Hollywood career coach gives advice to grieving actor

My character was killed. Is my career dead?

Dear Rémy,

I always knew my character would be killed off.

When I took on the role of the patriarch in a prestige drama series, the production company made it very clear that the man I was going to play had an expiration date. I didn't think about it at the time, thinking instead about the quality of the producers' communication. My colleagues were informed of the deaths of their characters by reading the pages that the script runners brought in their trailers. At least I hadn't found out that the person I was playing would meet a grisly end in front of an acne-ridden film school graduate who constantly got my coffee order wrong.

So it took me by surprise when we filmed my last scenes of the series and I felt heartbreak. I know that doesn't make any sense. But when I was invited into the edit to watch my final episode, I can only describe it as an out-of-body experience. Except instead of hovering over me like Patrick Swayze in Ghost, I was in a cozy viewing room in West Hollywood, confronting my post-mortem face in 4K.

To make matters worse, I am often approached by fans who seem surprised to discover me alive. “I thought you were dead!” they will exclaim or suggest that I have “returned from the grave”. One person even asked me if they could dress up as a reanimated zombie version of my character for Halloween. I know this is all a joke, but jokes leave me perplexed.

Remy, am I just a narcissist, or is there something more at play here? I'm now over 70 and have more wrinkles than when I took this job. I need to focus on finding the next role, not crying about the last one!

Sincerely,
Death numbs him

Dear death numbs him,

It would be normal for any actor to feel a sense of loss as a role comes to its final end. But a complete existential crisis (like the one you seem to be experiencing) is something else.

Maybe the clue to what's really going on here is in your last sentence. Few roles are written for 70-year-old actors. Do you mourn your past and, in very practical terms, worry about the future?

The average life expectancy in the United States is 76 years for men and 81 years for women. Yet we like to pretend that death is something that only happens to other people. And we'll hear about it in the “In Memoriam” section of the upcoming awards show, when a choral version of a Billie Eilish song will be performed.

On the other hand, the fact that a human life lasts about 1,000 months is something we forget. Why not imagine that you are 95 years old, sitting in a beautiful place. You feel like your life has been a success. What is the one thing you have accomplished that makes you think that? The answer to this question is your true goal.

And when the next person comes up to you and says they “thought you were dead,” why not play along? How amazing would it be if you came back from the dead, if you had another chance to live a life you thought was cut short? Gaze at yourself with the kind of wonder that would allow: wrinkles and all.

Will my kindness sink my career in Hollywood?

Dear Rémy,

Is it possible to be too nice in Hollywood?

I am responsible for development in a studio specializing in drama series. Lately I've been spending more and more time reading unsolicited scripts from friends, friends of friends, and even friends of moms of pastors of friends of cats of friends of neighbors. .

It seems like everyone considers themselves a writer and is convinced that their one idea will be the one that makes Hollywood's collective jaws drop. I think I've heard every iteration of an apocalypse plot (including one where Patient Zero was a WWE wrestler and another was on a fleet of jet skis), and don't get me started on people who think that they are the new M. Night. Shyamalan!

But despite all my strength, I can't find a way to be honest with people. I spend hours going back and forth with aspiring writers to give feedback on their romance movie — the one they think is the new “Notebook” but wouldn't hold up on the Hallmark Channel. The CEO of the company is getting impatient with me. That being said, he also asked me the other day if I could watch his niece's war epic.

I feel like a Jedi script, pushing the pages from every angle. I've been saying yes to people for so long, how can I change things?

From,
Life is a pitch

Dear, life is a pitch,

You raised a fundamental question that many people in Hollywood face: Can you be too nice in an industry that often rewards the opposite?

The reason everyone comes to your door is because you've made yourself approachable and welcoming – qualities that are admirable but make setting boundaries difficult. Remember, you are not Betty Crocker and you cannot meet the needs of everyone who comes along.

Here are some practical tips to better manage your priorities:

1. Set clear boundaries: Let people know politely but firmly that your main focus should be on your current projects. Create a standard response for unsolicited scripts.
2. Prioritize your work: Your job is in danger if you don't focus on your core responsibilities. Schedule specific times to review knowledge scripts.
3. Communicate honestly: Start being honest about the quality of the scripts you receive. In the long run, it's nicer to give constructive feedback than to give false hope.
4. Limit access: Politely decline requests that exceed your capabilities. You can humorously suggest that they work directly with M. Night Shyamalan if they are convinced they have the next big twist!

Hollywood isn't always the friendliest place, but having an element of kindness isn't a bad thing. Just make sure it's balanced with confidence to protect your time and energy.

Maintain your kindness, but use it wisely. You're doing the industry a favor by filtering out what doesn't work and focusing on what does.

Your ally in scenario selection,

Remy

My filtered photo fiasco

Dear Rémy,

I am castigated by the press on both sides of the Atlantic, just for editing a photo of myself.

When I married into a famous family, I was fully prepared for my life to be exposed to the public. I saw it as a contract: I would be taken care of and, in return, the masses would own me.

But recently I had to take a few months off following a medical procedure (nothing serious. On a scale from bunion removal to heart bypass surgery, it was closer to bunion removal) .

Rather than let me disappear, my publicist insisted I share a casual selfie while I recovered. I wasn't looking my best, so I used the “Princess AI” filter and uploaded the photo.

All hell broke loose. Reels of unfavorable comments leaked onto my page. I've been called “trout lips” and “Botox Betty,” and one user said she's seen better wax creations in Yankee Candle. Even worse: numerous articles have been published linking my public profile to the rise of body dysmorphia among adolescents.

The one and only time I was tested without makeup at my local grocery store, a few years ago, everyone said I must “do a Britney circa 2008″… now I use a filter, they say I am not authentic.

Dear Rémy, I am questioning my own sanity. Is it my problem, an industrial problem or a societal problem?

Sincerely,
Filter face

Dear filter face,

What a whirlwind you are caught in! First, let me assure you that the idea that you have to look flawless to be valued is not exclusive to Hollywood: it's a universal struggle. From schmaltzy films with grease on the camera lens (the “original” filter) to today's influencers with teams sweeping away imperfections like flies, we've all been convinced that immaculate looks are Standard.

So it's no wonder your filtered photo sparked such a reaction. In reality, your face has become a backdrop for society's unaddressed fears: our anxieties about being “good enough,” about growing old, and maintaining our worth. When it's as easy to filter our faces as it is to turn on the oven (although I don't recommend confusing the two), the lines between authenticity and artifice blur.

When it comes to body dysmorphia issues, it's crucial to recognize the impact media can have on impressionable minds. By being transparent about the use of filters, you can counteract some of the negative effects. Encourage your followers to embrace their natural selves and seek help if they're struggling with body image issues.

Your friend in the fickle realm of glory,

Remy

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Remy Blumenfeld is a veteran television producer and founder of Vitality Guru, which provides business and career coaching to top performers in media. Send your questions to: [email protected].

Questions edited by Sarah Mills.