Picture this: a new era where social media sensations might just overshadow Hollywood's glittering spotlight forever. Is the time coming when influencers become too influential to bother with the traditional film and TV world?
Let me dive into this fascinating shift. Think back to Quinta Brunson, who kicked off her journey about ten years ago by sharing hilarious skits on Instagram. Fast-forward, and she's now steering Abbott Elementary through its fifth successful season on TV—a show that's all about celebrating the everyday heroes in education. Meanwhile, Benito Skinner exploded onto the scene with his spot-on celebrity parody videos on TikTok, which paved the way for him to star in and produce Hulu's Overcompensating, a series that cleverly satirizes over-the-top masculinity.
Hollywood has always stood as the pinnacle of fame, the ultimate achievement in showbiz. But with movie theaters and TV ratings taking a hit, and companies doling out huge sums to influencers for promotions, you have to wonder: are these digital giants even eyeing a Hollywood breakthrough anymore?
Lauren Palmer, a top talent manager at Palette Media, shares that 85 to 90 percent of her clients still dream of careers in mainstream entertainment like film and TV. Her colleague, Josh DeAngelis, Palette's co-founder and head of talent, points out that it really boils down to their original motivations. As he explains it, some creators treat digital platforms like a temporary gig—think of it as waiting tables at a restaurant to pay the bills—building up funds to chase that bigger Hollywood dream. Others, though, jump in purely for the cash and have zero interest in traditional stardom.
But here's where it gets controversial—could social media actually be the final destination, not just a launchpad? Take Max Zavidow, known online as @formerteenheartthrob, who crafts short films for Instagram and TikTok. Originally, his heart was set on stand-up comedy, but as his audience grew, he started seeing socials not as a stepping stone but as the main event. 'What if social media isn't merely a platform?' he muses. 'What if it's not just a springboard to other realms—what if it's the medium itself?' This mindset, he suggests, encourages us to ponder: What narratives shine brightest on these apps that simply wouldn't translate to a big-screen film or a scripted TV series? For beginners in this space, it's like realizing social media can tell intimate, bite-sized stories in ways that traditional media can't, thanks to its interactive, real-time nature.
Then there's Mo, aka @ThatDollMo, with a whopping 6 million followers across TikTok and Instagram, where she drops feminist comedy content weekly. She's deeply passionate about her work but harbors grander, more conventional goals. 'I adore creating here, but I want to expand,' she says. 'That's how the entertainment world evolves—it's the logical progression for influencers with massive followings to shift to broader platforms.'
And this is the part most people miss: Is there a genuine desire among these creators to make that leap? DeAngelis, overseeing 175 clients, notes that only a 'noticeably smaller portion' are willing to put in the grind it takes to infiltrate Hollywood. 'It's a humbling shift,' he elaborates, 'going from viral millions of views to just another hopeful face in a crowded casting session, praying to be chosen.' Creators must match the dedication of any seasoned actor—auditions, rehearsals, networking. Some are eager for that challenge, others prefer to stay in their digital comfort zone.
That said, successful influencers aren't exactly starting from scratch. Palmer contends that a huge following can act as a fast-track to opportunities. 'Think of it as using your online presence to become indispensable, cutting ahead in line,' she says. 'We're witnessing TikTok creators landing spots on shows like Abbott Elementary, and I wonder if they competed against established actors or other rising stars in auditions. What I do know is that their massive social media clout propelled them forward.'
Palmer and Mo both point to Dancing With the Stars as a prime example—a show that's adapted to embrace digital celebrities, valuing (and compensating) their online fame. As Mo puts it, 'Right now, with programs like Dancing With the Stars, the industry is finally acknowledging influencers' star power for celebrity status. And as time marches on, the larger your platform, the more it boosts your career prospects.'
Industry leaders might crave a piece of this influencer pie, but the real question is whether casting directors fully respect these online talents. DeAngelis predicts smoother sailing ahead, as social content solidifies its place as a standalone entertainment force.
Mo believes many creators will keep aspiring to classic Hollywood glory, but not in droves. 'It's not going to be the majority,' she observes. 'Icons like Britney Spears achieve legendary status that's irreplaceable. They stand as pioneers, whereas today's creators gain an edge through their pre-built audiences.'
Now, let's stir the pot a bit more: some might argue that influencers are just diluting Hollywood's quality, turning serious acting into a popularity contest. Others could counter that this democratizes fame, allowing fresh voices to shine without years of unpaid gigs. What do you think—is social media the future of entertainment, or should influencers stick to their feeds and leave the red carpets to the pros? Do you agree that viral fame trumps traditional training, or disagree vehemently? Drop your opinions in the comments and let's debate!
This piece was featured in the Oct. 15 edition of The Hollywood Reporter magazine. For more insider stories, subscribe here.
