Steve Towsley"The Animated Journalist"

I Prepare to Part the Red Sea in Miniature (1966)
Three years after the above event I was at USC's Cinema School, in five years I was a reviewer for the Hollywood Reporter & member of the Hollywood Press Club, in six I owned a recording studio in Indiana, in eight I gave VIP Tours & served in the mailroom inside Universal Studios while co-producing and photographing a highly praised feature film in Super8mm, which was screened for John Landis, Verna Fields, Monique James and other movie veterans, while becoming managing editor of MCA/Universal's company newspaper, MCA INK -- and I STILL couldn't get a break into some creative job in or out of the famed Universal Black Tower. It took a major management overhaul within Universal Pictures for me, the USC-trained artist, filmmaker and recording engineer with film writing credits and an acclaimed Super8 feature film under the belt, to finally move up into a creative-related area of the business.

You see, every industry guest speaker who lectured us students in USC's Cinema Department had hammered us with the life-or-death advice that there was ONLY ONE WAY not to fail in Hollywood -- to HOUND the established producers and power brokers and NEVER, EVER QUIT. "Hound us," we USC students were instructed, "and keep hounding us!"

I remember David Picker telling us that "No individual ever has a CAREER in Hollywood -- except in retrospect." My dogged persistence finally ticked off a couple of executives in UP Pictures management who obviously hadn't been clued into that fundamental USC mantra. A labor relations exec who tried to present me to motion picture management asked me afterward," What did you DO to them?" My honest response was, "I don't know. The top guys met me, amicably agreed they'd "find a way to get me into some trouble," then nothing ever happened.

I finally became a creative executive's assistant and script analyst, and then a motion picture development director with a bungalow office and drive-on parking space. I took pitch meetings with writers, and top talent agents -- but only after the execs with whom I had expended all that earlier creative energy were fired and replaced. After that the dam broke. Within days I was attached to THE VERY senior creative executive OFFICE formerly occupied by the president who let me twist in the wind.

I could have gone into his former office (now my work location) and danced on his desktop, and probably proved somebody's utterly mistaken opinion of me. But of course I didn't. I had nothing against the guy, in fact, other than the mystery of the snail's pace.

A truly objective, talented lady was the generous Verna Fields -- film editor of JAWS and UP executive -- who, after she saw our Super8 feature film, asked my fellow producer and me if we'd like to attend the American Film Institute.... Our seemingly sensible answer? "We're already working at a major studio -- Why would we want to go back to film school?" We hoped to apprentice on the lot somewhere... Anywhere.

Movie directors, writers and production crews were a nicer breed. For instance, John Landis was very warm to us newly minted feature filmmakers, so much so that he invited us to join him for a 3-D screening of CREATURE FROM THE BLACK LAGOON. And John Milius, a fellow USC veteran, personally admitted me to an on-the-lot after-hours screening of his directorial debut CONAN THE BARBARIAN. I spent many long days off inside sound stages observing filming of THE THING, BLUES BROTHERS, CAT PEOPLE, etc. and learning from experienced folks about special effects, acting and camerawork.

Sam Adams of Adams, Ray, Rosenberg agency flat-out offered me a job as an agent, which I also declined. My good buddy Ed Neumeier of Robocop & Starship Troopers fame found me my first development director job, then hired me himself, to work with his writing team while they developed new scripts for several top directors including Oliver Stone and William Friedkin. A tv casting director at Universal named Donna Dockstader stopped me one day to ask me if I were an actor, and had pictures & resume... It dawned on me that a life-changing acting break rode on my answer, but I had to tell the truth, very much as I had to Sam Adams' agent opportunity: "No, sorry. I always wanted to work behind the camera." I realized afterward that if I had confirmed myself as a budding actor at that moment, and I was aware of a certain degree of proven natural ability, I might have taken rush pictures and a first-rate acting coach; I might have got a TV part and a new career. That casting director's words, after all, were what countless other acting hopefuls are always dying to hear but most never do.

I did learn a life lesson, which is this: The artistic side of the biz is tough enough without failing to prepare for any opportunities other than one narrow area of your passion. A creative person, I see new, should develop ALL creative talents, because your big break can ambush you in countless unexpected ways. Be prepared. If you want to be a cinematographer or director, prepare as an actor, or editor, or producer anyway. Enlarge the doorway for yourself to enter.

One last example of the principle: From the moment I broke out of the mailroom, I became more an executive than filmmaker at first, and I excelled at it, thanks to mentors with world class work ethics. Finally, a call to fill a temporary executive-associate assignment at Disney turned into a full-time position as assistant to the corporate VP, strategic planning, in Michael Eisner's new Dream Team. Those years were the piece de resistance, the apex of Hollywood business internships. In those years Disney's annual business grew from $2 billion to $25 billion and more. Disney stock rose from $35 a share to $70 -- and then split back to $35.

Moral: My years working at Disney's top tier began as a lowly offer of a few days on a temp job. A week later I found myself working high above 5th and Park Avenues in Disney's New York City office with my boss, plus Michael Eisner, Jeffrey Katzenberg and the entire Disney board of directors. Everybody should have those kinds of "irrelevant" surprises in their life.