A Career on the Line

After Joker, audiences knew Halle Berry's face. That recognition had helped her get through doors that had previously stayed closed.

It had not spared her the industry's narrow ideas about which actresses belonged in which roles. Being noticed was one advantage; persuading people to look beyond what they thought she represented was another problem entirely.

The visibility from Joker, along with the support Warner had promised, had helped her join The Flintstones. It was a supporting role, but she was part of the principal cast.

The live-action adaptation of the animated series that had begun in 1960 became another major commercial success, bringing in more than $130 million domestically and roughly $340 million worldwide. Two hits in succession had given her career a promising foundation. The Flintstones had also earned her a Saturn Award nomination for supporting actress.

What followed had not built on that momentum.

Instead of moving into leading roles in large productions, she had found herself in projects that did little to improve her position. Losing Isaiah disappointed at the box office. The television film Solomon & Sheba did not give her the theatrical breakthrough she needed either.

Her agent had a share of the responsibility. Choosing the next job was not simply a matter of finding an offer and accepting it. The wrong sequence of roles could squander the attention a successful film had created.

For months, little had come her way. Then Julianne brought her an audition for a Warner-backed thriller.

Miles Rourke, the executive handling its casting, had asked to see her. He had called Julianne himself. Before Halle arrived at the lot, everything had seemed unusually easy.

Inside the room, the opportunity had begun to look very different.

Rourke treated the audition as though she had already agreed to work on whatever terms he offered. Questions became obstacles. Requests for time became evidence that she was not serious about the job.

She finished the reading and tried to remain polite. Outside, Julianne urged her to accept.

"He wants you for this. We need to take the opportunity."

Halle had trusted her agent to negotiate on her behalf. Instead, Julianne seemed determined to make her stop asking questions. Every objection was met with another reminder of how long she had been waiting for work.

She left without giving an answer. Rourke followed her through the side door.

She told him she wanted to go. He kept talking, then caught her bag when she turned away. Julianne stood inside the entrance and watched. She could see that Halle wanted the conversation to end. She did nothing to help end it.

That, more than anything, made Halle feel alone.

Then she heard Evan's voice.

"What's going on, Halle?"

For a moment, the relief was so abrupt that the scene hardly seemed real. He belonged to a part of her career when doors had opened much more readily. Now he was standing a few feet away, asking a simple question.

Rourke swore at him.

Evan's expression hardened.

"Shut the fuck up."

He pointed at the man, then turned back to her.

"Do you want me to walk you out?"

Rourke stood motionless, taken aback by the command. Halle pulled her bag free and stepped over to Evan, taking his arm.

"Please. Yes. Thank you."

"All right. Let's go."

Evan gave the man one more look and turned away with Halle and Nina.

He had no desire to stand outside a soundstage arguing with someone he did not know. The balance of power had shifted so far in his favor over the past few years that he sometimes forgot how much effort other people had to expend simply to leave an unpleasant conversation.

He was not intervening out of any grand commitment to reform the business. He knew Halle, she had asked for help, and taking her away was easy. His willingness to act was selective, and he had no illusions about that.

He had seen enough pressure applied in the name of an opportunity to recognize the pattern. People who could offer work often behaved as though that entitled them to much more than a professional answer.

Behind them, Rourke recovered.

"Fuck you! Did I say we were finished?"

He followed them and pointed at Halle.

"Think about what you're doing. You want to throw this away? Who else is offering you anything? Nobody even remembers you!"

Inside the stage entrance, Julianne had recognized Evan immediately. At first she had hoped he would take Halle away and end the encounter without involving her.

Then Rourke began shouting after him.

"No, no. Jesus..."

She hurried across the pavement as fast as her heels allowed.

"Mr. Rosenberg, I'm sorry. I had no idea this would happen. I swear, I had nothing to do with this. I'm so sorry."

The words came out in a rush. Rourke stared at her, but she barely acknowledged him. All she could think about was separating herself from what Evan had just witnessed.

The audition no longer mattered. Neither did the executive who had arranged it. What mattered was whether Evan would decide that her conduct deserved his attention.

She knew how much influence he had on this lot. Whatever Rourke had thought he was protecting by shouting, he had put far more at risk.

"Rosenberg?"

At last, Rourke looked closely at the younger man.

"You're Evan Rosenberg?"

The anger drained out of his face. Evan almost laughed. The man had not recognized him at all. For a moment, he had wondered whether he was dealing with someone important enough to pick this particular fight knowingly.

He ignored Rourke and addressed Julianne.

"If Halle says she doesn't want to do something, don't pressure her into it. Understood?"

"Of course. Yes. Thank you, Mr. Rosenberg."

She was still trying to judge how much trouble she was in. He had not threatened her, which was something.

"Come with us. You can tell me about your charming colleague."

Evan patted Halle's arm and headed toward the cart Sergey was bringing around. He did not look at Rourke again.

The executive remained where they had left him until the cart disappeared between the buildings.

Then he turned and hurried back inside.

He needed the producer. Perhaps there was still a way to contain the damage. Evan's parting request to the agent made it clear that he was not simply going to forget the encounter.

Rourke knew the name. Everyone working here did. He had never expected the man behind it to be quite that young, or to appear in the middle of a dispute beside a soundstage.

He reached an office and opened the door without knocking.

Spencer Franklin looked up from his newspaper.

"Miles? You don't look well. Casting going that badly?"

"Spencer, I've made a serious mistake."

His voice had lost all the confidence it had carried outside.

"Whatever happens, I need your help with this."

"What happened?"

Franklin set down the paper as Rourke explained. By the time he reached the end, the producer was rubbing his forehead.

"You're supposed to negotiate a deal, not stop an actress from leaving. And then you went after Rosenberg? On this lot?"

Rourke offered no answer.

"That could end your career."

Franklin reached for the telephone.

"I'll call Bruce. You'd better hope Evan has something more important to do this afternoon."

He dialed Bruce Rosenblum's office. A secretary answered, then transferred him.

"Bruce, we've got a problem over here. Rourke lost his temper with Evan..."