THE AGENT

THE AGENT

The agent relationship is one of the strangest in this business. You pay someone a percentage to fight for you — but you can't make them fight, you can't sit in the room when they're meant to be talking about you, and you spend a lot of your career wondering if anything is actually happening.

Let me start at the beginning. Where I came from and how I achieved my first professional musical was the journey of a young twenty-one-year-old who, like thousands of others, had dreamt of getting into musical theatre. In particular the West End. That was all I wanted.

I didn't have an agent. I had barely started the journey to becoming a professional MT actor. So I didn't need one until I was in my first job. Why? Because everyone was telling me "you need an agent." I saw no rush. But eventually I found one.

I had four agents at different times in my career. The first one was a recommendation from a cast member — several of them were already with him. You don't always get to meet them instantly. It's through dialogue, emails, a slow build. But when I was in Edinburgh and went on as Javert, he travelled all the way from Yeovil to come and see me. That was nice. He was very theatrical — I sort of like that. You know they live and breathe it.

It was all very friendly. And because I was already in the show, he didn't take commission until he renegotiated the next contract.

The percentage in those days was twelve percent — fifteen percent for TV. Oh, how times have changed. And what you should be getting for that cut is someone who is invested in your career and development. Someone who knows the industry well, has the contacts, and is able to talk to you straight when needed. Which I like. I wanted more of a manager than an agent — and while some say they do both, it didn't transpire most of the time.

The one thing you really need — the most important thing — is for them to get you in the audition room. To be seen by great producers and great directors. That is the job.

No, I don't feel I ever had an agent who really fought for me. At least not in the way I wanted. And that matters. At the end of the day, I am paying them to find me work. I go in and secure the work — or don't. But the door has to be opened first. And as a young actor you can be bamboozled into doing as you're told and believing every word. Believe me — I got wiser as time went on.

The most painful part is waiting for the phone call. Hearing that you have an audition. Any normal actor will eventually get itchy feet and call the agent — "it's been three months, I haven't had anything." And then the lame answers about why that is, and how hard they're working for you.

Now — I get it. I have been on the other side. I ran a small, bijou agency for actors myself. So I know it's a lot to carry. And if you're not getting your actors auditions, you do end up in these conversations. Their answers are probably factual. But it doesn't mean they get to sit back and do nothing.

Even if you get the line "I have other actors I represent, I can't give all my time to you" — I want a plan. A direction. What if nothing comes for six months? What's the strategy then?

And then — eventually — you get the soft version of "darling, you know I love you, but nothing's happening, no one's shortlisting you for auditions." That is the agent saying I can't get you anything, and therefore it must be your fault. You usually part company at that point. I don't mind it — I can see it coming a mile off — so I normally get in first and leave them. They have essentially abandoned you and they take no responsibility for it.

That was the point where I said: no more.

I have never had an agent after the fourth one. And this was in my major years of MT — in the West End. From then on, I represented myself.

Let me tell you something about being on the other side of that desk. Running my own agency taught me what the job actually is. I am a "say it like it is" kind of guy. Not in a horrible way — I'm a realist. A lot of actors want it to be fluffy and nice, and I'm fluffy and nice at times — but if I am working tirelessly to find the right auditions for a client and they keep not being selected, eventually I have to weigh up — have I done all I can? Is it me?

And if it is, I will say it. "I just don't have enough connections in that particular area." And the actor is well within their rights to say "then I'm going to have to leave you." That's fine. It's disappointing — because if I believed in you, I'd have wanted to work on a strategy to improve the odds. But most leave at that point. And I accept it. It's the reality of that role.

But here's the flip side, and this is the bit actors never want to hear. I have had solid plans for clients. Told them the plan. Told them exactly what I needed them to do to stand out more and make my suggestions to casting directors more solid. And then they would do nothing. "Yeah, I'll do that next week." That isn't someone who wants to work with me. I will work night and day for a committed actor on my books. It is a two-way relationship. I will use every avenue, every contact, every casting site I have access to. But I cannot physically make a casting director see a client. It doesn't mean I haven't tried bloody hard to make it happen.

What I never had — but wanted — was the personal friendship to go with the management. Someone I could be really honest with, so we both learned how the other operated. A streamlined working relationship, both on the same page. But that rarely materialises early on. You don't get given that depth of relationship; you have to grow it.

For me personally — I gave everything I had to that business. But I was a tiny individual, not a major talent agency. A small fish in a big pond. But boy, did I swim well.

When I went self-represented, I did it because I knew I could put myself up for whatever I believed I was right for. Not having an agent decide I wasn't right for a show and quietly not putting me forward for it. Because if there is one thing I know — it is myself.

It was liberating. It was hard. But I was pushing myself to be seen, and I did get seen. Producers and casting directors don't care that you're self-represented. The only time it comes into play is getting through an assistant who is filtering submissions and may not know you personally, or who doesn't bother to read your credits fully. That was the big part of getting seen. They look at the major West End credits and sometimes — not always — there is a right of passage thing. They appreciate you as a professional. They know you must have some sort of talent to have been in those productions in the first place.

So my advice — and many will disagree with me, this is just my experience — do not rely solely on the agent's advice. It is not always the right advice. You have to take charge of your own career. The agent works for you. Not the other way round. And if they are not working for you, you have to be brave enough to say it — or brave enough to walk.

Now at fifty-seven, wanting a comeback career, I may have to lean on an agent again — just to get me back in the room. I can get an agent. But again, if they don't do the work or give the support, I won't be with them for long. I have done it once on my own. I can do it again.

Take charge of your own career. That is the lesson. And don't be afraid to walk away from the people who aren't walking with you.

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