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WHENEVER Bryce Dallas Howard teased her dad, the
actor and director Ron Howard, about how much actors are paid, he'd
say, "It's so that they can afford their therapist."
But decades after her father made it in Hollywood, Ms. Howard,
25, is making her own way in acting, and she's therapist-free. She
sees a life coach instead. Ms. Howard, who is on location filming
"Spider-Man 3," said her coach helps her navigate the
demands of show business on her own terms, including making time
for writing and protecting a degree of privacy during press interviews
without losing her cool.
"It's not about rehashing the past," said Ms. Howard,
who said she's "really into self-improvement." She called
Sherri Ziff Lester, her coach, after a manager friend passed on
her name last year.
"With Sherri," she said, "it's, 'Let's talk about
this week.' She asks me a series of questions so that I see my priorities
and decide what I need to do."
Life coaching has become a staple on television, with coaches helping
sort out the lives of single men, ugly ducklings, sexually unsatisfied
wives and other women in shows like "Nip/Tuck," "The
Swan," "Starting Over" and "Modern Men."
Life coaches, with their vague self-helpish title, have also come
in for considerable skepticism and ribbing. "The Daily Show
With Jon Stewart" just this week devoted a sketch to poking
fun at the coaching and "coachees" who become coaches
themselves.
But behind the scenes life coaches are also finding plenty of work
in the entertainment business. As their ranks swell nationwide —
the International Coach Federation says its membership has doubled
to 9,500 personal and business coaches since 2001, 56 percent of
them in the United States — a growing roster is specializing
in celebrities and Hollywood.
Although the federation does not keep track of coach specialties,
coaches who devote themselves to the entertainment business —
many of them former actors, television network executives, film
producers or scriptwriters who sell their services as insiders —
say they have seen more acceptance and a doubling and even tripling
of demand for their services in the last three or four years.
Life coaches, who are unregulated and vary widely in their training
and credentials, say they help clients define and pursue career
and personal goals. The action- and results-oriented approach, they
add, is appealing in a business where so much seems left to chance
and few are prepared for success when it happens.
In a profession with a propensity for coaching — the acting
coach, the voice coach, the writing coach — there appears
to be room for one more coach, the one in charge of happiness, not
to be confused with the old-school therapist.
"The difference between life coaching and therapy is that
psychotherapy is about helping people heal their wounds," said
Phil Towle, a psychotherapist and life coach, "and coaching
is about helping people achieve the highest level of their fulfillment
or happiness or success, whether they're wounded or not." Mr.
Towle's work (at the rate of $40,000 a month) with quarreling members
of the band Metallica was chronicled in the 2004 documentary "Metallica:
Some Kind of Monster."
Performers, directors, writers and others can now find workshops
and programs with names like Center Your Celebrity and War and Peace
in the Writers' Room, and they can find certificates for free coaching
sessions in gift bags at events like the Oscars and the Video Music
Awards.
Coaches say personnel officials at studios and production companies
are also increasingly calling on them not just to groom executives
in management skills (the traditional use of executive coaching
in major corporations), but also to troubleshoot in situations like
helping a young producer handle personality and power clashes on
a production.
Scott Zakarin, 42, a film and television producer who most recently
produced the reality series "Kill Reality" on E! and "The
Scorned," the movie spawned by the show, credits his coach
with saving his company. He said he turned to a life coach, David
Brownstein, a few years ago because of confrontations and finger
pointing in his production company and now has Mr. Brownstein on
call as he strives to run his business without subsuming what he
calls the visionary nature of his work.
Mr. Zakarin, who said he knew Mr. Brownstein when the coach was
a film producer himself, said friends who have formed their own
production companies have their own life coaches to deal with similar
problems.
"Once they have their offices feng shui'd, coaching seems
to be the next thing," he said.
Penelope Brackett, a career and life coach in New Jersey, said
she was virtually alone when she started coaching performers in
theater, television and film in New York in the early 1990's. In
the last two years, she said, even drama schools have embraced the
concept of "getting a life and not just building a career or
devoting yourself to craft excellence."
A former actor, director and producer who last year published "Seven
Keys to Success Without Struggle," a life-coaching book for
performers, written with Lester Thomas Shane, Ms. Brackett said
she is regularly asked to give seminars at universities like Brandeis
and Rutgers.
Life coaches, who work in person or by phone and whose rates usually
start at over $100 a session, partly credit the increased demand
for their services to decentralized and scattered families: the
life coach, some say, takes the place of the mother, father or some
other elder, who gave counsel through life's decisions and conflicts.
That many people have more than one career and are searching for
pursuits with more meaning also plays a role, they say.
In Hollywood coaches deal with short-term goals like easing writer's
block so that a script gets finished as well as more encompasing
challenges like hardening up-and-comers to take rejection or keeping
those who make it from losing their heads in celebrity.
"Being famous is not what it looks like on E!" said Ms.
Ziff Lester, a former writer on television shows like "Beverly
Hills 90210" and "Baywatch." "It hits you like
a tidal wave, and unless you can navigate that ocean, you will drown."
Carmit Maile, 31, the redheaded member of the Pussycat Dolls sextet,
who recently changed her name from Carmit Bachar, said she started
telephone sessions with Ms. Ziff Lester last July to keep her focused
on what she wants to accomplish. The Dolls debut album, "PCD,"
went platinum, and just last week they embarked on a national tour,
opening for the Black Eyed Peas.
Ms. Maile, who said she found a certificate for Ms. Ziff Lester's
services in a gift bag given to performers at a concert last year,
added that she does not want success to keep her from working with
children with cleft lip and palate.
Ms. Maile, who had surgery for cleft palate, said she endured rejection
in show business and wants to be a role model for girls like her
who are not picture perfect. "My worry is to get lost in the
shuffle of superstardom and not make an impact as a human being,"
she said, calling her coach a facilitator to help her stay the course.
"There's so much that goes on that it's easy to lose your grounding."
Success can bring just as much soul searching behind the camera.
Jeff Davis, 30, the creator and an executive producer of "Criminal
Minds," a drama on CBS, went to a coach as he was trying to
cope, he said, with "the struggles of political fights and
wrangling of egos" that he found when his show went on television.
"I found myself going from writing scripts in a coffee shop
one day to producing a television show in the blink of an eye,"
he said.
He described the difference as "working with 100 people, finding
myself swamped with questions and having to become a leader when
you've hardly been doing it on your own." Mr. Davis, who said
he was referred to his coach, Mr. Brownstein, by his studio, added,
"I never had so many meetings in my life."
Through coaching sessions twice a month, Mr. Davis got in touch,
he said, with "my inner killer" and learned when to summon
it and when to be nice.
He said he also realized he wanted to create another show, for
which he said he is about to write the pilot.
The results, he said, have won him over to life coaching, despite
his initial skepticism.
"The entertainment industry can certainly use some help, considering
the number of lunatics who work in it," Mr. Davis added. "It's
literally like having a personal trainer. A life coach's job is
to push you."
But critics see life coaches as the ultimate overindulgence.
"This is for people with too much money," said Jon Winokur,
a Los Angeles writer who included the term life coach in his Encyclopedia
Neurotica, a 2005 volume of "tics, twitches and safety-valve
nuttiness," which also includes entries like "retail therapy."
"You can find a market or a constituency for all kinds of
insanity here," Mr. Winokur said.
The American Psychotherapy Association does not have an official
position on coaches, but Kelly Snider, speaking for the association,
said "coaches need to be responsible for recognizing if there's
a problem that must be dealt with by someone in the field of psychology."
The International Coach Federation acknowledges that only a fraction
of its members have gone through its certification process, which
requires specific training and exams, because coaching has become
more formalized only in the last decade or so. It urges consumers
to shop around for those specifically trained in coaching skills.
Those who pay for life coaches, sometimes at a financial sacrifice,
say they need the supportive kick in the pants.
"Life coaching has organized me and helped me do stuff more
strategically," said Ari Shine, 30, a singer and songwriter
who sees T. C. Conroy, a Hollywood coach who draws on her experience
in the music business, including work with bands as a production
coordinator. She is the former wife of Dave Gahan of the British
band Depeche Mode.
Ms. Conroy's session with Mr. Shine on a recent Thursday took the
form of brainstorming over the best booking agent for him. During
another session, with Nancy Noever, a production manager for television
commercials in her 40's who is trying to sell her first television
script, the coaching blurred the professional with the personal.
"Weight is never where I want it to be, financial is never
where I want it to be, time management is never what I want it to
be," Ms. Noever said, as she sat on a sofa sipping from a water
bottle across from Ms. Conroy, who took notes on a clipboard. "I
have to figure out why can't I put myself first."
"Why you haven't put yourself first," Ms. Conroy corrected,
noting she could do it.
Ms. Noever plotted ways to pay attention to her priorities —
finishing the last 15 pages of her script, starting to lose 25 pounds,
getting rid of her debt — with the expectation of not doing
it perfectly the first time, as long as she set things in motion.
"I'm much more important than a McDonald's commercial,"
she said, her confidence renewed.
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Reprinted from The New York Times.
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