Dull guest list? Call the star wranglers

As Hollywood party pros, Joshua Richman, Shane Powers and Hartwell (just Hartwell), founders of the Alliance, have picked up a few insights into poseur behavior. They know, for example, that crashers talk too much. “They start dropping names, which is a surefire way to get us to stop listening,” says Richman, the eccentric of the group who never leaves home without his black fedora and 8-ball-capped cane. “Herbs” he calls them. As in, “ ‘Are you really going to let that ‘Herb’ in?’ ”

But running some of the most ironclad events and parties in town isn’t just about knowing whom to let in and whom to keep out. It’s about getting the right people there in the first place. The self-described trio of “event strategists” are the type who have the pull to BlackBerry Keanu -- and get a rapid-fire response. In Hollywood’s oversaturated social scene, where the competition for best bash, awards or charity event is fierce, they’re in high demand.

Longtime club promoters, Richman, Powers and Hartwell formed the Alliance five years ago. Though they don’t have an office and they keep the numbers unlisted, the Alliance is part of a growing niche industry in Hollywood: event coordinators who guarantee clients a cool affair for upward of $10,000 per event. This new breed of soiree specialist exists in a gray area somewhere between entertainment marketing executive and hands-on event planner.

They don’t dream up wild centerpieces or construct catwalks or even mastermind strategic seating arrangements. Instead, they’re purveyors of cool, hip-makers called on by clients such as Heineken, Sony and Dennis Publishing to secure over-the-top venues, groovy DJs and tailored guest lists.

For corporate clients looking to up the hip quotient of their brands, attaching companies such as the Alliance to a party is sort of like attaching Julia Roberts to a movie. They know how to draw a crowd -- and even more important, the right crowd -- by whatever means necessary, whether it’s personal persuasion, a cellphone call list to die for or even lucrative appearance fees to corral rising stars.

Inside the GM “Ten” fashion show on a recent Tuesday night in Hollywood, more than 1,500 mover-shaker-tastemakers were knocking back Stoli tonics. Outside it was pouring pellets, but the Alliance trio was too distracted to notice. “A&D; are 30 seconds away,” chirped a perky young publicist, microphone in ear, clipboard in hand. Richman darted through the puddles in his Louis Vuitton Air Jordans to meet them. Ashton Kutcher hugged him, Demi Moore kissed him, and like some kind of covert-ops event specialist, he fast-tracked the power couple through the crowd and into the SkyBar-styled lounge for the cars and stars fashion show.

“They know how to have a great time,” said Kutcher from his front-row seat. “Their parties have the more substantive people -- people you can actually have a conversation with, as opposed to just the eye candy.” He paused to take in the view, then added with a grin, “but they have plenty of eye candy too.”

Tom Freydl, director of Ketchum Entertainment Marketing, tapped into the trend last fall when he was faced with the challenge of promoting a Minneapolis-based computer service called the Geek Squad. Freydl hired the Alliance to make the geek-fest chic. Together with party planner Jeffrey Best, the team delivered a blowout bash at the ArcLight Cinemas with a guest list that included David Arquette, Anthony Kiedis of the Red Hot Chili Peppers and a brigade of long-legged babes.

“Honestly, I had never been to a party with that level of coolness,” says Freydl. “People stayed until the very end. That never happens at a corporate event.”

Jessica Meisels knows all about coolness -- and the power of celebrity. Meisels, a self-described “talent coordinator,” and her partner Greg Link are the co-owners of the publicity and events firm Fingerprint Communications. They are regularly called on by clients such as W Magazine and the Indy Racing League to utilize a Rolodex that includes everyone from philanthropist Barbara Davis (Meisels is friends with Davis’ grandson Brandon) to Paris Hilton (they’ve known each other since Meisels’ New York days).

Corporate can be hip

Pumping up corporate fetes with star power is nothing new; it’s long been an unpaid part of the PR package. But with the recent boom of weekly celeb rags and “Entertainment Tonight” rip-offs, and the free publicity they provide, it’s become a big business, one that commands up to $50,000 if you include budget for celebrity bait -- gifts, transportation and charity donations in the stars’ name. Top publicity houses such as BNC (Bragman Nyman Cafarelli) regularly hire well-connected independent operators such as Fingerprint and the Alliance to jump-start their clients’ events with some trophy guests.

But those in the field bristle at the label of “celebrity wranglers” (try celebrity recruiter, liaison or even guest list manager) and fill out their job descriptions with other duties including marketing, event consulting and production.

“It just sounds so tacky,” says Ashlee Margolis, who left her PR gig two years ago to start her own wrangling business. Still, Margolis, an L.A. scenester who grew up palling around with Quincy Jones’ daughter, Rashida, and is now a go-to wrangler for the charity luncheon set, accepts that the title comes with the territory. She works out of her house and doesn’t even have a business card, but if she did, she says it would have to have a lasso on it.

“When I tell people outside of the industry what I do, they have no idea what I’m talking about. I should be working on a ranch,” she jokes. “That would make more sense.”

Semantics aside, they’re all linked by their ability to deliver the in-crowd and help their clients’ fetes stand out in an increasingly glutted market filled with ubiquitous award shows, the charity dinner du jour and competing blowout parties.

“There’s so much more competition now,” says David Pinsky, director of entertainment marketing at Motorola. “It’s no longer ‘let’s just throw a party.’ You have to make it the party that everyone’s talking about, the event of the season.”

In other words, a $300 gift bag isn’t going to cut it anymore. To attract the cranky, partied-out corps of Hollywood celebs, you need to guarantee an event’s “it” factor.

To do so, they all agree, you’ve got to ensure the right mix of people. Celebs may get you the press, but they don’t necessarily guarantee a good time. Giving good guest list is a strategic balancing act that requires just the right mix of stars, industry-ites and beautiful people, explains Meisels.

A big part of the promoting game, then, is mastering the degrees-of-separation strategy. “It’s who knows who, who can put in the personal call, who has the relationship,” says Jose Martinez, who heads up celebrity recruiting at Harrison & Shriftman, one of the few big publicity firms where all of the celeb outreach is done in-house.

If there’s no direct relationship, you work your way down. You want Nicole Kidman? Start with her pal Naomi Watts. If it’s Watts you want, invite her stylist, her trainer, her homeopath. Keeping tabs on their love lives is also key. Margolis managed to lure Charlize Theron to a charity benefit for the Aaliyah Memorial Fund last year when Theron’s boyfriend, Stuart Townsend, agreed to be on the host committee. Once the connections are exhausted, it’s a matter of basic street-team tactics. Going out every night, partying like it’s their job, and spreading the word.

Yeah, but will they show?

Of course, any party thrower’s worst nightmare is that the talent won’t show. Shara Koplowitz, a former vice president at Harrison & Shriftman, narrowly averted that disaster a few years back at a party for hip-hop artist and producer Pharrell Williams at the Hard Rock Hotel in Las Vegas. “We thought it was a no-brainer,” says Koplowitz, who figured Williams’ clients -- among them Snoop, Puffy and Justin Timberlake -- would be sure to show. But half an hour into the event, the red carpet was still as empty as a bottle of Cristal on Sunday morning, and everyone, including the Hard Rock CEO, was freaking out. Koplowitz had no choice but to start begging.

A few years earlier, she’d worked with ‘N Sync’s charity, Challenge for the Children, and hit it off with Timberlake’s bodyguard. Over the years she sent him free stuff -- a bottle of Tanqueray here, a cellphone there. So when she put out the pager-plea, Big Mike responded right away. Within 15 minutes, Timberlake was at the back door. “Next thing we know, the place was packed and Justin and Busta Rhymes are on stage singing together,” recalls Koplowitz. “It was my biggest save.”

Snagging the premium A-listers -- the Toms, Brads and Halles -- requires a little more maneuvering. There’s always the gifting game. Come to our party and we’ll give you a PlayStation, a Cartier necklace or VW Bug. Paying them to party is another strategy. But the price tags can be steep. According to Martinez, stars of the moment, such as Eva Longoria and Teri Hatcher, have been known to command $50,000 appearance fees. Attaching a charity or creating an award in their honor, he says, is a safer, cheaper bet. Better yet? Give an award to one of their pals.

Take, for example, the time he landed Tom Cruise for Movieline’s Young Hollywood Awards. The hook? They were honoring “Jerry Maguire” director Cameron Crowe with a role model award, and Cruise agreed to present. Was the award just a ploy to get the A-lister to commit? Martinez won’t say. “But it was the Young Hollywood awards, and let’s face it, Cruise and Crowe aren’t exactly fresh faces anymore.”

Of course, things don’t always go so smoothly. Even if a celeb says yes to the invite, there’s never any guarantee they’ll actually show. “You work and work to confirm them, and you always know that 60-70% of them aren’t even going to make it,” says Koplowitz, who retired from wrangling last year.

As frustrating as it is, the flake factor is an inevitable -- and necessary -- part of the game. If A-listers were actually easy to pin down, celeb recruiters would be out of a job. No one understands that better than Koplowitz, who now works on the other side of the fence as a personal publicist, playing gatekeeper for the celebs she once courted. “Now I know just how many of those invites go straight into the trash.”