The Voice, a short story from The Netherlands.

The Voice, a short story from The Netherlands.

In June 2010 S and I arrived in The Netherlands with the notion of finally ‘settling down’. Yes, it was time to get ‘proper’ jobs. To buy an apartment, maybe have kids and all that malarkey. What could possibly go wrong?

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Leighton: Welcome to your weekly dose of Films & Stars! Coming up this week… Robert Downey Jr. and Zach Galifianakis don’t exactly see eye to eye. 

Robert Downey Jr: I despise who you are on a cellular level!

Leighton: Charlie Sheen definitely has no issues with acrophobia. 

Charlie Sheen: I just wanna get high!

Leighton: …And Daniel Radcliffe claims to have nothing in common with his character Harry Potter!

Daniel Radcliffe: I think I’m allergic to magic!

Leighton: But first, sit down, buckle up and hold on tight for this week’s movie news!

“Aaaaand cut!” exclaimed Ozzy, shooting me a punchy thumbs up from behind the glass. “Great Leighton, I think you’re starting to get the hang of this”.

It was only my third day of work at Old Harbour Productions and things were going well. In fact, I was still pinching myself that I’d even managed to get the job. Indeed I could barely believe it when I got the call inviting me to come and do a voice test. 

The Voice, a short story from The Netherlands.

I was more than a little nervous when I first met Ozzy, Old Harbour’s towering sound engineer with a booming laugh and firm handshake. However, he quickly put me at ease with a few jokes and a quick look at his fearsome motorcycle out in the parking lot. “So how do you like Amsterdam?” he asked, as we took the elevator up to the production floor.

From there it was a flurry of names and faces. Eventually, right outside the recording booth, I was introduced to a portly, middle-aged Englishman called Aston and his irritable sausage dog, Winnie.

Aston was the polar opposite of Ozzy. Unsettlingly aloof, he greeted me with a limp handshake and an almost bored look that suggested he wanted this to be over as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, it turned out that Aston was the head of sales and therefore had a big say regarding my suitability as the company’s new voice over. 

The test went well enough, with Ozzy coaching me through a poorly written news piece about Reese Witherspoon and her wardrobe malfunction on the red carpet.

“Can you do that again Leighton? This time I really want to hear you stamping out those final words ok? Be as sarcastic as you want!” Aston meanwhile sat mute with his legs crossed, eyebrow arched, his head tilted to the ceiling.

The Voice, a short story from The Netherlands

A few days later I was called back for a second test, this time just with Ozzy. Afterwards, on the production floor, he asked me to check and edit a script. Three days after that I still hadn’t heard anything, thus I gave Old Harbour a call to see what was going on.

I got through to Anneloes, the friendly albeit ditzy HR girl. “Oh we are still waiting” she told me. “Ozzy likes you very much! But Aston… he’s not sure”. “Oh, right” I replied, a little startled by her candidness. Not sure as to how I should respond, I simply reiterated that I remained enthusiastic about the job and was a hundred and ten percent available and ready to start work. 

My career in broadcasting kicked off on the 1^st of September 2010. I was stationed in what was called The News Feed, a team of half a dozen Dutch editors responsible for providing daily movie and celebrity news to a number of international clients. In those early days I was simply cleaning up the scripts before heading to the studio for the morning recording sessions.

It was fun! I got to read, write and talk about the latest Hollywood releases while discovering my inner tabloid trash merchant along the way. Miley Cyrus says this… Lindsay Lohan did that… Justin Bieber is an ass… for the most part it hardly felt like work at all.

Old Harbour Productions.

In addition to the daily news, Ozzy trained me up as the voice host of four weekly TV programs. First, there was Films & Stars, a clean cut show for all the family. Then came the female friendly Hollywood Buzz with its focus on dramas and romantic comedies. And a child-friendly program called Kids Flix that mostly concentrated on the latest Pixar releases.

Finally, there was Action Zone, a quite ridiculous affair produced for… um… your average man’s man. Each episode was a rowdy romp where I had to make endless references to “hot chicks”, “massive guns” and “kick-ass effects”.

And I had to present it all in a rasping, over the top voice that always made me think of Dr. Claw from Inspector Gadget. It was a physical and mental workout smashing out that script each week. Hence my voice was often shot to pieces by the time we were done.

Old Harbour Productions was owned by a Dutch film journalist called Remy. He was quite the celebrity in The Netherlands, often appearing on TV and radio.

Remy wasn’t in the office much, due to the fact that he was usually jetting around the world interviewing Hollywood’s finest. As a result, he spent a fair amount of time in Los Angeles itself. All his interviews (some dating back to the early 80s) were stored on the company server and during my time at Old Harbour I got to watch nearly all of them. 

A Voice Over’s Life.

Remy’s interviews were fascinating, especially the exchanges before the camera officially started rolling. And those bits of chatter that took place after the interview had ended. As the weeks went by I learned that Meg Ryan could be exceptionally bristly. And that Robin Williams’ 100 mile per hour energy literally had no off button.

Elsewhere, James Franco came across as an asshole and Al Pacino might just be the nicest guy on earth. Oh… and to say that Jean-Claude van Damme isn’t the sharpest tool in the box could be the biggest understatement ever made.

I’d been working at Old Harbour for a few months when I finally bumped into Remy in one of the corridors. “Ah, you’re the new voice over”, he said cheerfully. “I think you’re doing a great job, keep up the good work!” It was one of just a handful of exchanges we had in my five years at the company. 

Outside of work, S and I finally moved out of her parents’ place and relocated to Amsterdam. My old buddy Kristof (from my Leuven days) brought our stuff over from Belgium. Filling every last inch of a rented minivan, he drove from the Belgian city of Diest to pick us up. Then the three of us set off for Amsterdam where a new apartment and life awaited.

The Voice, a short story from The Netherlands.

We were in a great location, right in the heart of town and just a ten minute walk from the Albert Cuyp Market. I’d always been petrified at the idea of settling down. However, those first months in Amsterdam felt like just my latest voyage of discovery.

The city was/is wonderful, a dizzying mix of glassy canals, wonky buildings, treasure-packed museums and leafy parks. We explored the gorgeous Vondelpark and checked out priceless art in the wondrous Rembrandt House. Moreover, I loved rummaging through the dusty antiques and black and white movie stills at the flea market in Waterlooplein.

Like a real Amsterdammer I bought a bike and began cycling to work. It was and to this day remains the most beautiful daily commute I’ve ever had. Every morning I’d make my way through the deserted canal streets towards Centraal Train Station.

Cutting through the station’s main hall, I took the back exit and cycled onto the free ferry for the five minute journey to Amsterdam North. Day by day, I witnessed the construction of EYE Film Museum right on the riverbank.

The Daily Commute.

It wasn’t long before my role at Old Harbour began to grow. Instead of editing the daily news pieces, Ozzy asked me to start writing them from scratch. This allowed the video editors to concentrate on editing.

It was great to have full control over content. I got to choose what we covered and write everything in my own words. Over time, this helped me become a better voice over. After all, it definitely felt more comfortable to record my own material.

I also took on the responsibility of revamping the company’s Star File series, a shoddy collection of outdated actor-director biographies. We had over a hundred of them, from old school legends like De Niro and Hoffman, to fresh-faced stars such as Robert Pattinson and Jessica Chastain.

The Star Files.

It would take me a couple of days to knock out a Star File. First I’d rewrite the original script before inserting interview clips from the server. Later, I’d head up to the studio with either Eva, Kim or Remco, the editors who brought everything to life onscreen.

It was the Star File project that finally got me into Aston’s good books. He’d remained suspicious about me for months after my appointment. Always coming up with little critiques and pernickety comments. I don’t recall there ever being a compliment, nor indeed anything resembling words of encouragement.

But when he watched my Star File on George Clooney and saw how the series was being brought back from the dead, I think he realised that he essentially had a new product to sell. Aston and I were never going to be best buddies, but it was good to know I’d at least gotten him off my back.

 

I was alone in the office one morning whipping up the day’s movie news when the phone rang. “Hey Leighton, it’s Han!” Han was one of the News Feed editors and it was a big surprise to hear from him, because just a few days earlier he’d gone on vacation to Vietnam. 

“I’m in an electrical store in Hanoi and they’ve got like a thousand TVs in here.

And they’re all blasting out… YOU!”

Extending the phone out to the nearest row of screens, Han treated me to a ten second storm of Action Zone. I could actually hear myself waxing lyrical about some “AWESOME” scene from a crappy Jason Statham movie. And then the line suddenly went dead. All I could do was let out a bemused chuckle and shuffle off to the kitchen for coffee.

“Are you enjoying life here?” asked Lianne, the newsfeed’s well-dressed manager. We were at lunch one afternoon eating Bitterballen in the little café across from the office. “I am!” I exclaimed, with a wide smile. And I truly was. If someone had told me that one day I’d be writing and talking about movies for a living, I would’ve laughed in his or her face. 

That said, I felt that there was more I could do for Old Harbour. I wanted to get in front of the camera and contribute to The Hotseat, an MTV show reviewing upcoming movies. And, more than anything else, I hoped to get into the interviewing side of things. But of course Remy did most of that.

For the press junkets he couldn’t do, there was Ruben, another established film journalist. Third in line was Lisa, a self centred, tantrum-throwing egoist who guarded any spare interview opportunities with her life. “Just keep working hard and maybe one day you’ll get the chance!” S told me. Yeah right, I remember thinking.

The Voice, a short story from The Netherlands.

I’ve always been a bit of a half glass empty kinda guy. Therefore, I certainly didn’t see it coming when Remy wandered up to my desk one day. “Leighton, are you busy this weekend?” he asked casually.

“Um… not really. Why, what’s up?” “Well…” he said, the first traces of a smile beginning to form at the corners of his mouth. “How would you like to go to New York and interview Jake Gyllenhaal?”

‘Celebrations and Recriminations’ is the first chapter of my short story collection Notes From The Netherlands.

I’ve been living, working and traveling all over the world since 2001. So why not check out my huge library of travel reports from over 40 countries.

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