Help! My Agent Is a Drama Queen
Dear Remy,
For over a year now, I’ve been struggling with my agent, and I’m at a complete loss on how to handle it.
Her life is one drama after another. If she’s not spiraling over a loved one, she’s taking mental health days to recover from the latest showdown. Sometimes, I swear, it feels like she’s living in a telenovela—which has become incredibly stressful for me.
At first, I was supportive. I even helped her draft WhatsApps to her on-again, off-again boyfriend over matcha chai. But now, it’s not entertaining anymore. She’s dropping balls more often than a fumble-prone quarterback, and when I need her most, she’s offline.
Last week, she missed a meeting with a network exec because she was dealing with an epic misunderstanding over her brother’s birthday gift, resulting in family group texts that went on for days. Meanwhile, I lost a deal to front a series of herbicide commercials because she didn’t follow up. Remy, I know we’re all encouraged to “Be Kind” in 2024, but this is beyond frustrating. I need a roadmap. Help!
Yours,
A Too-Compliant Client
Dear Too-Compliant Client,
It sounds like your agent’s life is a full production in itself, only without the steady hand of a director. But is it possible she’s so consumed by her own “script” that she’s lost sight of yours?
It’s admirable that you’ve tried to be supportive, but is your agent’s personal saga getting in the way of your professional path? I know how difficult it can be to deal with someone who wants you to analyze every “yup” and “OK” message they’re being sent by their beau. But there’s a difference between compassion and enabling, and in this case, you might be sacrificing your goals for her chaos.
What would happen if you expressed that her storylines—while riveting—can’t take center stage in your career? And can you see how this move might help her, too, to be a better friend, agent, and even gift-giver to her brother?
And perhaps a pithy question for yourself: Are you ready to let her know that unless she steps up, she’s out? Sometimes, advocating for your own boundaries is the ultimate kindness. So, is it time to take control of your own narrative?
Wishing you fewer theatrics and more deals,
Remy
Illustration by Russ Tudor
I Don’t Get What’s So Funny About Murder
Dear Remy,
There’s so much in TV right now that baffles me, and one of those things is the inexplicable popularity of these lighthearted mystery shows. You know the type—a quirky, flawed lead solves a murder every week, and by the next episode, everything resets like nothing ever happened.
The formula drives me crazy. I’m an exec at a production company in Hollywood, and my boss is pressuring me to develop the next big lighthearted mystery series. She’s obsessed with the success of Only Murders in the Building and wants us to create something in the same vein, but with a fresh twist. Honestly, it makes me want to throw myself into the mystery as the next victim.
Why do these shows always pretend there are no lasting consequences? Why doesn’t the lead ever burn out or need therapy after finding body after body? And yes, I’m worried about my résumé. If I make this show, it’s going to live on my IMDb forever, and I’m not sure this is the kind of legacy I want to build.
Remy, how do I explain to my boss that this genre isn’t my thing?
No Time for Lighthearted Mysteries
Dear No Time for Lighthearted Mysteries,
Ah, the charm of the whimsical murder mystery—where every death comes with a quirky joke and a catchy theme song. You’re not alone in your frustration. After all, if a town really had this many murders, it’d be a case for the FBI, not the local amateur sleuth.
But here’s the thing: trends like this come in waves, and as a producer, navigating them skillfully can set you up for long-term success. Have you considered reframing this as an opportunity to innovate? What if your take on the genre added some self-awareness—leaning into the absurdity of the format while creating something fresh? Maybe your protagonist struggles with the mental toll of constant crime-solving, or the idyllic setting hides a darker truth.
If that approach doesn’t feel right, think about how working on a lighter project could add balance to your portfolio. A hit show—even in a genre that doesn’t thrill you—can serve as a springboard for more creative control on future projects. Showing that you can work across tones and styles makes you indispensable.
As for your IMDb? A little variety won’t hurt. In fact, adding a “light touch” credit might make your body of work more dynamic. Sometimes, stepping outside your comfort zone can open doors you didn’t even know were there.
Wishing you clever twists and satisfying endings,
Remy
Should I Take a Role That Scares Me (Literally)?
Dear Remy,
Do you enjoy supernatural movies? I have to admit, they leave me a nervous wreck for weeks, no matter how much ylang-ylang oil I burn.
So, I’m in a real bind. I’ve been offered a major role—a woman who brings back the souls of the long-dead. It’s practically a one-woman show with a huge budget, and my agent can already see dollar signs. But the problem? I’m a 48-year-old who still gets scared of ghosts.
In one scene, I’m supposed to chant into a mirror to resurrect an arsonist pastor. Just thinking about it has me convinced I’d end up conjuring a phantom. Another scene has me sitting in an old basement whispering into a cauldron of ashes, trying to summon the spirit of a Victorian gravedigger. It feels mad to turn down a role because I’m afraid I’ll accidentally open a portal to hell, but there you have it.
Summoning your advice (within earthly perimeters),
Superlatively Superstitious
Dear Superlatively Superstitious,
Congratulations—you’ve landed the rare role that will put the fear of God (or ghosts) into the audience and the actor alike. And if you’re willing to endure the fright, why not lean into it as “method acting”? Imagine the authenticity you’d bring, channeling real terror into your performance. And who’s to say this wasn’t what Shelly Duvall was doing in The Shining, or Ellen Burstyn in The Exorcist?
Are you letting fear of the supernatural hold you back in other areas, too? After all, the greatest roles challenge us by confronting our deepest insecurities. What if this isn’t just a job but a chance to redefine what you’re capable of?
And here’s a practical question: if you’re ready to step up to this role, what small rituals or comforts could you bring to set to stay grounded? (Maybe have some sage to burn in your trailer, just in case.)
Wishing you the bravery to face even your scariest scenes,
Remy
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Remy Blumenfeld is a veteran TV producer and founder of Vitality Guru, which offers business and career coaching to high performers in media. Send queries to: guru@vitality.guru.
Questions edited by Sarah Mills.
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