If you’re browsing through this book in a bookshop, you already know that you’d like to work in television, but maybe you’re not sure what you’d do. This is something you need to address right away – it’s important to know which area you want to aim for, before you start applying for jobs (you can always change tack later on). There are lots of good ways to get into TV. If you’re artistic; consider jobs like graphic or set design, or makeup and costume. If you’re fit, with a good eye for detail you could go for a job in props, or think about training to be an electrician, or a grip. If you’re good with your hands, there are craft jobs like painting or carpentry (becoming a joiner may not be the most obvious TV career choice, but somebody needs to build the sets!).

These are all good ways in; they all need specialist skills though, and most of them require a specialist education or training. We’ll look at the kind of qualifications you need to do them later in this chapter. But the bulk of this book will concentrate on how to get the most popular television jobs: researcher, camera operator, sound recordist, editor, dubbing mixer, floor/unit manager, PA ... the jobs that media graduates tend to go for.

Just for fun, here’s a short personality quiz to help you decide which TV job would suit you best and make you happiest. By the way, if you are browsing through this book, you might like to go and buy it now. This is not a library. Unless you’re browsing through it in a library, in which case it is.

A TV PERSONALITY QUIZ

So, which one of these personality types sounds most like you:

• 1.You are naturally and irrepressibly nosy – it’s your idea of fun to phone up complete strangers and ask them outrageous questions. Although you are fearless and spunky, you’re also caring and sympathetic. You do like to be in control of situations.
• 2.You can do three very difficult things at the same time, without getting stressed, or losing your concentration, or swearing at anyone. You have the patience of a saint, the strength of an ox, and the reactions of a wild-west gunslinger.
• 3.You have a passion for new technology that some people might describe as unhealthy. You are quietly confident and never seek approval. You are happy to fit in with other people, and go along with what everyone else is doing.
• 4.You love to sit alone in a darkened room, fiddling with your equipment. It’s your mission in life to fix the terrible mistakes caused by people less talented than you. You have an unusual personality: thick-skinned, yet also sensitive to other people’s moods.
• 5.You have the voice of God, and a calm, collected confidence that is the envy of all your friends. People turn to you in a crisis. You never lose your cool, and never say ‘I told you so’.
• 6.You have nerves of steel, a head for figures, and a heart of gold – which is sometimes disguised by your tendency to be a bit of a bossy-boots.
• 7.You long to travel, save the rainforests, and meet fabulously glamorous people.

Answers

If you picked 1, you’re a natural television researcher. This may surprise you – surely researchers are studious, bookish types who seek out information and impart knowledge? Yes and no. Finding things out is an important part of being a researcher, but you’ll spend more time on the phone than in the library. One of the most important parts of being a researcher is persuading people to do things – whether it’s giving you information, or allowing you to film them. Of course you’ll also be expected to come up with brilliant ideas. And you’ll learn how to turn your ideas into scripts. Eventually you’ll be able to capture magic on tape when you become a director. But your core job will be phoning people up, being charming to them, and getting them to do things for you. (If the very idea of cold-calling strangers terrifies the life out of you, see Chapter 6 for tips on how to schmooze.) All good researchers are deep-down nosy, and eternally curious: if you’re the sort of person who is often to be found exclaiming ‘How interesting!’, ‘How does that work?’, ‘Why should that be?’, ‘Why does that happen?’, then you will love being a researcher. If you’re not that bothered about finding things out, you’ll hate it. And the control bit? One day you will probably become a producer or director, so you’ll have to tell all these other people what to do. Shrinking violets need not apply.

Number 2 is a job description for a camera operator. It’s a fulfilling and creative job, but you will need huge reserves of diplomacy and understanding to get the most out of this career choice. Because here’s the thing – directors rarely have time to say ‘please’ and ‘thank-you’. They will bark instructions at you, expecting you to leap into action at their command, even though you’ve been hanging around for ages while they made up their mind what to shoot. Then once things get moving, you must follow their every whim exactly and to the letter – except when they’ve made a mistake, in which case you must anticipate what they really wanted to do, get the shot they missed, and save their bacon. When this happens, you must never mention it, because the director is always right.

Seriously, you need very special skills to be a professional camera operator. This may surprise you; nowadays almost everyone can use a video camera, and most of us know how to shoot stuff – you just point the camera in the right direction, and try not to cut people’s heads off. What marks out a professional camera operator is the ability to frame a shot quickly and elegantly, while scores of highly-paid people stand around waiting for him to get it right. And while he’s framing the shot, he’s probably zooming in with his right hand, pulling focus with his left hand, and rotating his whole body with absolute controlled precision to create a perfect pan. It’s ballet and weightlifting combined.

If you picked 3, then I’m afraid you’re a sound recordist at heart. For it’s a universal truth that sound recordists are nerds. Perhaps it’s something to do with being shut off from the world all day, headphones clamped to their skull, twiddling knobs and studying level meters. Certainly, the attention to detail required to be a good sound recordist demands a certain, well, nerdiness, and I mean that in the best possible way. Many of them are extremely talented nerds. Some are well-dressed, attractive nerds. A few are even genius nerds, whose work can turn a good programme into a great one. But they’re all nerds. And it’s a good thing too – every crew needs a nerd. They’re great at fixing equipment, they always have the latest, most high-tech mobile phone, and they know a great deal about obscure subjects, which can sometimes come in handy. And when the shoot’s over, they always know the best place to eat.

Sound recordists need to be secure in their own abilities; approval junkies need not apply. Because here’s something you never, ever hear a director saying: ‘Thank you for the wonderful sound you recorded today.’ Just doesn’t happen. Sadly, people only notice sound when it goes wrong. And here’s another strange thing about sound recordists – on location, they are attached to the camera by a long curly wire. Think about this for a minute, and imagine you’re a sound recordist. You have to go wherever the camera goes. If the camera operator is covering a difficult piece of action, you have to anticipate what’s going to happen next, and position yourself so that you and your equipment are always out of shot. One wrong move from you and the whole sequence is ruined. Sound recording is a physically and mentally challenging job. Recently I met a media student who was planning to apply for a job in sound because it was ‘an easy option’. Well, here’s the scoop on that score: in TV, there are no easy options.

If number 4 rings your bell, you could have a happy life in post-production. Editors and dubbing mixers join the production late in the day, when everything has already been shot, and it’s too late to get that crucial wide-shot, or record that all-important wildtrack. Editing, like carpentry, is a deeply satisfying job because you get to make something tangible, something that you can see developing bit by bit. You also have the satisfaction of knowing that you could have directed the shoot much better, without all the hard work and hassle of actually having to do it. And believe it, a good editor can make a second-rate director look great. The first time I directed a sequence, I made so many mistakes I should have been locked out of the building. But instead, along came a brilliant editor to the rescue. He tactfully suggested a different way to cut my rushes, and then set about putting together a rather good piece of television – so good, in fact, that sane people complimented me on my work.

Dubbing is a fantastic process too; the last step in the production line that is a television programme. Dubbing mixers are perfectionists, they have an almost fanatical attention to detail, and they speak in a funny techno-babble – in some ways they’re super-nerds (well, they’re sound people, and they don’t get out much!). They take all the various bits of sound on a programme – commentary, atmosphere, music, sound effects and dialogue – and mix them so that everything is at the correct levels and in the right place. This bald description doesn’t even come close to describing just how clever dubbing really is. It’s a subtle art, and if it’s done well, the programme will be involving and absorbing and full of atmosphere. If it’s done badly, the programme will feel leaden and somehow alienating.

If you picked 5 then you really are a very special person, for you have the makings of a great floor manager. Imagine the scene: you are standing on a busy studio floor, surrounded by cameras, runners, researchers, makeup people. In front of you, resplendent in the set, is a very famous presenter, and she is throwing a tantrum, a real ten-carat-gold wobbly. Up in the gallery above you, the director is tense – you are about to go live on air to the network. Through your headphones you can clearly hear the commotion in the gallery – at least three people are talking at once. The PA is counting down ‘45 seconds to on-air ...’ With half your brain, you listen carefully to the voices in your ear, and with the other half you calmly but firmly take the situation in hand. In the space of 40 seconds, you persuade the star to get on with her job, then you pick up the count-down to on-air, counting down out loud so that everyone on the floor can hear, while at the same time gently relocating a member of the audience who has accidentally wandered into the wide shot. Finally, you slip into position to cue the band for the opening musical number. You go on air, and everything is perfect. You have saved the day, and everyone loves you. Could you do all that? You could? Then floor managing needs you, no doubt about it. Of course, floor managing is about much more than just soothing starry tempers. The true job description is that you’re the voice of the director in the studio. You must listen to what the director wants, then manage the floor so that everyone on the studio floor is exactly where the director wants them to be, and preferably before the director wants them to be there – thinking ahead is an important floor managing skill.

On location, the floor manager is called a unit manager, or first assistant director. The job is much the same – to be in complete control of the shoot, so that all the director has to think about is directing – but the problems you may have to troubleshoot are incomparably greater. Imagine dealing with 600 extras, in a freak sleet storm in May, when your star has gone missing and you can’t get in touch with his driver. Like I said, this is a job for a very special person ...

If number 6 sounds like you, then what are you doing sitting there – get yourself a secretarial job in TV and then train to become a PA (production assistant). PAs used to be an indispensable part of every production, but nowadays, low budget programmes have dispensed with them, and the PA’s work is split between the production secretary (or production coordinator), and the researcher. Only live shows, dramas and high budget programmes use PAs now, which is a shame because having a PA on board makes everyone feel safe. They are highly competent people whose work spans the whole production. Before shooting starts, they prepare scripts and set up the filming. During the shoot they log all the shots and type up a shot list for the editor. They’re also in charge of continuity and timings. And when the shooting’s done, they produce a complicated form which lists every artist who took part in the programme, plus every piece of music or archive film used. On a live programme, PAs do incredibly complicated sums in their head, so that the programme finishes on time, and doesn’t fall off air in an ungainly fashion. Everyone knows where they are when there’s a PA around.

And number 7? Sorry, but you’re in the wrong book – you need the next manual in the series: How To Win Beauty Contests.

So now you know the terrible truth about TV types, it’s worth considering where these jobs lead, and where you see your career heading.

CAREER PROSPECTS

First, a thought to cheer you up. Once you get into television, you can do anything and go anywhere – assuming that you have the necessary talent, stamina and enthusiasm for the job (you do have, don’t you?). This is not the civil service, and there are no set career progression rules. Having said that, here’s what normally happens.

RESEARCH

Researchers tend to become senior researchers, then associate or assistant producers. Some researchers like the job so much, they keep doing it forever. These people are in great demand, because some of the skills needed to be a good researcher are the kind of skills that improve with age. But eventually, most researchers become producers and location directors. (I stress ‘location’ director, because studio director is a different job – it’s so very technical, and demands such split-second attention to detail, that most ordinary mortals would suffer mental meltdown if they tried it. One of the best studio directors I know has just trained to be an airline pilot. The two jobs require very similar personalities.) The great thing about coming up through the research route is that you’re allowed to learn on the job and you can progress at your own pace – your work is not ‘mission critical’ as people who like to use these sorts of phrases would say. If you’ve got the bottle and the talent, you can come up with a terrific idea, have a go at setting up the story, and even try your hand at writing a script, within weeks of getting your first job. If it’s not right, someone else can make it better. Whereas a trainee sound recordist can’t have a go until she’s absolutely ready (...what do you mean you forgot to plug it in!).

Being a researcher is a terrific job in its own right: it’s the linchpin of a production and the place where great ideas start. But it’s also the place where the buck naturally stops, which is probably why most researchers can’t wait to move into a job where they can boss crews around and yell things like ‘Whose fault is this!’, and ‘Get on with your work!’.

Getting your foot on the ladder

Some producers insist that new researchers work as ‘runners’ for a few weeks or even months, before becoming fully-fledged researchers. Most runners are young, inexperienced and so burning with the desire to work in television that they accept little or no financial reward for their efforts. Unscrupulous TV companies exploit this, and use them as unpaid labour. But a good, well-run production will treat its runners with respect; give them some real work to do, and offer the good ones properly-paid jobs as soon as possible. Becoming a runner is an excellent way to get your foot on the research ladder – but do it for a few months only, then ask for a proper job.

CAMERAS AND SOUND

Camera operators

Most camera operators start as trainees, and train for about two years before they’re allowed to operate a studio camera, or work as second camera on a drama shoot (at least that’s the official line – but in most companies, if you’re good at the job, you’ll get to do useful work sooner than that). Once they’re trained, they’re usually hooked, and most camera operators stay on camera forever – their only ambition is to become better and better at camera operating. Most camera people aspire to become senior camera operators or camera supervisors, and the best of the bunch become senior lighting camera operators, which means they get paid lots of money, and they get to shoot dramas. Seems there’s something addictive about operating a camera on a television show – when I was researching this book, one executive producer, who used to be a cameraman, confided:

It’s just the best feeling to be the person who captures magic moments on film or tape. I had to get out before I caught the bug, or I’d never have moved on.

The ones who do move on from camera operating tend to become lighting directors, and some of those become movie DOPs (Directors of Photography). And a few camera operators go on to become studio directors. I know three ex-cameramen who are now studio directors, and guess what – the crews love them and respect them, because they speak the same language, and understand the problems.

Sound recordists

Sound people also start as trainees. And they too tend to stay in sound forever, because sound is what they like and understand. It’s their idea of heaven to be let loose on a great big studio mixing desk, or perhaps to record sound on a top-notch location drama. Rarely, one breaks out and becomes a studio director, but it’s going against the grain. On the whole, a sound recordist’s ambition is to be better at sound recording.

POST-PRODUCTION

Editors and dubbing mixers usually start as post-production runners, then become trainees, and after about two years they get to do some proper editing or mixing. Very few people move out of post-production and into other areas, possibly because post production supervisors like to hire people who will stay editors and dubbing mixers for the duration of their careers. It takes a long time and a lot of money to train somebody to be a good editor – you don’t want them nipping off to do something else just when they’ve finally mastered the job. Here’s what the Head of Post Production for one of the major network companies has to say on the subject:

‘Some media students seem to be under the impression that becoming an editor is a good route to getting a job as a director. They couldn’t be more wrong. I’m not interested in hiring someone who wants to be a director – I’m looking for someone whose life’s ambition is to be the best editor in the industry.’

For the record, editors don’t always make good directors anyway. You’d think they would – after all they sit there day after day, making a director’s work look better, muttering things like: ‘Where’s the wide shot!’ and ‘Oh my God, she hasn’t done any cutaways, I don’t believe this!’. But being wise after the event doesn’t necessarily mean that you would be able to do the job yourself.

I know a documentary editor called Jon, who was once given the chance to direct, and do you know what? He was, let’s just say, a bit disappointing. He didn’t have the temperament for the job (directing is 100 percent all the time – you can’t let your attention slip for a second), and he just couldn’t see the big picture because he spent so much time concentrating on individual shots. He was so depressed by his efforts, he never asked to do any directing again. But don’t feel too sorry for him, he’s still a brilliant editor.

FLOOR/UNIT MANAGING

So you dream of being a drama director or producer? Then floor or unit managing is the career route for you. Generally, floor managers should also be able to unit manage; someone who works exclusively in the studio isn’t cost-effective. At some network companies, floor/unit managers also work as location managers, which means that they find locations, and are then in charge of the location during the shoot. To complicate things further, unit managers are also called first assistant directors. Floor/unit managers/first assistant directors (henceforth to be known as FUMFADs) all start as runners, then work their way up to become third assistant directors – ‘thirds’ for short. Thirds become ‘seconds’, and ‘seconds’ eventually become ‘firsts’, except in some companies, where the roles of ‘thirds’ and ‘seconds’ are combined into a completely new title, like ‘unit assistant’ or ‘organisational floor manager’. Are you following so far?

The work of a FUMFAD

Here’s what they all do:

Once a production has started shooting, the ‘third’ works as the assistant to the ‘first’ on location – getting extras ready, and organising everyone into the right positions – because the ‘first’ is tied to the camera (not literally, you understand), awaiting the director’s instructions.

The ‘second’ is the person behind the scenes. Seconds rarely visit the set. They spend their time back at base, carrying out the first’s instructions: coordinating transport, planning ahead to make sure all the props and people are in the right places, issuing call sheets, and generally making sure that the whole production runs like a military operation. Seconds also get to do some scheduling, which is a very important part of the FUMFAD’s job – scheduling means taking a script, breaking it down into bits, and working out which scenes to shoot on what days. On a big drama, working out the schedule is an enormous task.

The first, as you’ve probably gathered by now, is a very important person – he’s in overall charge of all the logistics for the studio or location shoot, so that all the director has to do is direct. It’s such an important job that many FUMFADs keep doing it forever, but some do move on to become drama production managers, or associate producers, as they’re sometimes known in the TV drama world (see next section for job description of production manager). And some FUMFADs keep going until they become drama producers or directors.

SECRETARIAL/ADMINISTRATION

If you join a TV company as a secretary, you have three possible career paths.

Becoming a production manager

The most common path is to train to become a production secretary, then a PA, and then – if you’re tough enough – a production manager. Production managers are powerful people.

It’s their job to track the production’s budget, hire staff and facilities, keep a check on schedules and generally manage the whole production so that the producer can concentrate on the creative stuff. A producer with a good production manager is a very happy producer indeed. Sometimes you get überproduction managers who oversee all the productions for a whole department, or – if it’s an independent – for the whole company.

Becoming a personal assistant

The second secretarial career choice is to become a personal assistant to a head of department.

Becoming a researcher

The third path is rarer than the first two, but it does happen regularly – some secretaries become researchers. I can think of at least four excellent researchers who started in a secretarial/administration job, and impressed their bosses so much that they were given the chance to research. You can read the story of how one of them did it in Chapter 3.

Like I said, if you’re good enough, and you work hard enough, you can do anything in television.

OTHER WAYS IN

Here’s a quick look at some of the other jobs I mentioned at the beginning of this chapter, and the skills and qualities you’d need if you wanted to pursue them.

Makeup

Some makeup artists have studied hairdressing and beauty therapy; others have gone to art or film school, and have degrees in something like drama or art and design. And most have worked in theatre doing wigs and makeup, before getting their first television job. You need an artistic disposition, a likeable personality, and a strong mothering instinct – a makeup artist’s work is close and intimate, and they have to deal with actors and presenters when they’re at their most insecure.

Costume

This is an ‘arty’ job too – the costume designer has a big influence on the final look of a programme. Among the many skills you’ll need for this job are:

• a knowledge of period dress
• an understanding of television lighting and how it affects the colour of different fabrics
• and a feel for characters, and how different personalities would dress.

Wardrobe and costume designers tend to come from the fashion industry, or from an art school background, and many work in theatre before breaking into television.

Set design

This is a highly specialised job. First, you need to be able to draw, then you need a degree in something like art and design, or architecture or stage design, or interior design (or something else design-y – you get the picture.) Again, lots of set designers start in theatre before moving into TV. But you’ll also need strong leadership qualities, a good business sense, and a feel for budgets – you’ll be in charge of a lot of people and you’ll have to be tough with them and bring their work in on budget and on time. You should also have a director’s eye. It’s a big job.

Graphic design

If you’re arty and you have a way with computers, you could have a fabulous life as a graphic designer. It’s a wide-ranging job: one day you could be deciding on the lettering for a show’s end credits; the next you could be called upon to produce some animation. Obviously you need to be a competent artist, but nowadays you also need to understand computer technology. An art degree or some sort of graphic design degree is a must.

Props

Props people are in charge of putting up the scenery, but they also have to look after all the little fiddly props like vases and other bits of decoration that might be required on a set. They need to be strong, with a good eye for detail, and a light touch. Many of them have a theatre background.

Grips

Grips are in charge of all the equipment on big location shoots: car mounts, cranes, dollies and tracks, as well as cameras. They also lay the tracks for tracking shots, which is an art in itself. They need to have an encyclopedic knowledge of television equipment, and how to rig it. For all these reasons, they too need to be strong. Grips learn on the job.

Sparks

Sparks are television electrical technicians. They’re in charge of all the lighting equipment, and they’re also responsible for electrical safety. They need to be strong enough to rig heavy lights. They need to be able to work fast and accurately. They also need to be qualified electricians. Some sparks work in theatre before moving into TV.

Crafts

‘Crafts’ is the catch-all title for the jobs of painters, carpenters (chippies) and drapesmen.

• Painters and carpenters often start as apprentices straight from school, but some come fully trained from theatre, and others have learned their trade doing shopfitting work, or exhibition work, before moving into TV.
• Drapesmen (for they do tend to be men) are people who are in charge of fabrics. There’s a huge amount of fabric used in television – studios are swathed in the stuff.

Craft workers need all the usual television attributes (good at teamwork, good at taking direction, good at working under difficult conditions and not moaning about it, and good at working very quickly) but they also need to be extra flexible because they can be called upon to work unsociable hours – sometimes even working right through the night – to get a set ready in time.