Every star sparkles

Alex Coolman

There are kids who are merely cute, and then there are kids who are

stars. The difference, Phyllis Henson said, comes down to a quality

called “sparkle.”

“It’s kind of like charisma,” said Henson, who runs The Kids Hollywood

Connection, a Costa Mesa company that helps parents get their children

into acting and modeling. “It’s the difference between a child standing

up there and having no personality and one that just glows. It’s a kind

of a glow.”But what looks like sparkle to a doting parent often looks

like a casting mistake to Hollywood agents, which is why Henson has been

offering her services as a consultant to families of would-be child

celebrities for more than 20 years.

A major error parents make is assuming that their kids need to be

extensively photographed and elaborately costumed in order to break into

modeling or acting, said Henson, who handles children up to 16 years old.

In fact, she said, very young children grow so quickly that

professionally prepared photography portfolios are almost useless. And

dolling up a child in some sort of contrived outfit can be the kiss of

death: the sparkle gets smothered beneath all the clothing.

“You have to know how to package your child,” Henson said. “You don’t

want them to look like they’re at a beauty contest. You want to see a kid

that looks like they just came off the playground.”

“Packaging,” as Henson calls it, often comes down to stripping off all

the unfortunate clothing and styling choices parents make in hopes of

rendering their child more attractive. Bows are a major no-no, she said.

Perfectly coiffed hair is too tidy, and ought to be mussed up slightly in

order to be optimally endearing. Gold jewelry should be taken off as

quickly as possible.

Costa Mesa resident Yvette Gagnier, who brought her daughter Araiana to

Henson after some less-than-satisfactory experiences with other

organizations, was given a crash course in packaging as soon as she

walked in the door.

“I was really big on hats and bows,” Gagnier recalled. “She said ‘No, no,

no.”’

The newly restyled Araiana, who is not yet 2 years old, went on to land a

job modeling for what was either a newspaper advertisement or a page in

the Sears catalog -- Yvette isn’t quite sure which.

“I think it was a Sunday ad, but I never saw it,” Yvette said. “There’s

really no way to find out. But she got paid, you know?”

The business of packaging and selling children to the marketing industry

is not without its ethical complexities, but Yvette tries to approach the

business in a way that will make sense for her daughter.

“If she gets a little older and says ... ‘I don’t like this,’ then I’m

going to stop,” she said.

But Yvette, who grew up in what she characterized as a poor household,

doesn’t want her daughter to have to go through the same experience.

“I just don’t want her to have to settle, or to have to marry young to

feel like she’s getting out of a bad situation and home,” she said.

The financial rewards for children who act and model can be significant.

Modeling jobs typically pay between $100 and $150 an hour, Henson said,

while a child who is a member of the Screen Actors Guild commands a fee

of nearly $500 merely to appear on a set.

Over the life of a typical television commercial’s airplay, Henson said,

a child can make upward of $35,000 in residuals.

When a child reaches the age of 6, they are legally allowed to spend nine

hours a day at a set, which dramatically increases their earning power.

“Six is the golden age” in child acting, Henson said.

All that money waiting to be earned can occasionally drive parents to

approach their children’s careers in a more mercenary fashion than might

be healthy, Henson said, but the types of adult she calls “stage parents”

-- those who live vicariously through the experiences of their children

-- are less common now than they used to be.

“I don’t see as many pushy parents as I did many years ago,” Henson said.

“Reality has set in to a lot of parents. Now, 99% of them are doing it

for the right reason.”

Henson’s first contact with families who want their children to be in

show biz is usually a consultation at her office, during which she

determines whether a child has the right stuff -- not only sparkle, but

also the appropriate sort of behavior habits -- to make it. In some

cases, she said, she can detect a potential star who merely needs a

little time to grow up.

“If I see a child that has a lot of potential, but they’re not quite

ready because they’re a little shy or they keep a finger in their mouth

or whatever, I might recommend a workshop,” she said.

Other times, it becomes apparent to her that, despite the adoring looks a

child receives from its parents, a kid is simply not good material for

the industry.

“Real clingy” children are a major turnoff, Henson said, no matter how

much sparkle they have. Extremely shy kids are also unlikely to make her

cut.

Despite what some parents think, tremendous energy in a youngster isn’t

necessarily very attractive either. Henson said casting agents aren’t

very excited about the prospect of hiring a hyperactive kid who takes too

much effort to photograph and film.

If a child isn’t right for the business, Henson isn’t shy about saying

so.

“For some parents, it’s kind of a letdown,” she said. “They say ‘If my

kid just gets two or three auditions, I know they’ll get something.”’

But the sparkle is a crucial commodity, Henson said, and kids either have

it or they don’t.

“We know it the minute we see it,” she said.