Shooting straight: Confessions of a film festival driver
Dispatches from within the film industry
‘I pick up actors, directors and various media big knobs from airports, drive them around and look after their every need. Actors, male or female are usually quite stupid and just want to keep their low level addictions fed. I’ve found myself in some of the very worst areas of the city trying to score cocaine with some of Hollywood’s most famous actors in the back of the car. Some of them get off on the danger of it, and will beg and beg until you take them with you. But I know that if the police stopped us they would let me take the heat and my bosses would deny they know anything.
‘Directors are worse than actors, though. Being a majority male profession, most directors have a God complex and believe you should be at their beck and call 24 hours a day. Their PAs usually take my mobile number on arrival and then the phone calls start at 3am the following morning – they’ve been up all night with a local hooker and need a fresh bag of Bolivian marching powder or they’ll never nail that important Q&A tomorrow following the screening of their pathetic new film. They cry down the phone, some of them tell of how their gap year experiences in Vietnam or Grenada turned them into drug addicts. I usually relent and get the goods for them. The next day these nocturnal shenanigans are never even acknowledged as I drive their semi-conscious forms around local areas of interest.
Actors and directors are nothing compared to producers. Their highs are all wealth based. They ask me to drive out to the huge properties they own in the neighbouring countryside. They get out of the car and breathe in the air and get back in again. I’m surprised they don’t get their penis out and start measuring it for my benefit.’
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