Hollywood’s talent industry gathered at the Bevery Hilton Wednesday for its annual schmooze-a-palooza, the Artios Awards, by which casting directors recognize themselves for excellence in their field, since no one else does (oops, except for the Emmys). The packed sit-down dinner/show can be a bit of a grind for veterans, but the real action is in the lobby before (and during) the show, where casting directors, agents, managers, and others who service the casting community (such as my online publisher here, Breakdown Services) gather to chat, kibitz, hold forth, hug, air-kiss, and otherwise hobnob with their peers.

In his opening remarks, Casting Society of America president Gary Zuckerbrod made hopeful reference, over the din of several persistent conversations, to his dream of unionizing casting directors with the help and input of agents and managers, those famously union-friendly professionals. Opening warm-up by actor (and columnist for The Weekly Standard) Larry Miller was brief, with pro forma jokes about what casting directors must wish they could say. To actors: "They’re not going a different way, you just stink." To producers or directors: "Perhaps your casting goals are unrealistic." And he asked rhetorically, "Does every single part in America go to DeNiro first, and then 10 guys later, to Peter Coyote?"

Producer Laura Ziskin presented a Career Achievement Award to veteran director Frank Pierson, saying he gave her the best advice about casting: "Cast someone who’s already 80 percent the part." (I think they call it "typecasting," Laura.) Pierson recommended a new name for the Artios, the "Saved My Ass" awards, since that’s what casting directors had done for him "so many times."

Jeff Bridges gave a hearty speech of appreciation for casting pioneer Lynn Stalmaster, whose TV credits span from Gunsmoke to Chicago Hope and whose feature credits cover everything from West Side Story to 9 1/2 Weeks (both films featuring strenuous choreography in outdoor urban settings). Bridges credited Stalmaster not only for giving him and his brother Beau their first roles (in Halls of Anger and Gaily, Gaily, respectively) but for giving Jeff the part that convinced him acting could be a serious profession, in The Iceman Cometh. In a stirring film of clips from Lynn’s illustrious career, interspersed with testimonials from the likes of Jon Voight, Christopher Reed, and Richard Dreyfuss, John Travolta’s words stood out: "I love you, Lynn. There clearly is no better casting director in the business, and I don’t think there ever will be."

For his part, Stalmaster gave a very quotable speech, first paying tribute to his father, Judge Irwin Stalmaster, who gave up a thriving career in Omaha, Nebraska, to move to L.A.—not so aspiring actor Lynn could become a movie star but because the youngster had severe bronchial asthma. He said he’s lived by the words, "Leap and the net will appear. It has been an unexpected, unplanned, magical journey all the way." And he said that "having been an aspiring actor gave me compassion and insight into the lack of control actors feel. I’ve felt that my job has been to reach out a helping hand and be instrumental in introducing trained actors into film and television work." He called casting directors "mental athletes; we must have an awareness of acting talent worldwide, because we never know where or when we’ll find the answer to satisfy the director’s vision, and do it all without compromise." His assessment of the assembled: "You are a rare breed, a limited edition species. From my vantage point, casting is alive and well in the new millennium." And his advice: "We must be open—my favorite word. Remain open, trust your instincts, and above all, relish the adventure."

The Old Globe’s Jack O’Brien, who regularly directs on Broadway both musicals (Hairspray, The Full Monty) and straight plays (The Invention of Love), received a New York Apple Award, a special award recognizing an individual for great work with New York casting directors. And Jane Jenkins and Alice S. Cassidy received an honorary Artios for producing the show for 19 years; they’ve passed the baton to Dawn Steinberg. Jane dedicated her award to the memory of Warner Brothers CD Barbara Miller, who died last month.

Without further ado, here are the winners: For Feature Film Drama, Daniel Swee for The Hours; Feature Film Comedy, Lisa Beach, Sarah Katzman, and John Jackson for About Schmidt; Independent Feature Film, Ellen Parks for Secretary; MOW, Lindy Lowy and Jane Alderman (location casting) for Normal; Miniseries, Susan Glicksman and Alex Wald for Hitler: The Rise of Evil (an upset that garnered some boos); Daytime Episodic, Judy Blye Wilson for All My Children (another upset, as there were many passionate Passions advocates in the house); Animated Voiceover, TV, Eileen Mack Knight for The Proud Family; Animated Voiceover, Film, Ruth Lambert for Lilo & Stitch; Dramatic Episodic, Junie Lowry Johnson for Six Feet Under; Comedy Episodic, the no-longer-partnered Ronnie Yeskel and Richard Hicks, Curb Your Enthusiasm; Dramatic Pilot, Alexa L. Fogel and Pat Moran (Baltimore casting), The Wire; Comedy Pilot, Geraldine Leder for Oliver Beene; Theatre Drama, Bernard Telsey and William Cantler for Long Day’s Journey Into Night; Theatre Comedy, Daniel Swee for Dinner at Eight; Musical Theatre, Telsey and Cantler for Hairspray; Off-Broadway Theatre, Nina Pratt for The Exonerated; Regional Theatre, Big River, Amy Lieberman and Bruce H. Newberg; L.A. Theatre, Tony Sepulveda (yes, Tony Sepulveda) for Beverly Winwood Presents the Actors Showcase (which he also directed).

And so the one-night spotlight on the overlooked, much-disputed art of casting flashes off and out for another year.

Hollywood Tourguide

A tour of the Hollywood area with Breakdown field rep Gerard Marin is information-packed and observation-heavy. I could barely keep up with him as we tooled down Wilshire toward the high-rise on the corner of La Brea—you know, the Samsung/Asahi/Mutual of Omaha building (that last reference dates me, but that’s how I remember it). A furniture showroom and a high-turnover restaurant space occupy the La Brea side of the ground floor (the current eatery, Luna Park, is supposed to be good, but the last one, the hip Chinese place Lucky Duck, was plenty good and it didn’t last), while the fourth and fifth floor are all casting, all the time.

On the fifth floor is Reuben Cannon and Kim Williams’ office—recently given a feng shui makeover (though this clearly did not extend to the narrow waiting area)—and across the quaint lobby is Richard Hicks’ office. Cannon and Williams cast Half and Half and The Parkers, while Hicks’ office is currently dark. On the fourth floor are the spacious, well-appointed offices Juel Bestrop and Anne McCarthy (the Ice Cube starrer Are We There Yet?), across from the office of Julie Ashton (the sitcom Luis).

One staff change on this floor: Blythe Cappello, who’s worked for years with Bestrop/McCarthy, left the office this week to take the new position of Director of Casting for Spike TV, located in Santa Monica’s MTV building. Interesting that they’ve hired a woman to nab talent for a niche network described in its PR as "the first network for men."

As we left, Marin noted that Cannon is friends with Oprah, probably dating back to his casting The Color Purple. For my part, I noted a "Vote No on Recall" sign on Bestrop/McCarthy’s door. I couldn’t help noting also that a nearby high-rise, the VNU/BPI/Carnation building (there I go, dating myself again), houses my former employer. The offices of Back Stage West—where, incidentally, my replacement as Editor, Tomm Carroll, was abruptly fired this week after a month on the job—are on the fifth floor, below the offices of The Hollywood Reporter, Billboard, Adweek, etc.

As we drove up La Brea and passed the offices of the Casting Studios, which does commercials, I wondered aloud: Is it a coincidence that the casting directors who call themselves the Funky Ferrets are located over a Petco store?

As we drove east past Hollywood Center Studios, Gerard observed that while there are many casting offices in Hollywood, there aren’t as many permanent or concentrated casting offices or departments, as there are, say, in the Valley. More typical are temporary renters, CDs who set up offices to cast a feature here, an MOW there, often in unlikely places—over storefronts, behind liquor stores, in unprepossessing office parks.

Sometimes independent CDs will take an unlikely location as their permanent home base. In the case of Bonnie Zane and Gayle Pillsbury, who cast Miss Match, George Lopez, and Drew Carey, among others, "home base" could almost be taken literally: They’re encamped in a lovely little Craftsman house with a white picket fence. Associate Brett Greenstein is credited with finding the place a year and half ago, on a quaint stretch of Larchmont Blvd. that’s lined by a number of "old houses turned into businesses," Brett told me. Brett and associate Stacy Levy are up front across from Zane’s office; the living room/side entry makes a lovely waiting room, and in the back are reading rooms and a kitchen. What, no bedrooms to crash after a late night casting? Brett said that despite its authentically homey appearance, the house had hosted businesses there before. Across the street is Finn/Hiller Casting (the features All Day Long, Crash, and Stealth), which was also a house "back in the day," Brett said. And not far across the street is the 1960s-vintage office building that houses the Casting Society of America.

Next up was one of the few places in Hollywood where casting directors are centrally located on a lot: Paramount. Parking is a challenge, Gerard indicated, but we found a spot off Gower on Waring without much problem (just down the street from the beloved old Cast Theatre). The Gower walk-in entrance, Gerard explained, is the friendliest. The Melrose gate practically does a cavity search, while the Van Ness gate on the East side, Gerard told me, has bomb-sniffing dogs and mirrors to check under vehicles. Paramount, in his experience, is the studio that has kept its security tightest post-Sept. 11, while other lots, after an initial crackdown, have since loosened up a bit.

Once on the lot, though, we were back in Old Hollywood. (Did designers of the Grove at Farmers Market take a few pointers from the idyllic walkway near the south front of the lot?) Past the chatter of the child care playground, we stopped at Jeff Greenberg’s cozy longtime digs (a small space for such a busy office, currently handling Frasier, I’m With Her, It’s All Relative, According to Jim), then wandered around the corner to the conjoined offices of Libby Goldstein (Six Feet Under) and Ron Surma (Enterprise). On the other side of the lot, we walked past episodic casting head Sheila Guthrie’s spacious office, and Gerard pointed out low-slung trailers along these Eastside buildings: These are the casting "offices" for untested new series or low-budget features. The redheaded stepchildren, I guess.

On the glass doors to the Gower exit as we left, I noticed an interesting admonition: "NO BICYCLES THROUGH LOBBY." Gerard explained that there are loaner bikes for the taking to get around the lot (until you trade up to one of those cool golf carts). Old Hollywood, indeed. (I kept looking for air-chute message tubes shuttling parcels between offices, but alas, not every time warp is perfect.)

As we left and Gerard offered a friendly farewell to the boys in uniform, he gave this actor-directed advice: "Always be nice to the security guards—they’re you’re ticket onto the lot, or not." With a tourguide so familiar to all the gatekeepers, assistants, and CDs, I think I had the best ticket in the house.