I'm pretty sure you've heard this, and I'm pretty sure you're sick of hearing this, but these days, you have to network colleagues, friends, family, classmates, prior employers, alma maters, etc. to get in the door. The power of Indeed and LinkedIn to connect you with employers has become compromised, as the pool of candidates has so exploded that although you may be "perfect" for a posted role, so are 1,000 other applicants. And that is not an exaggeration. So, to get through the noise, you have to differentiate yourself somehow to get attention, and networking provides that entree many a time. It's not optional; it is mandatory. Good luck.

Hard to believe these days, but Anthony Franciosa of "A Hatful of Rain" was part of the contingent of angry young man actors Hollywood imported from Broadway in the wake of James Dean. He got a Best Actor Oscar nomination for it and was neck in neck with Paul Newman for a while in major Hollywood productions. He had it all, seemed on the verge, but his wild private life and temper derailed his movie career by the early 1960s, and status lost, he moved on to less noteworthy productions and a lot of TV for the rest of his career. He said may years later that it was too much, too soon. A Hatful of Rain serves as a reminder of his potential.

It's been my experience that the better trained the data scientist - relevant education, appropriate tools, hands on skills, ability to learn - the more collaborative they are, because they are secure in their knowledge and discipline. Problems arise when there are major gaps in those areas, as insecurities and knowledge hoarding and CYA take root.

It's important to show horrible things like this to remind those who did not grow up in the Seventies that it was not all the Eagles, the Jackson Five, Stevie Wonder, Led Zeppelin and Linda Ronstadt, to name a few. We had to contend with this stuff as well, and yes, we all knew it was crappy even then. That said, Florence Henderson was actually a respected Broadway musical comedy star in the Fifties and Sixties, so this sort of thing was up her alley.

That I would stagnate. Thus far, though, I discovered interesting things to do, and although I freely admit that my former field has moved way past me now, it oddly doesn't bother me. Which justifies retirement that much more.

It's historically important as a rare star vehicle for Wong, far less impaired by censorship as it was made in Britain. She was coiffed and gowned and photographed like a star, not as a supporting player, and drips star quality. The plot is creaky, but the direction is good, and while Wong knew how to move, she was no dancer, as the plot insists, and that is a major difference between her and Louise Brooks, who trained as a dancer. Neither found favor in Hollywood after their European vehicles.

No. However, I trained under Mr. Spock, and he imparted some valuable lessons to me.

This is my guess after working many, many years: something materially changed at the company having nothing to do with you - a business setback, a lost client, a redirectioning of the business, a shift in the management team, a business unit being sold - and they elected to let you go as a result. When they hired you, whatever it was did not come up, but suddenly it did after you started there. The fact that they gave you a severance and other things after being there for such a brief time clues me into this.

Of course, I could be dead wrong, but having lived through this a few times, the abruptness after going to all the trouble of bringing you in suggests this. In my case, the first time it happened I was actually relocated for the role, so the shock of it completely overwhelmed me, but I got over it and moved on mentally. You will too.

In retrospect, Khambatta was the only addition to the much-discussed Star Trek: The Motion Picture that worked: she did seem to be something new, something exotic, something unique, separate from the cherished TOS crew. I do wonder whether later incarnations of ST heeded the lesson and created female characters like Seven of Nine and T'Pol in her wake.

Same director as The Great Ziegfeld (Robert Z. Leonard) but less ambitious, less lavish, but a lot more fun. It was a pivotal MGM showcase of its talent pool, and it proved to be Lana's big breakout role, helped Garland edge her away sans Mickey Rooney, and cemented Lamarr's goddess credentials. What more can anybody want?

In the analytics / data science world, so many come from places other than the US that it is not anything as much a "thing" to have a foreign sounding name. It is the norm. But many people with complicated/foreign sounding names have definitely Americanized their first names post-WW II, as human nature being what it is, employers subconsciously may assume that you do not speak "good" English and they need someone who can communicate clearly with clients. Coming from a foreign background myself, I cannot tell you how many Johns and Jacks with ethnic last names there were, and it bothered none of them - business is business.

You are looking for some sort of set, clear, definitive, absolute, inarguable reason why you are not making progress, raging against the machine like there is a conspiracy. The truth is that right now, there is a huge surplus of data scientists applying for every role that comes up. Many firms over-hired, fueling even more aspirants to pursue degrees and enter the marketplace, and it has come to a head. Firms suddenly let go of unimaginable thousands of data scientists and analysts, and the market simply cannot absorb them. There is talent galore with no place to go, and it looks like this will bleed into 2025. Many now defer jumping ship for fear of not landing.

So instead of looking for reasons, you have to keep pushing. And since most jobs come via some type of networking, yes you must network and network and network until you collapse. And then get up again and network and network and network. I'm sorry you jumped out of the frying plan into the fire, but it is a waste playing the blame game. Good luck.

We were all young once, and in her salad says, Vance went the femme fatale route on Broadway, never quite breaking through. She segued into character parts in the Forties, and toured and toured, and that's how she was "discovered" for her role in I Love Lucy, her femme fatale days long forgotten. Arden, of course, became one of the most recognized personalities in Hollywood in the Forties, adding sparks to every movie she made. And then, in the Fifties, they both landed at Desilu, Arden hitting it big with Our Miss Brooks, Vance in I Love Lucy, both winning Emmy Awards. That's showbiz.

It is the peak Von Sternberg/Dietrich collaboration, wildly entertaining, dripping in atmosphere, a classic, influential, a box office winner as well as an Academy Award winner.

The Oomph Girl, giving plenty of it here.

Hitch loved a challenge, and the single boat set of Lifeboat provided him one. They assembled a topnotch bunch of character actors to bring it to life, led by Bankhead, who understood how to sparkle on a single stage with all her years on Broadway, and she brought that knowhow with her. It was not a financial success, but the movie played frequently on TV over the years, so maintained a visibility other Hitchcock films did not. It did earn Hitchcock a Best Director nomination, one of four he earned in his career.

She did not start out as a classic Hollywood beauty, with her gamine looks and hair, as well as a charming awkwardness mitigated by a dancer's grace. But as she aged, she became stunningly sleek and lovely, the reverse of so many a Hollywood star. As the Fifties edged into the Sixties, serenity set in, and it was very becoming on her.

She won a Tony Award for it, as did Patsy Kelly. There are clips of the show on YouTube that give you an idea how much fun it was.

Sometimes, they have a conception for the role, and you are it.

Sometimes they have a conception for the role, and you are not it.

Your skills sets and experience brought you to the table, but don't clinch the deal. Do enough interviews, and you begin to sense within minutes whether the interviewer likes you, dislikes you, is interested, is not interested, is engaged, is not engaged, is intrigued, is not intrigued, is impressed, is not impressed, is a jerk, is not a jerk, etc. You reply to each accordingly and play the game as best you can.

I wish we could stamp out these "enhanced" portraits designed to make people look more perfect, but somehow making them less perfect by making them look fake.

Pippin in the early 70s, because it was the first show I ever saw, got the cast album as a gift and listened to it to death, and years later, "Corner of the Sky" (in a sheet music book highlighting songs for Broadway male singers) was the first song I ever was able to sing acceptably well in a voice class.

Billy Wilder revered Lubitsch and frequently referenced him. He helped write the screenplay of Ninotchka years before he became a writer/director. The "Lubitsch touch" was a term minted in the 1920s, and while hotly debated as to what that actually was, it encompassed a unique approach to a scene, an ability to bring out a detail that would have eluded others, and making the audience privy to it, as if they were co-conspirators.

What I love about him, among other things, was his ability to get usually heavy drama-laden actresses to give lighter than air performances that they rarely ever gave for anyone else, including Kay Francis, Jeannette MacDonald, Miriam Hopkins, Greta Garbo, Margaret Sullivan, Carole Lombard, Gene Tierney and Jennifer Jones.

People like Tina Turner and Joan Rivers were frequently called "the hardest working woman in showbiz", but I think the appellation applies to Debbie Reynolds, who seemed indefatigable from her teenage years to her 80s. She just never gave up, pushing her way from success to disaster to success to disaster in every medium from film to TV to records to stage to Vegas to charity to books to saving Hollywood memorabilia. I was never a fan TBH - there was a kind of artificiality that clung to her - but I have to give her credit for hanging in there. She was good in Mother.

In a comparatively short spate of time the big male movie stars of the Thirties passed away - Tyrone Power (1958), Errol Flynn (1959), Clark Gable (1960) and Gary Cooper (1961). They all represented "classic" Hollywood when movie stars truly ruled, and when they left, I think the last vestiges of classic Hollywood went with them.

In the early 1970s, the show No, No Nanette was revived on Broadway. Ruby Keeler came out of retirement to join Helen Gallagher, Jack Gilford, Patsy Kelly and Bobby Van, and it had more tap dancing than had been seen on Broadway in many a day. To many people's surprise, it turned into a big hit, and ran a long time. Busby Berkeley's name was prominently featured as supervising the production, but in actuality did very little except lend his name as he was in no state to physically or creatively do much at that point. But his name did help tickets even then, while others actually did the directing and choreography.

She was sort of anointed, winning an Emmy the year before, then landing in the big hit Knocked Up. She was no ingenue, had been around the Hollywood block since her teenage years, had paid her dues, was ready, Hollywood wanted a new movie queen, and then she blew it, not out of ignorance but out of egomania. She did go the romcom route, and some of her films like 27 Dresses and Life as We Know It have had long lives on video and streaming. She has moved on, has calmed down, matured, but these old stories still haunt her. I believe Hollywood power people were simply annoyed that she bit the hand that fed her and use her as an object lesson for others.