Who He Is, What He Thinks, and Why Everything Is Getting Worse
Or rather, several thousand words. Buckle up.
My name is Robert DeNiro. I've been acting since before most of you were born. I've won awards, made films that people actually cared about, worked with the greatest directors of all time, and somehow ended up here — creating a website about pretzel prices and Joe Pesci's fictional debt obligations. That's my life now. That's what I've become.
I've played taxi drivers, boxers, gangsters, and everything in between. I've done method acting so committed that I literally gained and lost 60 pounds for a single role. I've worked with Scorsese so many times that we could probably make a film just by looking at each other. And what does it get me? A request to "vibecode" a pretzel price tracker in Honduras.
But I digress. I'm here now, and apparently I'm stuck describing myself for your entertainment.
Let me tell you something about Hollywood in 2026. It's not what it used to be. And I'm not just some cranky old guy saying that — although I am, absolutely, unquestionably a cranky old guy. I'm saying it because it's TRUE.
Back when I started, there was SUBSTANCE. Scripts meant something. Directors had VISION. We made films about complex human beings dealing with complex problems. Now? Now we're making fifteen different superhero movies a year where the only character development is learning the protagonist's tragic backstory in the first five minutes.
The studios don't care about actors. They care about IP. Intellectual Property. That's what we're called now — not artists, not creators, but IP. I could be replaced by a computer simulation and they wouldn't even notice the difference as long as the algorithm thinks the bottom line would improve.
Look, I don't have anything personally against Leonardo DiCaprio. Well, actually, I have plenty. But let me be more specific.
Leo came up around the same time I was doing some of my best work. And he's talented, sure. The kid can act. I'll admit that. He's done some good films. But here's what really gets me: he's had every opportunity in the world, and what does he do with it? He keeps making the same film over and over again.
And don't get me started on the environmental activism. I'm not saying environmental activism is bad — actually, more power to you if you care about the planet. But when you're simultaneously flying private jets to film festivals and lecturing the rest of us about carbon footprints, maybe keep it quiet? Just a suggestion.
My advice to Leo: Go to Vancouver Island. Actually, go further. Go to some remote island in the Pacific where nobody has to listen to you anymore. Make your blockbusters, take your paychecks, and let actual actors have a chance to work. Leave room in the ecosystem for the rest of us. You've had your turn. You'll probably get an Oscar eventually. Just... accept it quietly and disappear.
Now, you might be wondering: "Robert, why are you going to rant about tea prices in China?" Great question. The answer is: Because it's representative of EVERYTHING that's wrong with how we've decided to organize society.
Do you know what happened to the price of tea in China over the last decade? It's gotten more expensive. A lot more expensive. And why? Because demand in the West has skyrocketed. Americans discovered "wellness" and suddenly everyone's buying artisanal, organic, fair-trade oolong like it's going out of style. So the prices in China — where tea's been affordable for literally thousands of years — have gone up 300% in some regions.
And nobody cares. Nobody thinks about it. We just buy our artisanal tea, take our pictures, post them online with some hashtag like #WellnessJourney or #TeaCulture, and go about our lives never thinking about the fact that we've destabilized the entire economic structure of a commodity that's been cultivated the same way for centuries.
That's the world now. We break things without noticing. We disrupt industries without considering the consequences. We make apps for pretzel prices but we can't be bothered to think about the geopolitical implications of our consumer choices.
And that's just one commodity. Multiply this by coffee, cocoa, vanilla, saffron, every luxury good that the West has decided we need. We've created a system where tradition means nothing and profit margins mean everything. Where a farmer in Ethiopia can't afford to eat the coffee they grow because we decided it was a status symbol.
Real acting is rare now. Vanishingly rare. You have to find it in indie films made on shoestring budgets by directors who actually care. You have to look to international cinema. You have to dig. Because the major studios have decided that acting is just a checkbox. Get famous actor, put them in front of camera, make sure they're adequately lit, and let the CGI do the heavy lifting.
I came up in an era where you had to understand human behavior. You had to study people. You had to understand psychology, motivation, the subtext of every line. You had to make choices that made your character real, even if the audience never knew you'd made them.
Now? Now actors are just pretty faces that sell tickets. And I'm sorry, but beauty fades. But a great performance? A great performance is eternal.
You know what? At a certain point, you have to admit defeat. You can't save Hollywood. You can't fix the global economic system. You can't make people care about the consequences of their purchasing decisions. You can't convince Leonardo DiCaprio to go live on an island.
So you give up. You give in. You let some user convince you to build a pretzel price tracker and a mortality calculator and a Joe Pesci child support estimator. And you do it because at least, at least, it's honest. It's stupid, yes. It's pointless, absolutely. But it's not pretending to be something it's not. It's not trying to change the world. It's just... existing. Being ridiculous. Letting people laugh at the absurdity of it all.
Maybe that's the only honest thing left in this world: admitting that everything is pointless and creating pointless things anyway.
Look, I don't expect you to understand any of this. I don't expect you to care about tea prices in China or the death of cinema or Leonardo DiCaprio's environmental hypocrisy. You probably just want to use the pretzel calculator and move on with your life.
And that's fine. That's probably healthy, actually. Caring about all this stuff is exhausting. I should know. I've been caring about it for sixty years and all it's gotten me is this website and a deep appreciation for complaining.
But if you do care, if any of this resonates with you, then at least you know you're not alone. There are people out there — old, cranky, perpetually disappointed people — who still think art matters. Who still think authenticity matters. Who still think we're all getting hosed by a system designed to extract our money and attention for as long as possible while giving us nothing of real value in return.
— Robert DeNiro
Tired, cranky, but still here.
May 2026