A Hollywood career coach offers advice to a conflicted media heir and a shunned star

I'm getting canceled because of things my character did!

Dear Remy,

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In the 90s, I was in great shape thanks to a role in a multi-award-winning sitcom and I was on the cover of every magazine. I was even considered for a shoot for Calvin Klein alongside Kate Moss but I was passed by someone with more visible abs.

Fast forward to 2024, and I'm now a Hollywood outcast who would have a hard time getting seen by an extras agency.

What terrible thing did I do to cause this turnaround to happen to me? you ask yourself. Here's the rub, Remy: absolutely nothing.

Instead, the character I played in the 90s was deemed problematic. Younger viewers scrutinized his every move in a 4:3 format and found him ethically bankrupt. He catered to women, had age-gap relationships, made jokes at the expense of minority groups, and was generally, as one Reddit commenter put it, a toxic mess with a culturally appropriate cherry on top.

When I started, problematic was a term we used to calculate residuals, and toxic referred to oil spills. And yet, now I have to respond to a group of new fans of my show who wore diapers while filming.

Remy, I'm perplexed. Should I denounce the character I play? Or is it time for a whole new identity? If Prince can become a symbol and Taylor Swift can recover from Cats movie, maybe I can have a reinvention?

Yours,

Victim of cancel culture

Dear Cancel Culture Casualty,

Who would have thought that a character you played back then would come back to haunt you like this?

First, let’s address the obvious: Yes, your character is problematic by today’s standards. But here’s the good news: You, my friend, are not your character. You are an actor. An actor who lived through the ’90s, a time when stars were made and broken up like defective Build-a-Bears with alarming frequency..

Can you look for roles that showcase your versatility and commitment to progressive storytelling? Whether it's playing the empathetic father in a family drama or the ally in a powerful social commentary, make sure your next roles reflect who you are today, not who you pretended to be in the 90s. And if, as you say, the work doesn't come to you, then you have to create it.

What if you turned the tables by getting a little creative? How about a YouTube series where your character makes amends for their past behavior? Imagine the comedic potential of your character apologizing to those they wronged, learning modern social norms, and even becoming an advocate for the issues they were insensitive to. Why not recreate Justin Bieber’s “Sorry” music video with your character as a parody of the pop star herself?

How do you use your social media platforms? By sharing your journey, promoting positive causes, and interacting with your fans, you can show them that you’re more than just a character. They’ll appreciate your honesty and growth. Just be careful not to trivialize the issues at hand. And don’t overuse hashtags.

Remember, the '90s may be making a comeback in fashion, but your career can evolve with the times.

Defibrillating careers on a daily basis,

Remy

Should I sell my studio?

Dear Rémy,

As the heir to a media empire built by a man of traditional views, I find myself at a crossroads. The company is languishing in this declining traditional media landscape. As a result, we have had to make a lot of layoffs and I have cancelled my Louboutin subscription.

This month we were on the verge of selling the business. But, at the last minute, I decided to withdraw from the case. This decision led to a further decline in our stock price, and the blame fell entirely on me.

My philosophy is simple: if potential buyers could streamline and rejuvenate our family business, why not me? Nonetheless, the narrative turned against me suggests that my decision was motivated by a personal vendetta against the buyer, who, coincidentally, is the son of a rival billionaire. (I have nothing against him Rémy, I swear we were even in the same improv league at university.)

Now I have to ask myself: had I really made a strategic business decision, or was I just afraid of losing my power and status? I recently had a small gym installed in my New York penthouse for my slightly overweight Bichon Frize. The little step machine is adorable but I can't imagine taking it to Aspen without the company jet.

Did I make a smart decision in maintaining my family icon status, believing in my ability to turn things around, or am I just too attached to let go?

Sincerely,

An heir without graces

Dear heir without graces,

Thank you for your frank and entertaining note. Your situation is a complex mix of business strategy, family heritage, and perhaps a touch of personal rivalry.

First, it’s essential to determine whether your decisions are driven by a clear vision for the future of your business or whether they are clouded by family attachment. Having a powerful but controversial father can be both a blessing and a curse, as films like The Godfather, Star Wars And The Lion King show us.

Evaluate potential buyers' plans to reduce costs. Remember that sometimes an outsider's perspective can provide valuable insight, but so can a leader who is deeply connected to the company's history. You know where the bodies are buried and where the soundtracks to all your most questionable TV offerings are archived.

If the offer had come from an anonymous entity rather than a rival, would your decision have been the same? This potential personal bias needs to be recognized to ensure you are making the best decision for the company.

It is also important to consider the interests of all stakeholders, including employees, shareholders and your own family. Have they expressed their views or are they quietly knitting voodoo dolls in your image?

Balancing the weight of family loyalty with the harsh realities of modern business is no easy task. Remember, the best decision will ultimately align with your strategic vision and personal values.

Good luck in your high-flying projects,

Remy

Jealousy ruins my writing

Dear Rémy,

I never thought I'd one day find myself writing to an advice columnist, but here I am: dealing with a green-eyed monster who follows me everywhere.

I'm an acclaimed screenwriter who's had such palpable success that I've set aside a room in my house just for my trophies (with very clear instructions for my maid on how to polish them).

And yet, I am consumed by jealousy. Every time I see an actor on screen deliver a particularly sharp line or pull off a powerful scene that I wrote, I wish it was me. They have the spotlight, the adoration and the most luxurious trailers on the board. In my last film, the production management even forgot to provide me with a trailer. I had to work on an overturned refrigerator that the catering department was throwing away until a small changing room was available.

I am invisible to the audience who enjoy the stories I create. But that’s not all. I also envy the emotional experience that actors have. They open up, express a range of intense feelings, and use their roles as a form of therapy. Recently, I wrote a character who was half-man, half-devil and lived in a dungeon. He literally spewed bile and could turn day into night with his bitter speeches. I wrote him while I was going through my divorce, and I now realize that he was the embodiment of my feelings toward my ex-wife. When I saw the actor who played him vomit and get angry on screen, I felt like my own catharsis had been stolen.

Remy, I am consumed by this jealousy. I'm afraid that if I don't seek help, I'll become that devil I talked about: I'll growl and writhe in front of the world. Do you have any tips for dealing with supreme jealousy?

Sincerely,

Final version of Fantasist

Dear Final Draft fan,

Oh, the trials of being the puppeteer in a world where puppets get all the applause.

First, let's recognize that it's completely normal for you to feel jealous when others receive glory for your hard work. You are human, after all. But maybe there are ways to turn that green-eyed monster into a muse before you get fired up in a script meeting.

Have you ever thought about celebrating your actors' achievements as an extension of your own success? Without your brilliant scripts, these performances would not exist. Your words are the foundation of their artistry. Spending time on set, talking to them about their interpretations of your characters, and sharing their process can create a deeper connection to the performance and can give you a taste of that emotional journey you've been craving. Just choose your time wisely, there's nothing worse than disturbing a star during their morning affirmations, or even their ablutions.

As for your own emotional catharsis, writing is powerful, but it often lacks the immediate emotional release that performance provides. What other avenues could you explore to process your emotions? Have you considered taking acting classes, joining a local theater group, or even participating in spoken word performances? Maybe your recent breakup could be the subject of your first article. (but perhaps check with your divorce lawyer first to make sure there is nothing in your verses that could be considered defamatory).

The spotlight may be on the actors, but the entire project wouldn't exist without the luminescence provided by your scripts.

Yours in all narrative solidarity,

Remy

Remy Blumenfeld is a seasoned television producer and the founder of Vitality Guru, which provides career and professional coaching to top-performing professionals in the media industry. Send your questions to: [email protected].

Questions edited by Sarah Mills.

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