It was hell, darling, sheer hell
After a grubby dispute between Equity and the advertising industry, Britain's finest thespians are at last free to sell washing powder. Nicole Veash gives a tantrum-by-tantrum account of the voice-over war
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THERE'S BEEN war among the thespians of late - frayed tempers, backbiting, even some out-and-out name-calling. But just over a week ago there was resolution, a cathartic end to a long and painful struggle. Yes, the tiff between the advertising industry and the actors' union, Equity, is over. Well, almost. This long-running dispute may have passed you by, but for thousands of jobbing actors it was serious stuff.
1958: the beginning
At the dawn of commercial television an agreement was signed between Equity and the advertising industry. These were "innocent" days, as one Equity spokesman described them, when actors were paid in blocks of ten ads, or "spots" as they were then quaintly known. Things continued happily for many a long year, with actors getting a fee for the initial studio session and each subsequent repeat. But eventually this cosy relationship came crashing down.
1991
The satellite and cable explosion changed the game - suddenly, thousands of extra ads were being made. Instead of basing fees on the "spot" system, Equity, the Institute of Practitioners in Advertising (the agencies) and interested parties, such as the production companies, thrashed out an agreement which, in Equity's words, "revolutionised" the system. Instead of being paid in blocks of ads, actors were paid in accordance with the ratings: if your lips happened to brush seductively against a Cadbury's Flake during a Coronation Street ad break, you could expectbig bucks. Everyone was happy, until...
November 1996
The 1991 agreement was about to expire. Ad agencies, miffed that clients were, in their eyes, paying way over the top for actors' services, wanted to shave off cash from both the top and minimum end of the fee structure, which started at just pounds 70 per voiceover session.
With some leading thesps commanding tens of thousands of pounds for a campaign, including repeat fees, agencies said that their patience and, bizarrely, their budgets, were wearing thin. They wanted to curb the earnings of such voice-over giants as `King' Enn Reitel, the vocal chameleon who made his name voicing politicians on Spitting Image, or Miriam Margoyles, the matronly actress famous for advertising chocolate in honeyed tones, by trying to ensure that non-visual artists were paid less than visual artists. Equity refused to agree to the IPA's terms, ordering their members either "only do adverts to finance serious projects" or, at the other end of the spectrum, to make ends meet.
February 1997
Then it got silly. According to the ever-helpful but nameless Equity spokesman, the ad industry "dug their heels in and wouldn't budge". But the nice chap from IPA said simply, "Well, they walked out and refused to talk." And so, inevitably...
May 1997
With impeccable timing, Equity called a strike - the day that Tony Blair, luvvie patron, took office. However, they allowed members to continue working if they were offered terms under the 1991 agreement.
August 1997
Things muddled along unhappily for a while until both sides met for informal talks to try to break the stalemate. Once again, Equity asked the advertisers to relax their terms. They refused.
"We had a mass meeting," says the valiant Equity knight, "and we decided not to tolerate their ridiculous suggestions. We had no choice but to take a stronger line of action."
September 1997
And thus it was decreed: no actor, no matter how matter how rested or broke, should take ad work. "Some people endured considerable hardship," says the actors' representative. Wild tales began circulating in the press like that of five unknowns from Glasgow who turned down a three year contract with McEwans for pounds 50,000 each or Scottish thesp, Dennis Lawson's tale of an unemployed actor with two small children who turned down a pounds 25,000 contract rather than break the strike.
November 1997
In what must rank as one of the calmest, head-held-high strikes on record, the big names took their stand. Helen Mirren, for example, calmly turned down a Virgin Atlantic contract, said to be worth anywhere between pounds 30,000 and pounds 100,000, for the sake of solidarity. Voice-over giants like Brian Cox and Bill Paterson stood four-square. Chris Evans, not even an Equity member, refused to do an ad for nappies.
Those "voice professionals" as they are called in the trade, claim they noticed a perceptible decline in quality of ads. Stories leaked out about desperate admen hiring amateurs for their "fresh style". Paul Cardwell, the man behind the Creature Comfort electricity ads, got a tax inspector from Bristol to do the tortoise voice. They recorded 132 hours of tape to get just 40 seconds of quality ad time.
Humorous but hungry Equity strikers got extra laughs out of unsubstantiated rumours about admen taking leading voiceover roles themselves. Serious, albeit partisan, ad-watchers muttered about the lack of quality in the current crop of campaigns, something denied by the IPA to this day. "We managed more than adequately without them," my man tartly said.
December 1997
The pitched battle intensified. The run-up to Christmas is traditionally a lucrative time in the ad world. But the actors kept their resolve, with little indication of weakening at this tempting time.
Until, that is, actor/writer Steven Berkoff got hot under the collar and broke ranks, agreeing to do a series of five voiceovers for McDonald's. Leading Equity lights Sir Derek Jacobi, Robert Powell, Prunella Scales and Tim Piggott-Smith saw red. "It's just as well he's practised a one- man show because that may well be all he's left with," hissed Piggott- Smith.
In his defence, Berkoff said: "I suppose when you are a successful wage earner, it is easy to breathe your high moral disdain."
"Berkoff had a destabilising effect on morale," says my Equity person. "He caused real outrage but he also paved the way for a handful of voiceover agencies to break the strike."
Berkoff, though, quivered with righteous indignation. "It is such an iniquitous act that I have no words for it," he said when Equity said they were "appalled" at his actions. "To publicly humiliate me by putting me in the stocks so that a bunch of second-rate actors can hurl their moral squibs at me is beyond redemption.
"If, by chance, I had made some mistake or error of judgment, then there is a machinery within Equity to chastise or castigate or warn me to desist. If you have erred on the wrong side, then they should take you to task, but they should not spill the beans and publicly demean you as if you are some kind of moral reprobate."
Stephen Berkoff remains a member of Equity.
April 1998
When TV's highest-paid Scouser, Cilla Black, was caught up in the storm it became evident that things weren't going wholly to plan. The nation's matchmaker unwittingly, so her agents claimed, became a blackleg after she agreed to do voiceovers for Safeway. Ms Black's representatives said she knew nothing of the strike, despite it being in full swing for seven months.
Cilla was not the only one to fall out of step. Enn Reitel, the voice- over king, announced he was resigning from Equity, saying, "The Spice Girls don't have a union. The Beatles didn't have a union - actors don't need one." The strike was "misguided and pointless", he said, while Equity's "hypocritical policies" made him sick. "When you join Equity you are joining an exclusive club full of fear and bitchiness," he said. "There is no element of free thought."
June 1998
Just under a fortnight ago, though, the two sides started talking again, both, predictably, claiming victory. "We are advising our members to work under the terms and conditions of the 1991 agreement," says the Equity spokesman. "We have got to start talking again and as long as these minimum requirements are in force, we think a significant point has been made."
So if the status quo that existed before the strike has been legitimised, surely nothing has been won? The IPA man tries to clarify things. "Things ain't over yet, but there is scope to move forward. We will be having talks about talks and we hope things will be less fraught in the future."
And finally, back to Equity. "All our members were behind us," gushes the spokesman. And how many is that? "Well, if you include all our dead ones, who support us in spirit, that's 200,000."
Which goes to proves one thing: for actors, life is one big drama.
Epilogue
All that solidarity was quick to fade, and it was reported at the weekend that Tony Booth, Cherie Blair's father, was leading an attempted left- wing coup against Equity's moderate ruling group, which includes Sirs David Hare and Derek Jacobi, Timothy West, Juliet Stevenson, Dawn French and Julie Walters, criticising them for their "inept handling" of the dispute. In next month's elections, the new president is expected to be the soft-left reformist, Tony Robinson. No doubt Baldrick has a cunning plan to keep the union together.
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