In the money: Fame without fortune

By WARREN GAMBLE

Lana Coc-Kroft has had one of her hottest screen years - now she is between jobs.

Auckland-based actors' agent Robert Bruce says many of the budding stars on his books are not registered for GST - meaning they earn less than $34,000 a year.

And while the top All Blacks, Warriors, cricketers and (former) yachting heroes can make a thoroughly decent living in their brief time at the top, they are hardly rolling in it.

In New Zealand, the small pond which allows you to become recognised in the street for a bit part on THE Street, also keeps a lid on how much you can turn your fame into fortune.

Our reality television equivalents of the cheesy 1980s show Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous tend to be trips through the funky domains of the latter, not the lavish homes of the former.

The alchemy which allows global stars such as former basketballer Michael Jordan to make recognition pay, is absent here, with the possible exception of Paul Holmes.

This is mainly down to simple economics. New Zealand's domestic market can support only so many women's magazines, celebrity-hungry advertisers and public-speaking opportunities where those in the limelight can turn their well-paid day jobs into stellar earnings.

For example, industry sources say the top price an A-grade New Zealand celebrity can expect for a magazine exclusive on their wedding is around $50,000.

They will have to have a proven cover-story record of boosting sales. In New Zealand the top sphere is now inhabited by few, headed by the multi-media pulling power of Holmes. Rachel Hunter and Judy Bailey have been in that league, but their magazine magnetism has waned.

A lesser galaxy of celebrities can expect to get $25,000 to $30,000 for their weddings and babies, and less for their health dramas.

It's easy money if you can get it, but unless you are a serial engager, aisle-walker, parent or hypochondriac - and even then the law of diminishing returns kicks in - it is not going to set you up for life.

Compare that to the almost $3 million Michael Douglas and Catherine Zeta-Jones got from British magazine OK! for their wedding three years ago.

Fronting a major television advertising campaign might net you $25,000 to $40,000, but most personalities have an average three-commercial life to avoid brand confusion.

And the most sought-after public speakers may get $5000 to $10,000 an event at their peak. More usually they get around $2500 and, like novelty burgers, appear for a limited time only.

(Former United States President Bill Clinton, now more celebrity than politician, was rumoured to have been paid $500,000 for a speech in Auckland last year.)

Coc-Kroft knows about the changing fortunes of fame, after 15 years on the celebrity rollercoaster. In the past month she finished one of the highest-profile runs of her career with weekly appearances on DIY Dads and Sportscafe followed by last week's co-hosting of Test the Nation.

But now she has no contracted work for a month.

"While my profile is at the hottest, I'm basically unemployed," she says. "That's the irony of this business."

She is not complaining because she says her work has helped her family, businessman Stephen Gleye and her two young sons, enjoy a comfortable lifestyle.

Coc-Kroft says she counts wealth as family and friends more than money, but the former beauty queen says she is much better off being in the media, than out of it.

"Being in a high-profile position you do get to have commercial situations where you earn a lot of money in a short period of time."

But the vagaries of the industry mean she has had to diversify to survive: "Fame in New Zealand comes and goes. You can be famous for a minute and then you are off and they have forgotten your name."

When her radio show was canned she moved into hosting a live weekly event for women; now she is working on a range of children's health food.

Coc-Kroft says some people do equate being on the telly with earning vast sums, living in a mansion, or driving a Porsche (she has a four-wheel drive and lives in a largely unrenovated suburban bungalow).

"But most people realise I'm not out there living the lifestyle, I don't buy a new wardrobe every month, I don't eat out five times a week. I lead a fairly normal lifestyle which is nice but not incredibly flash."

Robert Bruce, who has represented actors for 25 years, regularly disabuses aspiring stars that their future is littered with gold.

"The average actor who may even be a household name [in New Zealand], they would be lucky if they would earn what a decent PA would."

To make big money you have to have international success. To make really big money you have to break into Fortress Hollywood.

That requires a leading part in one of the handful of internationally successful local films such as Once Were Warriors and now Whale Rider.

Then you have to make the right contacts and sort out the legalities of working in the United States which will set you back around $60,000 in legal fees.

Those New Zealand actors who have made it into Hollywood films, such as Temuera Morrison, get paid comparatively well for bit parts in movies such as Star Wars but that might be Morrison's only American appearance in a year.

At home, Bruce says the big-budget overseas productions such as Lord of the Rings have been a boost for struggling actors.

But the former wrestler is no-holds-barred about New Zealand films, saying the daily pay rates to actors, between $400 and $600, are a joke.

He says they have barely changed, and in some cases have declined, in the past 15 years. While the Government has announced tax breaks for films made here with budgets of more than $15 million, Bruce says many projects never approach that mark.

Without incentives, production costs are cut, filming is squeezed, pay rates are kept low and the quality suffers, says Bruce.

As a result, he says, many actors have to subsidise their careers doing other jobs. Kevin Smith, the actor who died last year, did stand-up comedy, voiceovers and debates while working towards the big break.

Tragically, he died in a fall in China as he was about to take up a role opposite Bruce Willis in a Hollywood film.

Bruce says Smith, whose appearances on Hercules and Xena brought him international recognition, had bought his first new car a year before he died.

Shortland Street is still the staple income earner for up-and-coming actors who have in turn become local celebrities. But familiarity, and a decline in star power since the days of Morrison's Dr Ropata, Angela Dotchin's Kirsty and Angela Bloomfield's Rachel, has been a turn-off for magazines and a limiting factor on salaries.

No one will talk money, but industry estimates are that main characters on the street earn $50,000-plus, with few now earning six figures.

Bruce believes money-conscious funders and producers also impede the creation of local stars. "They are very anti anyone getting in a position where they can demand too much money."

Sports agent Glenda Hughes says the public have the earning power of players out of proportion.

Previously published figures show the top All Blacks, Warriors, cricketers and some yachtsmen get six-figure salaries.

But Hughes says that select few has skewed public perception of what all professional sportspeople earn.

"I think the attention given to professionalism in rugby has created this view that others are wealthy as well."

Off the field, unless athletes have an international contract such as rugby's Jonah Lomu has with adidas, the advertising and sponsorship dollars are modest.

Players are likely to get sponsored sportswear for their own use, rather than big dollops of money for promoting it.

Overall, the message is clear and unsurprising.

Celebrities in New Zealand can do nicely thanks, but if they want to turn glamour into real gold they have to succeed overseas. And that's an awfully big pond with many brightly coloured fish to swim against.