Ghosts of the Backlot is an examination of a specific period in history. The middle of the twentieth century saw massive changes in the entertainment industry, leaving so many creatives struggling to keep up.

These are their stories. These are snippets of the reality faced by so many in Hollywood during this time of transition. This is a look at the humanity hiding just beneath the shimmering surface.

Kathleen dropped her clipboard. “Hey, boys, can we cut?”

The entire crew knew… that wasn’t a question. Kathleen was just being polite.

Dean Carmichael sat back from his usual spot behind the camera, his hair rumpled from sheer frustration. “Why not? She’s fucking useless to me right now.”

Kathleen flashed him a hasty smile. A coddling smile. She might be polite now, but she had these men just where she wanted them. “Darling, if you start pulling your hair out now, you won’t have any left.”

She didn’t break stride, her heels echoing in the massive soundstage.

Evie looked up from where she’d dropped in a heap. Her eyes were a basket case of all the emotions that she couldn’t vocalize…. And she was ready to burst. “I can’t do this.”

“Come on,” Kathleen said, reaching for Evie’s hand. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Evie’s hand trembled inside hers, the teenager was a bundle of terrified anxiety beneath the exhaustion. “I can’t go back there.”’

“You’ll feel better with some fresh air,” Kathleen said. She wrapped an arm around Evie’s shoulder, steering her towards the soundstage’s only quiet corner.

Who was she kidding. Someone was always watching.

This girl hadn’t had a moments privacy since she got her first period.

Evie’s eyes were wide.
Jittery.

They weren’t getting this take anytime soon.

“I’m so tired,” were the only words she could muster. 

Kathleen spoke carefully, “This isn’t still about—“

Evie’s voice broke,
“He won’t even look at me.”

An assistant materialized next to them, he held out a glass of water and the ever faithful pulls.

Like she said, someone was always watching.

“I don’t want those,” Evie said, her voice hitching an emotional octave.

“Why don’t you,” Kathleen said. 
“You’ll feel better…”