went away then, suddenly, they
said, ‘Can you fly to LA tomor-
row?’ I did. We did the scenes, but
the big movie star wouldn’t make eye
contact. I’d flown 3,000 miles. We’re
doing a scene and are meant to be mar-
ried, but she’s not looking at me. So
I pulled a grenade and lay on top of it.
I thought, ‘F*** it.’ I said, ‘Look at me!’
I thought, ‘5, 4, 3, 2, 1... Goodbye!’ ”
And that was the end of that.
Will you say who the actress was?
“No!” OK, tell me that Pirates story.
“I suppose.” He pauses. “I’m not
sure I can. I’ll come back to that.”
This Life was a phenomenon.
The first vivid look at graduates in
a city, with the hopes, fears, flats, sex
and drugs that came with it. For peo-
ple of a certain age — 40 to, say, 65 —
the names of lawyers and lovers still
trip off the tongue: Miles, Anna, Egg,
Milly and Warren. It was bacchanalian
barristering, and when the show
punched its way to an end after two
series in 1997, Davenport’s father told
him he would never be in anything
that generated that response again.
What did Davenport, just 24 at the
time, think of that? “A bit of me was
like, ‘Don’t rain on my parade.’ But he
was right. Still, This Life was before
the internet — which is important.
There is affinity between journalists
and lawyers and one of the reasons
it had momentum was because
journalists thought it was about
them. After series two there were pieces
in broadsheets for weeks about if there
would be a third series. Being pre-inter-
net is critical, because there would have
been opportunities to take potshots
online. By the time we did the anniver-
sary [in 2006] the internet existed and
everyone said, ‘I don’t like it.’ ”
Will there be more? “No. They
couldn’t afford Andrew at this point.”
Lincoln, who played Egg, has had the
busiest career post-This Life, with the
zombie juggernaut Walking Dead. He
should be a cameo in Ten Percent. “I
know.” I sense this has been mooted.
Davenport goes quiet. “Maybe one day.”
He took his agent for lunch when he
got the part in Ten Percent and asked
about lying. His agent said you cannot
lie, but that “information management”
is different. “Being an agent is like
being in a caring profession,” he says.
On the subject of information man-
agement, what is that Pirates story?
“OK,” Davenport says, eyes glowing. He
is ready. A man who removed himself
from the spotlight and so is more
comfy with tittle-tattle than many of his
peers. “When the first Pirates came
out, Johnny, Keira, Orlando and me did
a four-day junket,” he starts. He means
Depp, Knightley, Bloom. “Nobody was
interested in talking to me, but all had
to dutifully troop into my little suite.
“And these poor entertainment jour-
nalists think they’re like Woodward and
Bernstein, but I’ve had their question
250 times. They go, ‘Have you been on
the ride?’ I go, ‘I haven’t — I’ll get a
chance at the premiere and I’m excited.’
But by day four it’s the Uruguayan press
and they’re lower on the food chain. I
was punch-drunk and this poor woman
asked if I’d been on the ride and I went,
‘No, I haven’t. How good can it be?’ ”
He gasps. He still remembers the
footsteps thundering down the corri-
dor, as a troupe of Disney PRs raced in
to stop the interview. Davenport had
no idea it was managed to such a
degree. “Exhausted sarcasm does not
play well,” he ponders. “And part of the
reason they are such a successful com-
pany is they have great message disci-
pline.” He laughs and, again, mentions
not biting hands that feed him, but
does not seem to care really.
On a loose-lipped roll, I ask about
Bond. Surely an actor of his Britishness
has been linked? “There was a teeny-
weeny window where, pre-Daniel
Craig, people said they’d seen my name
on a list,” he says, laughing. “But I saw
Casino Royale, with its parkour, and
thought, ‘OK.’ So, apparently, I was
linked. But the idea, given what Daniel
made of the role, is laughable.”
I also read he was going to be in
Titanic, but was eventually considered
too young? “I’ve read that too,” he scoffs.
“And it’s absolute bollocks.” cTen Percent is on Amazon from ThursdayI was in a staff meeting
around the time Call My
Agent! was becoming a hit
when a colleague confessed
they couldn’t bear to watch.
“It makes me too anxious.”
But what is our life really
like? Well, think of a problem
and you can bet I’ve been
asked it.
Being an agent involves
managing expectations.
“Do you think I have the
slightest chance at Bond?”
a veteran director without a
feature film asked. No. The
old agent adage comes in
handy: “You never know.. .”
Then there’s marriages.
Once I was fired just to
throw a client’s wife off the
scent because he was
actually having an affair with
a make-up artist. It didn’t
work out — he went to a
male agent, got divorced
and rarely worked again. I
still wonder if it was worth it.
Whatever happens,
though, however much we
get the blame when it all
goes wrong, we are always
on the end of the phone. A
piercingly self-obsessed
client called me for a chat
while I had norovirus. Weak
as a kitten, I listened to his
concerns from the
bathroom floor, warning
him that I might be
indisposed. “Don’t worry,”
he replied, “I’ll hold.” He did.
When it comes to awards
ceremonies, give a passing
thought for the table plan.
No matter who you
represent, us agents are
inevitably exiled to
somewhere by the loos.
It reminds us of ourstatus. I once turned up to
a post-Oscar dinner for my
nominated client only to
discover I had been
forgotten about altogether.
There was, as someone
regretfully announced, “no
place for me”. Did I burst
into tears and go home?
Never. Without fuss I made
my own little place and
didn’t eat.
It’s a strange place to sit
— present for years at the
very heart of a person’s life
but still not family. A dear
client died some years ago.
When the cancer returned
for the final time he told
only his family and me. In an
unspoken agreement I
would still send him scripts
with the note “The dates
might not work” and he’d
send me back his thoughts,
adding, “You’re right. Now’s
not the right time.” I like to
think it made him feel a little
more normal. I still miss him.
We know that it’s
showbusiness. We’re not
saving lives. Still, you may
roll your eyes, but for us a
thank you goes a long way
— especially during awards
season. We’ll be sitting in
the gods, out for our fifth
night that week. And we’ll
be back at work the next
morning — albeit with a lot
of coffee and some good
stories — answering yet
more questions. “Can you
get me out of this series I
have committed to for five
years, and if not why not?
Why did they get that
award-winning job and
not me? Oh, do you know
any good cat sitters?” cCONFESSIONS OF A REAL AGENT
Change of agent Jack Davenport
stars in Ten Percent, top, a UK
remake of the French sitcom
Call My Agent!, above. Both
shows feature office dogsWhat’s life really like as the person
celebrities have on speed dial to answertheir every need? By Anonymous
24 April 2022 5