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The television showCall My Agent!presents precisely this cutthroat perspective.
(Actress Camille Cottin, who plays her, is reason enough to watch the show.)
Andrea likens agents toputti,or cherubic cupids in Italian.
The ASK office, while boasting a tony address adjacent to the Louvre, is ultimately rather unremarkable.
Even Paris, as a metropolitan setting, is mostly scrubbed of glamor.
The city is almost incidental; the foreground is, always, opportunism.
Even in the day-to-day context, an absurdist streak runs through everything.
(Of course, it works.)
Professional rivalry, light blackmail, and a lot of emotional fluffing are the agents toolkit for leverage.
Every episode features an actor or actress playing him or herself.
(Although: look out for Sigourney Weaver in season four, spry and charismatic as they come.)
For viewers unfamiliar with the featured stars, the typologies are still recognizable ones.
Basically, every entertainer is a headache.
Watching and being watched is a power game, and reputations are forged or undone accordingly.
She is not a courtesan or a luxury hen.
Crazy overrides sexy!)
alternative to the story instead.
(Is this what world peace looks like?)
And yet, the confluence of creativity and obsession and delusion provides the foundation of our cultural imagination.
