significant part of life is how we exit life."

Houston is a well rounded individual who holds to a humanistic political view. "My message to everyone right now is, wake up and take part in the world. The world is changing dramatically. We are world citizens. The truth is, the moment we begin looking at anyone as an OTHER that is a mistake. We can't start taking critical and accusing looks at people because they are Middle Eastern, without seeing that honey, we are middle easterners, too. Wake up! Stop being followers and take an active part in the world."

--Deardra Shuler is a journalist in the New York City area.  She serves as the Entertainment Editor of the Black Star News and free-lances for several minority print and Internet papers.  She has a background in concert promotion, theatre and radio.  Presently, Ms. Shuler is the producer of the cable television program, "Audrey's Whirl."   She is also the host of her own radio talk show, "Topically Yours," on the BlakeRadio Network.