Stranger in Town

by Greg Levrault

On May 21st, America was witnessing the coronation of the latest American Idol. I knew Ruben had it locked, so I went to the Cape Girardeau Holiday Inn instead. In their backyard, two representatives from Millie Lewis International, one of the world's most distinguished talent scouting agencies, were looking for the next superstar.

No, I wasn't auditioning, I swear -I was there to see the circus, to watch the gathering crowd as they were sifted through, prospected over for diamonds in the rough. I was there to watch hundreds of people line up for the chance to win the fame lottery. I was there on the chance that I might be witnessing history, the writing of the first page of a story about a local kid that makes real good. I was there to take pictures of the aspiring models. Just doing my job.

The first rep I met was Carol Johnson, from New York. Her introduction to the business had been in front of the camera (she looks like Tyra Banks) but that had been unfulfilling for her. Her experience in other careers led her to artist representation; eventually, she ran her own company for about a decade. After 9/11, she had trouble convincing companies to work in New York. When Millie Lewis offered her the chance to come aboard, she took it.

Carol felt close to Millie Lewis' mission. Millie Lewis had been a model and a very renowned one. In 1960, she started a talent agency, instilled with the integrity and morality that she felt the industry needed. Even since, Millie Lewis has been about strict standards and integrity, and the best callback record in the business.

The other rep, Michael Petry, was giving the lecture in the main room. He was a former high school English teacher; you could hear it in his voice. He was also a former model - he looked like John Mayer, but ready for the football team. For the starlets and supporters in the room, he began to deliver a "realistic education" about trying to find work in the talent industries. He talked about his own experiences as a model and aspiring soap actor. He dished advice on dealing with auditions, agents, managers, and the hundreds of no's out there waiting for everyone who dares to walk the model's path. He reminded constantly that, beyond looks or talent, the secrets to industry success were personality, self-respect, and perseverance.

An hour into the lecture, toddlers began squirming in their mothers' laps and people began checking their watches. While Michael continued to throw cold water on the audience, I began talking with the beautiful people.

I talked with Ms Carrie Golden, who would be graduating from Jackson High School the next day. She was a tall blonde, and certainly pretty, but why else had she come to the talent search? She told me that most of her classmates were getting things like tattoos to celebrate graduation; she wanted to do something different, something daring.

I took a picture of Marland Heard and his girlfriend, Elizabeth Martin. Both qualified for the definition of 'beautiful people,' but Marland was wearing what, to me, looked like a prom tux. I thought he was overdoing it. His girlfriend, on the other hand, seemed a shoe-in. I began to feel bad that one would probably get picked and the other would have to wait outside.

I tried not to trip over Bryanne Ramos, from Cape. She was as cute and smiley as any four-year-old should be, but she was also fearless and energetic. Her mother, Shena, found an ad for the talent search in the SE Missourian. Upon receiving the ad, Bryanne ran around the house with it, waving it like a flag.

After the lecture, Michael announced the start of the audition. Each person would have one walk of the runway, one smile for the audience and judges. Each performer would have 30 seconds to sing, 30 seconds to act. When the judges said "Thank you," all of us in the audience would applaud, and it was time to get off the stage.

I understand that with several busloads of people to audition, some economy is necessary. And perhaps a professional would know what to look for in 30 seconds. I couldn't. But after the 200th wannabe walked onstage, I understood why Simon Cowell's so cranky.

When everyone's auditioned, the judges convene to split up the choices. Meanwhile, the audience gets to watch another name-dropping video about the next revue.

Ten minutes later, Michael returned for his final lecture. Like any respectable high school teacher, he repeats his intended lesson three times. Especially for those who he won't see again, he reminds them of the capriciousness of the business, the dangers of those who take advantage of starry-eyed wallets, the strength of character and tenacity required to survive... I know this stuff; I took notes.

Then he begins calling out names (the first time I've ever heard an English teacher do roll call at the end of the class.) I watch the crowd, seeing little faces try to hold in squeals as their names are pronounced approximately. He asks the people that he's announced to follow Carol outside (because the crowd for the 7 o'clock show is getting impatient), while he will talk to the other half in the room.

I've seen this bit on TV, too. On TV, they set up a line of three or four auditioning singers, they ask two to step forward, and then send the back line home - sometimes. Sometimes, it's the front line. They don't want you to know until it's time to know. At this moment, I just stayed in the room because I was feeling lazy. Am I about to witness joy or heartbreak?

Michael waits until the doors are closed before he begins to speak. "This is the hardest part of the evening," he says. "But since I'm in charge, I took the easy job..." They're in! I'm in a room full of winners! I feel validated that either chance or sloth led me to this level of hobnobbery.

Michael tells them that this first step is only a first step. Now, there's just the matter of paperwork, of raising $500, of going to St Louis for the regional showcase, which is when they'll actually meet all those producers and casting agents.

While he talks the auditioners through their victory lap, I scan the crowd. Bryanne's in the room, and so is Marland the Tuxedo. Marland's girlfriend isn't, which flip-flops what I would have predicted. Carrie's not here, and I wonder how long she'd stay outside, once she knew. At least she's graduating.

I don't find Carrie after we leave, but I do run into Marland and his girlfriend. Elizabeth's elated for Marland; Marland's in shock. It turns out that Elizabeth heard a radio ad about the talent search, and thought it would be perfect - for Marland. His mom agreed, but I wonder if the tux was her idea. They went off to celebrate, and I got my next roll of film ready for the second crowd.

The Millie Lewis search had been divided into 4 PM and 7PM sessions. However, the Millie Lewis crew had underestimated just how many aspiring models, actors, and singers there were in Cape Girardeau. Over 400 people showed up in total; they ran out of seats, but not applications.

Since Michael was giving the lecture again, I decided to wait outside with Carol and her assistant. The assistant was supermodel pretty, and I wondered what sort of war stories she had to offer about the modeling game. As it turned out, she was a local girl on a temp job, and she'd never considered modeling.

I asked her why she didn't get in line and take her shot. "I would, but I'm working right now," she said.

"Me, too." I said.

Carol shared her stories with me, about her experiences in the industry on both sides of the camera, about the fragility of success in the industry. She believed in what the company was trying to do for all these curious people dipping their toes in the water of fashion. Whether or not they join Millie Lewis, Carol said, "when they leave here, they know what to do."

So that's why Michael talks so long.

But it's apparent from the first word that they really do care; they want to keep these dreams alive in the people. They know they're dealing with dreams, so they try not to discourage anybody. I need to see this for myself, so I make sure I stick with Carol for the second half.

By 11 o'clock, the reps have seen enough, and Michael does roll call. I know what's coming, so I look for Carol. I knew Carol was counting the names when I found her. "Don't worry, I got your back," I said, as Carol led the crowd assigned her to the outside.

For a second, I thought about PT Barnum inviting people to visit the Egress. But my smirk vanished as I watched the stream of people coming outside, mostly unaware of the decision made.

She broke the news to them that they would have another shot, next year. She gave several of the innoculous reasons that people are judged unsuitable: height, shyness, complexion, and such... She asked them to think about tonight and what they really wanted, and to work for it. Most of the crowd stayed and listened stoically; I saw one or two in shock, digesting the information, realizing that they were outside for a reason.

Over 300 would attend that night; only 20 would be chosen. They would have ten days to decide if they wanted to try the odds again in St Louis, where they would mingle with the chosen from Lafayette, Terra Haute, Evansville, and all points Midwest. For everybody else... next year, the circus would return to town.