Being a personal assistant to a Hollywood star appears alluring on the surface: behind-the-scenes access to the film industry, glamorous parties, and opportunities for career advancement. Some assistants, like Sibi Blaži?, who was once Winona Ryder’s associate, have accelerated into exceptional roles such as becoming a stunt driver and marrying Christian Bale. Dana Brunetti, who was Kevin Spacey’s assistant, turned into an Academy Award-nominated producer.
Yet, not all see the same success stories. For many young individuals, this position takes them into an unpredictable world of zero-hour contracts, scanty regulations and minimal protection from their employer’s idiosyncrasies. Executing ambitious tasks like arranging a meal delivery from far-off locations becomes a norm.
More dauntingly, they may face verbal or sexual aggression, or be urged to undertake illegal actions such as acquiring contraband drugs. This fear evolves from the threat of job loss and industry ostracization. This sense of impotence became terrifyingly real when Kenneth Iwamasa, former assistant to Matthew Perry, was indicted for his involvement in Perry’s demise last year.
According to the court filings disclosed recently, Iwamasa admitted to assisting Perry in sourcing ketamine and administering the drug, including the deadly dose which ended Perry’s life in October. Although court records reveal that Iwamasa complied with Perry’s request for a ‘big dose’, whether he had the option to refuse remains an unaddressed query.
Much of Hollywood empathized with Iwamasa, comprehending the power dynamics between a celebrity and their assistant. A sentiment beautifully encapsulated by Rowena Chiu, a former assistant to Harvey Weinstein, stated in the New York Times: ‘In a paramount perspective, assistants do not possess themselves.’
In the vast majority of cases, even when the celebrity dies under dubious circumstances or is suspected of crime, their assistants escape criminal prosecution. Instances exist where assistants narrowly evaded a sinister fate. Michael Jackson’s last personal assistant, Michael Amir Williams, was luckily absent when Jackson’s physician administered the fatal propofol dose.
Williams ended up witnessing Conrad Murray’s trial, and not as a defendant. He recounted in his testimony that Murray rang him terrified, requesting urgent help. A similar instance involved Phil Spector’s assistant, Michelle Blaine, who fortunately wasn’t present when Spector fatally shot Lana Clarkson.
After the incidence, Blaine reported being hounded for matrimony by Spector. She suspected it was a tactic to avoid her potential testimony against him, as a husband cannot compel his wife to testify. Blaine, however, did not testify at either of Spector’s trials.
Often, assistants are so deeply interwoven within their employer’s lives, that even when the rest of the world criticizes their actions, these assistants continue to support them. During Robert Blake’s 2005 trial for murdering his wife, Daryn Goodall, Blake’s former assistant, contradicted a significant portion of the prosecution’s case by downplaying Blake’s regurgitative reaction on the night of his wife’s murder.
Two sisters, Lindsey Perryman-Dunn and Jennifer Emrich, both former assistants to R Kelly, revealed their defence of Kelly during his trials for child sexual abuse and misconduct charges. Despite multiple convictions, they insisted they were defending a great person wrongfully accused.
Former assistants often describe the job as gruelling, a ceaseless effort of making oneself indispensable, despite being considered disposable. Hollywood’s renowned producer, Scott Rudin, known for his intimidating demeanor, reportedly cycled through an astonishing number of assistants in a span of five years.
Echoing the sentiments of countless others, Chiu described her role as something akin to a ‘frightened butler’, in her New York Times piece, and emphasized the paradoxical nature of the job: to remain invisible yet omnipresent.
In some cases, an assistant may even face posthumous defamation. Hollywood lore suggests that the silent film director, FW Murnau, died in a car accident caused by his 14-year-old assistant, who was claimed to be engaging in sexual acts with him during the drive.
This legend, fueled majorly by the book ‘Hollywood Babylon’ by Kenneth Anger, has later been disproved through an examination of contemporary records. It was found that the assistant was indeed a 31-year-old Mexican-American, and Murnau was sitting in the back seat, rendering intimate contact impossible during their fatal accident.
While Murnau sustained deadly injuries and died the following day, his assistant, Eliazar Garcia Stevenson, lived for more than five decades but couldn’t entirely shake off the baseless rumors.
Factual or exaggerated, the stories of Hollywood assistants highlight the startling realities of the role – the immense pressures and risks they undertake, living in the shadows of the stars. Robbed of the glamour that it outwardly projects, the life of a Hollywood assistant is often a paradox, filled with unsaid challenges and unglamorous predicaments.