Ads like this are tempting. Mom and I once responded to an advertisement for a free informational "seminar" sponsored by a company that claimed to be in the business of providing film extras. Along with about 200 others, we went to a local hotel conference room to hear the company's pitch.

A "casting" process such as the one we experienced should immediately raise some suspicions. Everyone was asked to complete a questionnaire and to get in line for an evaluation. We were told that we could come forward individually or, if we had come with friends, in groups. Those "not" invited to the next screening level at a New Jersey office building included not only a matron whose hair could have inspired Dennis Rodman, but also an attractive young woman who had a professional headshot.

At the time, we missed the warning signs. Mom and I kept my appointment in New Jersey the next day. What we found was a reception room decorated with headshots and composites taped to the wall. Handout copies of an article told how a client almost had been hired for a film. While a stereo blasted, I tried to memorize commercial "sides" for a strawberry-scented shampoo.

When I was called to deliver my lines on camera, I stumbled over one sentence. Not to worry. Mom and I were sent into a room to meet with "an agent." He had an English accent and claimed to have moved to New Jersey to avoid New York's hustle and bustle. To my mother's credit, she doubted that someone who left Manhattan's deal-making center knew what he was doing. Although my appointment at the casting company's office was less than twenty-four hours after the hotel "seminar," the agent told me that I was too late to be hired as an extra in the films.mentioned only a day earlier. What he needed in order to represent me in the future was pictures. Could he schedule me for a sitting on Monday?

The price for a headshot was $500. A composite of four photos was $900. He needed an immediate, non-refundable check for half the amount in order to guarantee I would keep my appointment. He told me they had to pay the photographer, even when actors failed to honor their sitting times. They had just had a "Black Monday," he said, in his suave British accent, when three people had not kept their appointments. We did not have $450, or even $250, and we left. While we were waiting for the elevator, the agent appeared. He went to the water fountain and seemed to be listening to our conversation.

Was he curious to find out if we were thinking about reporting his operation to authorities? Apparently, some who signed up for photo sessions did just that. On a local television news program only a few months later, Mom and I saw the casting company's New Jersey office, completely empty. The photos taped to the wall had been easy to remove. The blaring stereo, screen-test camera, and agent, British accent and all, had vanished. The television reporter suggested consumers should not pay an agent for headshots and should check what information the Better Business Bureau has about show business recruiters.

This is also good advice for young actors who are asked to attend a school when they respond to an ad offering work. It often turns out that even after taking an endless array of makeup, hair, poise, and other courses, that first job always seems to be just one more class away. Schools, like every other firm the Better Business Bureau investigates, will have a Satisfactory or Unsatisfactory grade or a notation if for some reason no rating could be given.

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