You’ve won the job, your director is selected and your storyboard is approved. It’s time to take the first step in the commercial production process. It’s time to cast your spots.

In your preproduction meeting you decide what you’re looking for. Then, faxing out the storyboard, scripts and specs from the meeting, you pass the ball over to the casting director.

What happens after the call goes out? Playback visited 93 Berkeley in Toronto to talk to one of three casting directors in the building, Gloria Mann.

Gloria Mann Casting is quiet and candlelit. Antique lamps and an ivy-green decor make for a lovely, calming office. Trevor Roberts, Mann’s 22-year-old cameraman/editor and assistant, sits at the front desk. He looks humble, if not overwhelmed by the woman who’s been running this business for 20 of the last 30 years.

Stylish in a Coco Chanel suit, Mann reveals the secret scrambles that occur in trying to find the perfect talent for a commercial spot.

First, Mann pores over the papers she receives via fax. She then consults the directors and producers because, as Mann explains, ‘a lot of times they can’t put it down on paper.’

Mann also studies the ad agencies’ and clients’ input on the spots, to give her the complete perspective.

Bouncing between the interview and several phone calls, Mann shares the next step in the process: ‘Once I’ve digested all the information, I type out what’s called a breakdown. And the breakdown goes to all the agents. On the breakdown, it will state the product, when it’s casting, when it shoots, when [they’ll be doing] the wardrobe. [It will also outline] the director, the producer, the advertising agency, where it’s airing and what the rates are.’

Instead of faxing the breakdown to all the individual agencies, Mann uses a service called Converse Smith. If by 5:30 p.m., Converse Smith has received the breakdown, it is forwarded to every agent in the city by the next day. Says Mann: ‘Every agent in the city gets a copy of every casting director’s job.’

With breakdowns in hand, the agents begin their work.

‘They pull pictures of the people they think are right for the job,’ Mann begins. ‘And they type up a submission form. On the form, they give me rates: scale, scale-and-a-half, double scale – whatever it is. Then they take it to a drop-off centre. I think there are five in the city [of Toronto]. So they have to have it there before 1:30 p.m. At 1:30, five couriers go to the drop-off centre and pick up the envelopes. They take it back to Converse Smith.

‘Converse Smith sorts it into different casting directors and then, by 2 p.m. (the latest is 2:15 p.m.), a courier comes with plastic bags full of these envelopes. Then the fun part begins,’ says Mann.

Mann explains that she reads the specs again before opening the envelopes. This helps her keep track, if she is juggling three or four projects at the same time.

Mann leaves no envelope unopened. ‘I open every envelope, because sometimes with [a lesser-known] agency you find a needle in a haystack.’ She continues: ‘And everybody is living a dream. So you can’t leave out anybody. Numerous times, I have found people from agencies that people have never heard of. That’s the way I work. I have to give everybody the same opportunity. And I can get 80 packages. I can get 3,000 pictures. And I don’t bring in more than 20 people in a category.’

How does Mann sift through the gigantic stack of smiling, glossy faces? She explains: ‘We put them in a pile with a submission sheet on each one. And then I sit down with all of them and pick out the people that I know are definitely wrong. Because every agent feels they have the best talent and their person is right on. And we know they’re not. But, hey, I give the agents credit – they love their people.’

Using animated hand gestures, Mann shows how the pile shrinks to only 200 pictures. ‘Then,’ Mann describes, ‘I choose the ones that I think are right, that I know. I’ve worked with them before, they’ve been booked by me before. So that gives me a good feeling because I know one of those people is going to get the job.’

With these ‘sure-things’ in hand, Mann goes ahead and looks for her wild cards, ‘people to give an opportunity to, that may have the look but maybe not the experience.’

Once the finalists are chosen, Mann tosses the rest of the pictures in a bin. From here, ‘a company called Saving Face comes in, picks up the pictures, [sorts them by] agencies and delivers them back for five cents a picture.’

Because they’re so expensive ($2 per picture) Mann insists, ‘I would never throw out a picture.’ This is particularly valuable for both actor (picture costs) and agent (courier costs). ‘I try to protect them,’ says Mann.

‘I only provide them [the production] with 20 people. They choose. Then they call me and put them on hold. [Finally] they go to their client with their selects and make a choice. Then they book it.’

There is no question Mann has a passion for her work.

‘I feel the job of a casting director and the reason why we’re hired is because we have to select the best of what’s given to us. When directors use the same casting person all the time, we start to get their eye. We start to understand their train of thought. Some directors like the good-looking people, some like the edgy people. Some people don’t care so much about the look. It’s the body movement, the charisma,’ Mann explains.

Despite this important working relationship between the director and the casting director, Mann believes directors shouldn’t get too comfortable with her or any of her competitors.

‘I really believe that directors should try other casting people. Because you never know what’s out there. And each casting director sees it differently. I can see a hip, cool guy one way and another casting director sees it differently. They hit the specs, but it’s a different eye. I used to get really hurt when my directors or producers would go somewhere else – it used to bother me,’ Mann explains.

However, after decades in the business, Mann has reached a level of maturity that not only facilitates sharing work with her competitors/peers, but becoming friends with many of them.

‘People say, ‘How can you be next door to Powerhouse Casting? Aren’t you competitors?’ No. We’re best friends. She [Powerhouse boss Kim Everest] needs my studio – she’s got it. I need her studio – I’ve got it. If she’s overloaded and needs help she talks to her production house, ‘Is it okay if Gloria takes over the job?’ – and I do the same. We have a wonderful relationship here.’

Mann is proud of the peaceful environment that she has created for her clients (50% of whom are Americans). She recently opened a studio and provides meals, office space and a boardroom for clients whom she gives ‘the run of the place.’

The industry veteran still seems to have boundless energy. She does a lot of spots using child actors and needs all the vigor she can muster to deal with stage mothers, agents and production people who all place their own demands on her.

Having been in the industry so long, Mann is pleased to see some of the changes that have been taking place, such as the increase in women running production shops and the lack of ethnic restrictions on her casting.

‘We’re looking for a Taco Bell kid and he can be anything [not just white]. We’ve come a long way. Twenty years ago we didn’t have that.’