If you had to sum up 2025 in the entertainment industry. It was a year that kept surprising and challenging people, both creatively and financially, but also emotionally. It was a year where it felt like just when you caught your breath, something else happened. There was another headline, another layoff, or another reminder that this industry that we love is deeply impacted by the world around it, whether we want it to be or. But rather than thinking about the doom and the gloom, I want to focus on what we can take from the year. Because as hard as 2025 was, I genuinely believe that it gave us clarity. And clarity, even when it’s uncomfortable, is extremely valuable. So today, we’re going to talk about a few of the major moments from the year that shook the industry, but also talk about what we could learn from them and why at least I am choosing to look towards 2026 with cautious optimism. The year started out with what, looking back now, was probably an omen for what the rest of the year would be like. In January, Southern California experienced devastating wildfires that tore through neighborhoods across LA and the surrounding counties. Thousands of structures were destroyed, entire communities were displaced, and the air quality was unsafe for days. And for many people in the entertainment industry — crew members, assistants, writers, performers — this wasn’t just a news story, it was their home. Studios shut down productions, talk shows went dark, award events were postponed. And there was an unprecedented fear that settled over the city. And for those of us who live and work in LA, it forced a deeper fear to come to the surface. What if the city changes in a way it can never recover from? LA has always been positioned as the entertainment center. It’s where people move to chase their Hollywood dreams. It’s where careers are built. And suddenly, it was literally on fire. But production didn’t disappear. They adapted. Projects relocated, stories kept being told from other places, other countries, other communities. And in that moment, it became undeniable that the industry had already outgrown the concept of just having a single geographic center. LA is still the heart of the entertainment industry. That hasn’t changed, but it’s no longer the whole body. Global stories are increasingly what audiences want, and productions are international. Creativity is decentralized, and as scary as that realization might be to some people, it’s also freaking. The world is bigger than just the LA bubble, or even larger, the America bubble. And that concept is not a loss, it’s an opportunity. It means there are more voices, more perspective, more ways for stories to exist beyond just one city or country’s limits. And it also means that if you’re not a huge fan of LA for whatever reason, you can still have a thriving industry career closer to wherever it is that you do love. As the year continued, the threat from the fires died out, which only made room for the threat of unemployment. Layoffs hit again, this year most notably at Warner over the summer, but also across the entire industry almost year-round. By now, layoffs have almost become background noise in the industry, which is pretty terrifying since every headline represents real people with rent, families, health insurance, and careers they worked for years to build. And the year made it painfully clear how unstable this industry can be even when you’re doing everything right. And yet it also highlighted something pretty essential, which is that your network could come out of so much more than your resume. The people who bounced back after layoffs and landed on their feet again had one thing in common. They had community. They had relationships. They had people who checked in, people who passed along job leads, people who reminded them that a layoff is not a reflection of their talent or their worth. And it provided them the encouragement to keep searching. Which is an important reminder to those who weren’t laid off to remember to keep in contact with their network and to foster those relationships and community because you never know when you may need it one day. And to also do the same and reach out to people who we know who have been affected so we can all do our part to help each other. Layoffs also reinforce the importance of not tying your entire identity or income to one studio or role or title. The beauty of this industry is that even in moments like this, it’s always moving. There are new platforms, new formats, new paths that we fully haven’t imagined yet, and especially compared to other industries, the side projects we do aren’t distractions or simply for fun, they’re part of our resumes and they’re proof that you’re more than a single job description. Even if you aren’t doing anything super polished or buttoned up, it shows a love and a passion for the industry that may help you find your way to the studio role or title that will be the most fulfilling for you. Then there was the moment that forced the entertainment and political worlds to collide in a major way. When Jimmy Kimmel Live was temporarily taken off the air and then reinstated, it wasn’t just a late night controversy. It was a reminder that we are not insulated from the political climate, no matter how much we might want to be. It can be tempting in this industry to just focus solely on the work and to believe that if we just put our heads down and create, that everything else will just be background noise. But that’s not how it works in real life. Politics are part of everyone’s life, whether they care to know what’s going on or not. In an industry like entertainment, any threat to free speech is a threat to storytelling. The Jimmy Kimmel situation wasn’t about agreeing with a specific joke or comment. It was about recognizing how easily voices can be challenged, limited, or silenced, especially when politics and power enter the conversation. And if we don’t pay attention, decisions get made for us. And once boundaries are set, hard to undo. For an industry built on expression, imagination, and questioning the world as it is, staying alert to attacks on free speech isn’t optional. It’s part of protecting our livelihoods and the stories we believe in. Something very important to take with us into 2026 is to remain informed and educated on what’s happening in your community, in the country, and in the world. Because as exhausting as it can be to keep up with the news, it’s worse to have it blindsided. The busy side of the industry has also continued to shift under our feet this year, with the biggest headline of all being Netflix’s move to acquire Warner. This was just another sign that nothing is really being done to slow down consolidation and streaming is absolutely the dominant force. And with that comes some ongoing anxiety about the future of movie theaters. Netflix’s leadership has made it clear that the company does not value the importance of the theatrical experience over the streaming one. And them acquiring a major studio like Warner could be enough to put already struggling theaters completely out of business. And there’s something deeply sad about imagining a world without movie theaters. We live in a time where screens demand constant attention, our phones are always vibrating, and the algorithms compete for every spare second we have. And real life connection is increasingly rare. But movie theaters offer something almost radical now, which is shared attention. A room full of people choosing to sit and watch and feel together without scrolling, without multitasking, just story and experience. Which is why theaters matter so much, not just for the industry, but for culture. They’re one of the last places where technology and humanity can meet in a very meaningful way. The future might be uncertain, but that’s exactly why supporting matters now. Because once something like that disappears, it doesn’t come back easily. It’s a reminder to all of us that can to get out and go to the theater while we’re still able to. And maybe that just might be enough to prove that they should stick around for good. Lastly, in most recent news, at the end of the year came a loss that forced reflection. The tragic death of Rob Reiner and his wife Michelle Singer-Ryne shook the industry deeply. Rob Reiner wasn’t just a legendary filmmaker, he was someone who understood that success comes with responsibility. Of course, his films shaped generations, but so did his activism. His advocacy for marriage equality, his work for a supportive education and civic engagement, and his willingness to use his voice beyond the screen. In the wake of his passing, it became impossible to not think about legacy. Not just the work that we leave behind, but the impact that we have while we’re still here. The way you treat people, the causes you support, the kind of influence you choose to wield. This industry often trains us to chase the next project, the next credit, the next win. But Rob Reiner’s life reminds us that meaning is found in more than just accolades. It’s found in contribution and in character. And though those of us who admire his work are sad he’s gone, his impact will continue to inspire us for many years to come. And so, when I look back on 2025, I don’t just see a hard year. I see a year that demanded awareness and resilience and growth. And as we move into 2026, no one knows what will happen or if it will be better or worse than last year. But we do know that there will always be something to learn, even in the hardest moments. And sometimes we have to go through hard things to get to the good things. But on a personal note, this episode feels especially meaningful for me because it’s my last one as a guest host on The Hollywood Makers. Being a part of these conversations has been an honor and gett
