Martini Shot

The easy thing to say about anything new in show business is, “Never gonna work.” In the case of Quibi — Jeffrey Katzenberg and Meg Whitman’s short-form mobile streamer — plenty of people laughed, and they were right to. But did Quibi fail because it was a bad idea, or because it spent and promised too much? Even Rob Long’s TikTok algo now serves soapy microdramas. Quibi may not have ended up a punchline because it was wrong, but because — after three glasses of wine — it ordered the deluxe version of the future and forgot the return policy. Transcript here. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

As Rob Long sits in his small New York City apartment surrounded by things — hard copies of old scripts, four umbrellas — he feels lucky to have it all. And in an industry where even modest success feels like a lottery ticket, Rob asks us to pause and consider an annual plea: supporting My Friend’s Place, an organization that works tirelessly to turn the tide for unhoused youth in Los Angeles. For young people failed again and again by the adults in their lives, My Friend’s Place does life-changing work — and for far less than this industry would spend on a half-hour pilot (if those even still exist). Head to My Friend’s Place, Rob’s charity of choice, to help support youth experiencing homelessness. Transcript here. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Rob Long once walked into a packed table read for a Paramount show airing on CBS, only to learn that Paramount had announced it was buying the network that very morning. Suddenly every exec who feared for their job materialized, bringing tension, chaos, and definitely not enough doughnuts. It’s hard not to picture a similar scene at Warner Bros. right now as Netflix scrambles to outmaneuver Paramount. But while bosses barricade themselves in conference rooms and pray for synergies that never happen, creatives shouldn’t wait for rescue. In the worst possible moment to be in this business, the best move is the simplest one: make something. Go to YouTube, Instagram, wherever your work can live today. Because Hollywood isn’t coming to save you. You’re going to have to save yourself. Transcript here. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

When the axe swings in Hollywood today, there’s no cushy deal, no soft landing, no assistant guarding your Rolodex anymore like in the old days. You’re out — at least for the moment. But after the gate stops lifting for you, there is a way back in. And it’s the same one it’s always been: you keep moving. You take every meeting. You hustle. You become that person — popular, persistent, maybe pitching a terrible show — who stays alive in the business simply by refusing to vanish. Transcript here Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Bob Broder — legendary agent, executive and showrunner-whisperer — saw Hollywood for what it was: a sprawling mosaic of chaos, ego and opportunity. As Rob Long remembers of Broder, who first represented him in the Cheers years, and who recently died at 85, he “had a way of scanning for cracks and openings and opportunities.” Broder didn’t scream or throw phones; he won with poise, charm and a look that said he already knew how any potential deal was going to end. Broder led with kindness, foresight and the occasional killer shrug. A legend, and the last man in town to make “calm” look dangerous. Transcript here Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices