"I heard you're looking for an actor?"
A director with a massive beard and a nearly bald head tracked Joey down on set one afternoon.
Joey eyed him warily, trying to picture what kind of "talent" a guy from the industry half-jokingly called a San Fernando Valley legend might bring her.
The guy clocked her hesitation and smirked. "I know you Hollywood types look down on us Valley directors. You think you're saving the world while we're just peddling porn."
Joey threw her hands up. "Whoa, no way! That's not it at all. I'm just… are you about to recommend a male adult-film star for my movie?"
He laughed, totally unbothered. "So it's not just the directors you look down on; it's the actors too?"
Joey winced. "Look, different specialties, okay? I'm not sure an adult actor can match the tone we need…"
He leaned in, suddenly serious. "The guy I've got is the most naturally gifted performer I've ever shot with in the Valley. Kid's got real potential. I want him to have a shot at the big screen, so the second I heard you were short a male role, I came straight here."
Joey squinted. "You're sure he's actually good? I don't care where he's been; heroes don't ask for résumés; but why would someone with real talent stay in porn? Doesn't he want legit movies?"
"He does. He just never got the break. When I met him he was literally sleeping under a bridge. Told him I'd pay him six grand a scene. He's been working with me ever since. Trust me, the kid's got it. I'm trying to get him out."
(For the record, plenty of future A-listers paid rent with skin flicks back in the day; Stallone, Schwarzenegger, you name it.)
Joey finally caved. "Fine. Bring him in for an audition."
A couple days later, Perran Fells walked onto her set.
Quiet guy. Tall, brooding, black-cat eyes that lock onto you out of nowhere and don't let go. Zero small talk.
Joey gave him the quick rundown: he'd be playing Juno's mom's long-time "situationship"; the charming, spineless dude who's been stringing her along for years but never planned to wife her up.
Honestly, Joey figured a guy this stoic and built like a brick wall couldn't pull off "smarmy coward." She was wrong.
He just stood there, slipped into character in two seconds flat, and suddenly the air in the room changed. Those eyes turned slick and scheming. He inhaled, flashed a cocky little smile, and delivered the line like he'd been breaking hearts since middle school:
"What? Marriage? Judy, come on; let's not ruin a good thing."
Then he turned to Joey with that same flirty, fake-innocent grin. "Maybe focus on your bratty kid first, huh?"
Goosebumps. Actual goosebumps.
"Perfect!" Joey yelled, jogging over and smacking his arm. "You're like a totally different person; it's giving split personality and I'm here for it!"
Everyone cracked up except Perran. He just gave a tiny nod, muttered "thanks," and looked away again, like he was carrying the weight of the world.
Joey's gut said: this dude's the real deal. Quiet, serious, probably got stories. He's going places.
Cue the set exploding: Joey Grant just hired a San Fernando Valley adult actor for the only decent male role in the movie.
Rebecca, the lead, freaked out. "I'm gonna get groped, aren't I?!"
Joey rolled her eyes. "Relax. Dude looks like a depressed lumberjack. You're safe."
The next few days of shooting actually went smooth. Joey was in her element, sun-hat on her baseball cap, barking orders like a general.
"Boom op, get your ass over here! You trying to shoot us or the porn set next door?"
She pulled Joyce (Juno's mom) aside. "Joyce, babe, you're gorgeous but you're giving me Botox-face right now."
Joyce blinked. "You want me bigger?"
"No! I don't need Vivien Leigh in full streetcar mode, but your character's a hot mess; neurotic, fragile, a little unhinged. Think Blanche DuBois in A Streetcar Named Desire; delicate but one bad day away from losing it completely. Give me that vibe."
Joyce closed her eyes, took a breath, then opened them with this soft, seductive, totally broken stare; like she might start crying or screaming any second. The crazy was simmering right under the surface.
"Yes! YES!" Joey screamed. "That's the one! I love you almost as much as I love Vivien Leigh, and that's saying something!"
She brought Rebecca over for a three-way huddle. If these two nailed their mother-daughter chaos, the movie was golden.
Rebecca was a natural. Joyce just needed a tiny nudge. Today, Joey felt good.
Then came Perran's big scene opposite Joyce.
If Joey had to pick the biggest happy accident of the whole shoot, it was discovering this guy. He's only in a handful of scenes, but the way he flips from quiet intensity to sleazy charm; dude was born for this. Future Hollywood treasure, mark her words.
Inside the soundstage, Joyce is losing it at him:
"Seven years, and you never once planned to marry me? You lying piece of—"
She storms toward the sidewalk, screaming her head off.
"CUT!" Joey yelled. She stared at the monitor forever, then waved Joyce over; no yelling, just a gentle. "Joyce, go drink something. Like, actually get tipsy and come back."
Joyce looked confused. "You want me drunk?"
"You're playing a woman who's finally snapping after years of denial. You're too in control right now. So yeah; go get buzzed. Loosen up. Let the crazy out."
Joyce laughed. "You're kind of a genius director, you know that?"
She grabbed two mini-bottles of brandy from crafty and started knocking them back like a pro.
Joey grinned. Sometimes the job isn't just calling "action"; it's figuring out how to set your actors free.