L.A. Story -- Seven Northwesterners Pursue Their Dreams On The Streets Of Hollywood

So, they wanted to be in pictures.

Silver screen, advertising, television - you name it, these seven Northwesterners aspire to it.

Last month, they rented a van for a 10-day road trip to Los Angeles, coveting the fame, recognition, applause and money that stardom brings. Four would find a piece of it - a potential big break.

They were led by their agent, Ambokile' Kokayi, a nascent actor and model. At 6-foot-2, with the stature of a mythical goddess, she sure looks like the real thing.

If the entertainment industry were a sofa, Seattle would be the throw pillow. Films are shot here; television shows have been set here. But if you want to settle down on that sofa and claim it as your own, you've got to get your derriere out of here.

Kokayi knows personally how budding talent can wither in a Seattle agent's filing cabinet. She opened her year-old Ambokile' Model and Talent Agency intent to do what it takes to nurture that talent, by any means necessary. She believes strongly enough in the ambition of a dream to take it to the streets of L.A. Literally.

And so they did.

The Ambokile' seven pounded the pavement in front of modeling and casting agencies from Beverly Hills to Burbank. En route to a date with a talent agent, they strode the walk of stars at Hollywood and Vine - with no time to look down. They held an impromptu parade, high heels, achy feet and all, on Rodeo Drive's toniest stretch.

Man, did they draw looks - much more attention than on a too-laid-back-to-stare Seattle street.

In Hollywood, follow behind seven aspiring models and actors and watch what happens. Golly.

"I should follow you guys," a looky-loo in an elevator volunteered.

If looks could talk, he would have heard a chorus of, "No, baby, just remember our names: Ambokile' Kokayi, Patrice Fisher, Misty Forgey, Eugene Johnson, Amber Keen, Christine Kennedy, Ivan Payne."

When Kokayi signed the six to her Federal Way-based agency, she promised them a trip to the industry pinnacle: Los Angeles. Joining the agency costs $150-$300 (depending on experience), which includes a couple of photo shoots with a makeup artist and stylist. The agency also offers four weeks of Saturday morning classes, reviewing posing and runway modeling, nutrition, exercise, fashion.

The L.A. deal was this: They would split the costs of the road trip and four-to-a-room economy motel, and she'd get their well-lotioned feet in the door. Anyone who has tried knocking on the door of opportunity knows it can be a sticky one to budge. After that, it was up to them.

For a sense of the gamble the pursuit of L.A. fame can be, scroll through the US West Dex online Yellow Pages. In the Seattle area, there are just under 40 modeling and talent agency listings, including Ambokile'. Some of these agencies have a solid track record. Others pocket fees for acting and modeling classes that lead nowhere. Now, compound that by the more than 400 talent agencies alone in the L.A. listings.

Add to that the rejection factor: Elite Model Management in Beverly Hills, for example, turns away 80 percent of the three to 15 hopefuls the agency sees during open call Monday through Thursday afternoons. A risky equation, indeed.

Fame, the Ambokile' seven soon discovered, does not come easily or quickly. Access costs money. People tend not to remember your name. What looked like a career break can turn into a career kick in the teeth.

They also had many little magic encounters, and one big one (as in Magic Johnson). And some began to believe dreams can come true.

`Believe in yourself'

What it takes to step into an agent's office and sell your talent is part the savvy of a job interview, part the flirt of a first date and part the steely, heart-pounding, adrenaline-racing nerve of ambition. Tap that nerve, and you will find a way in.

"Believe in yourself" is Kokayi's daily affirmation. The phrase is printed on her business cards and lingers in her eyes as she repeats it to her "models and talent," as she calls them.

Who are they? They are not unlike the thousands of teens and young adults throughout the nation who crave being recognized for having looks worthy of a magazine cover or a voice of a caliber to record on a compact disc. After all, who hasn't lip-synced in front of the television or pretended to be somebody else in front of the mirror?

Kokayi and her assistant, Gaylen Ramolete, know these desires. They were these teens once. They also know the slim odds. They retreated after wrestling the beast that is the entertainment industry.

Kokayi is back and plans to lead the way. Ramolete echoes her desire to boost others where she did not go. They pray together and work together to bust the odds: "I don't want my models to grow older having had a dream to model and nobody believed in them," Kokayi said. "That is my mission, to give them the support they need."

And watch what happens.

Cenex Casting in Burbank, 11 a.m. They had planned to arrive by 10 a.m., but that was before umpteen outfit changes and hair combing, styling and restyling. As the van wove through L.A.'s web of freeways, a few of the fame- seekers popped bubble wrap - ta-ta-ta-tat - a remnant from the last-minute arrival of Patrice Fisher's photos.

For $20, a Social Security number and photo identification, anyone can go to Cenex Casting in Burbank on Monday, Wednesday and Friday mornings and apply to be an extra. After registering, would-be extras dial the hotline each afternoon, checking for possible roles.

Not that being an extra pays big bucks. Any of the seven who land a stand-around role as a film or television extra can expect $46 for eight hours. The rate jumps to $75 or more for a day filming a commercial and moves higher for partial nudity or hardship, such as filming while swimming (and keeping an eye out for sharks) in the ocean. With three speaking parts and $1,200, an extra can apply for a Screen Actors Guild (SAG) card and a higher pay rate, said Teresa Kadotani, a casting assistant.

An extra also gains access.

Kadotani supported herself for four years with small parts in films and commercials before taking the Cenex job. "Stay grounded, stay focused and know that you are going to make it," Kadotani said, cheering on the seven. "Remember: If you close your mind, you close your chances."

Gunfire with Gibson

Kadotani herself had a brush with fame - and Mel Gibson - 13 years ago. Cenex had cast Kadotani as a prostitute in "Lethal Weapon." The scene called for Gibson to knock her out of the way of a firing weapon. Kadotani and Gibson spent a few evenings huddled together in the rain doing take after take after take: "Mel Gibson, I swear, you can quote me, he is the nicest guy in show business. He is. He is a total sweetheart."

Just before the gunfire, Gibson's character said: "What's a nice-looking Irish girl like you doing on a street corner like this?" Kadotani will never forget the line, nor her scripted response: "Hahahaha."

At Cenex, the seven join 100 aspiring extras who fill the conference room and mill in the lobby and hallway. They disperse, seeking a separate somewhere to fill out their applications. As Kokayi glides through the packed ground floor, casting director Lisette St. Clair follows her. No sooner does she sit than St. Clair briskly solicits her. St. Clair is seeking tall women to cast as police officers on the CBS drama "JAG." The striking Kokayi fits. Does she have photos? This is not new for Kokayi. She has this effect on people. Last year, she appeared on the television shows "Babylon 5," "Beverly Hills 90210," "Men Behaving Badly," "Chicago Hope."

Remember the story of Lana Turner being discovered at a drugstore soda fountain? Kokayi has her own version. As she strolled Venice Beach two summers ago, a crew was filming an episode of USA Network's "Pacific Blue." The casting director caught sight of her and asked who she was. She was offered a part and began filming the next day. Discovered, sure, but she was also prepared to be: "I knew that a model always carries her book with her, or at least some laser photos.

"I had an agent in Seattle and I never did anything. I just sat in a file cabinet. That made me angry. Who has the right to put a title on somebody and limit them? What you believe can come true."

Commuting from Seattle between parts proved too hard on her husband and three children, so she put her fledgling career on hold. Instead, she started her own agency and vowed to return. Her namesake agency reflects her own spiritual reawakening. The Swahili name she adopted six years ago means this: Ambokile' (one God has redeemed) Kokayi (to summon the people).

On to Beverly Hills the next day and Elite Model Management. Kokayi takes in only her three tallest, Forgey, Keen and Kennedy, hoping to maximize their exposure.

Forgey, a spunky, 6-foot, 23-year-old Yakima resident with a look somewhere between actors Jenna Elfman and Gwyneth Paltrow, is as interested in breaking into acting as modeling. Forgey introduced Keen to Ambokile' after they had met at a modeling cattle call. (Agents literally marched around a room, talked to a few people and then left, said Forgey, annoyed she had paid $500 to attend.)

For Keen and Kennedy, this is the moment they've been waiting for. At 15, Keen was born to model. Her fine bone structure, olive tone and hazel eyes emanate a soundless passion that belies both her years and experience. The camera loves her.

Kennedy, at 21 a recent Pacific Lutheran University graduate, was looking for something to do when Kokayi "discovered" her outside the Fred Meyer near her Federal Way home. Kennedy's doelike brown eyes convey the innocence of Elizabeth Taylor in "National Velvet."

As the foursome waited for Deborah Lin of Elite's New Faces Division to return from lunch, Kokayi scanned the photos lining the entry. Silently, she gestured for each of her model's books, rearranging the order of photos to reflect the styling on the walls. One by one, Lin took each of them into a back office. She assured them of their beauty, but told Forgey and Kennedy their looks weren't "edgy" enough for the agency.

Keen's looks were. "She told me I was beautiful and I had beautiful eyes and high cheekbones," the Yelm teenager recalled, her lips set in a humble Mona Lisa smile of awe: Maybe this will be the break.

The encounter demonstrated the resilience of hope - promptly dashed at Wilhelmina Models Inc. the day before. As soon as the seven filed into the Beverly Hills office suite, an assistant stacked their photo books, carried the pile away and soon returned, summarily dismissing them with: "I'd like to thank you guys for coming in, but I do not think you guys are right for our agency for varying reasons for each of the girls." He pointed to the seated Johnson and asked skeptically, "Are you really 6 feet?" It was odd that he singled out 16-year-old Johnson for derision, whose baby-faced sophistication holds a range of looks.

"Just remember you are beautiful," Kokayi whispered fiercely as they filed out.

`We'll make it, we'll make it'

So much for looks that turned heads on the street. Kokayi has an aphorism for this situation as well: "Every no takes you closer to a yes."

The van ride from Wilhelmina was subdued. They talked no longer about themselves or their dreams. The gatekeepers to the beauty and talent industry can be heartless.

"We'll make it, we'll make it," Kokayi repeated as they stopped to eat at Roscoe's House of Chicken and Waffles. There are precious few things that a big plate of mixed greens, chicken thighs, red beans and rice and a square of cornbread cannot make better. It felt like a taste of home.

Roscoe's turned out to be a haven for them - a magic one at that. As they sat and ate on their last day in L.A., somebody said Magic Johnson was there. Kokayi looked up. "I said to myself, `Go over there and talk to him.' I walked over to his table. I was like, `Magic, hey.' It was like I knew him. It was a really good feeling because he was so down-to-earth. I said, `I am Ambokile'. I have a modeling agency in Seattle and I need your help.' He was very, very, very nice."

He introduced her to Kawanna Myers, the vice president of his Magic Johnson Foundation Inc., and the two women have kept in touch. With Johnson and the other contacts she made during the trip, Kokayi is closing the degrees that separate her circle of success.

"It is very difficult for minorities to break into this industry," Kokayi said. "It is harder to be taken seriously. You have to go the extra mile to prove yourself. I'm reaching out to minority celebrities who understand what it is like to go through it."

Watch what happens.

The historic corner of Hollywood and Vine is visible from the seventh-floor office suite of To The Top Entertainment. Across the street, ornate windows frame the former rooftop penthouse of Howard Hughes. To The Top's offices housed Charlie Chaplin and the songwriters for the sitcom "Friends" - separated by a few decades, of course. The famous white "Hollywood" sign is not visible, but a huge neon Scientology one tops the building kitty-corner.

For a fee, To The Top offers acting classes and access to directors and producers through actor showcases. For the Ambokile' seven, it also offered a place to start.

The cramped, crowded offices and aging grandeur of the building's staircase have an odd New York feel, which suits To The Top's Jay Hastings, an actor with East Coast roots, just fine. He admits to starting the business four years ago to build contacts for his own career. It worked. Already wielding an extensive resume, he will soon begin filming as the lead in an independent gangster film, "Oasis Rip Dance."

Ebullient about his chosen profession, Hastings soon worked up enthusiasm in the seven. All anted up $25 apiece for the evening's showcase. Hastings mentioned an agent who would soon be casting a Spice Girls television show. Exuberance lights up Fisher's face as she says, "I can do that. I can even do the English accent. Just give me the wig."

And she can. Fisher resembles a mix of Jennifer Lopez and Eartha Kitt, and her background includes an English mother, an African-American father and a husband who plays basketball in Spain. She lives in Tukwila , but desires to act and sing. Now she's getting a crash course in realizing it.

"Ninety-five percent of this business is networking," Hastings says. "You can be the best in the business, but if you are up in Seattle you are not going to get hired. The old `being nice and becoming friends with people' is the way. What you find out is this town is a very small town."

Hastings' conversations fill with sentences that begin with someone who knows someone or works with someone who is, or has launched, a big name. This appears to be the essence of, or maybe even the equation for, stardom: Access plus contacts plus ambition equals success.

To The Top is a hub of these peripheral connections. One of these is Matthew Earl Jones, the younger half-brother of actor James Earl Jones. Jones the younger is skilled at parlaying talent into contacts, and contacts into jobs, for his Blacktop Films production company, one floor down from To The Top.

In the anteroom to his office, Jones rattled off tips on how to gain access to L.A. commercial work for Kokayi. Every two or three minutes he'd stop and answer the phone: "No one calls the producer with good news," Jones said ruefully between calls. "It's `I need, I forgot, I broke.' "

And, if you get Jones going, he will speak with hushed pride about the accomplishments of his 95-year-old father, Earl Jones (hence the middle name). His father's film credits include 1962's "One Potato, Two Potato," with Spencer Tracy. His career stalled after the McCarthy hearings, tarnished because of his friendship with red-scare targets such as renowned singer/actor Paul Robeson.

"Our father was one of the first black actors to cross the color line," Jones said. "Dad was at the level where Denzel Washington is now. He was a very famous actor."

As he turned to leave, Jones said to the Ambokile' seven: "Have a great showcase. Knock 'em dead."

Reading at the showcase

That evening the seven joined a dozen or so other aspiring actors in To The Top's small stage area to read a scene in front of Gayle Dickie, a producer with an impressive list of ongoing and upcoming projects. It was her second showcase visit. She has yet to hire anyone.

"I like coming here and giving people a shot; you never know," Dickie said. "I'm kind of funny about fate, purpose, kismet."

A sizzling pair of actors who had memorized their script led the scenes. They were discussing the wife's affair with another woman. As sarcasm smoldered into rage, you really feared for the wife when the husband ran after her. Electric.

"Who wants to go after that?" an actor/audience member complained.

Forgey and Kennedy did. Ah, the innocence of inexperience. They did a spirited, engaging reading, rewarded with ample applause. Then they raced heads-down for their chairs.

The To The Top showcase lifted the spirits of the Ambokile' seven. And some days, a spirit is the fan that keeps a dream alive. On the chatty, dreamy van ride back, Forgey said: "You know, being there made me happy. I'm very happy."

Both Fisher and Payne hope to make it as actors and singers. Payne has natural comedic timing. His expressive and distinct face lingers in the mind's eye. Although only 20, Payne already is soured on talent agents. He has been performing since the age of 8. His credits list theater in his hometown of Tacoma, commercials (including a national Target ad), a teen host spot for KING-TV's "Watch This," and his gospel and R&B tape. Kokayi kept her eyes open for someone who knows someone to listen to it. Payne's belief in Kokayi equals hers in him.

"You know she is in your corner," Payne said. "Most agents that I have been with in the past have been too busy to get to know you on a personal basis."

Fisher also has a sense of the give, take and burn of the entertainment industry. One afternoon, as pricey cars tooled by on Rodeo Drive, Fisher spoke with an impromptu eloquence about her chances:

"Sometimes they take your money and don't give you anything in return. Sometimes they take your money and get you a job. If you don't know what you are doing, they take your money and tell you what you want to hear.

"So you start over. Ambokile' is opening doors. She is opening door after door after door. I want to come back to L.A. and get my career started."

Epilogue

As these lives unfold, here is a sketch of scenes to come.

Ambokile' Modeling and Talent now has a Los Angeles office at To The Top. (Call 253-815-1371 or toll-free 877-5BELIEVE for information.) Jay Hastings plans to stage showcases in the Seattle area.

L.A. Models requested photo composite cards for Amber Keen and Christine Kennedy. Elite Model Management also expressed interest in Keen.

Ivan Payne's tape is being reviewed by the Hollywood independent label Loudhouse Music & Entertainment.

Eugene Johnson is working out and looking into acting classes.

Patrice Fisher is having professional photos taken and plans to return to L.A. to break into show biz.

Misty Forgey was recently married in Yakima and still dreams of a modeling or acting career.