Stockholm Syndrome might best describe your relationship with Acting Coach

How to tell if your relationship with your Acting Coach might best be described as Stockholm Syndrome.

There is a moment in every actor’s life when they realize their acting coach may be holding the keys to the cell.

You know you might be experiencing Stockholm Syndrome when your coach dispenses advice with monk-like certainty despite having never worked in film or television, and you find yourself nodding gratefully while quietly Googling their IMDb page under the table. “The camera will find your truth,” they say, having never been within fifty feet of one. You feel seen. You feel confused. You pay on time.

Another sign is the way their notes gradually replace your own instincts. If you begin a scene with a clear intention and end it apologizing for your “defensive energy,” the conditioning is underway. The coach insists the industry is broken, executives are shallow, casting directors are cowards—and yet somehow they are the only safe guide through the wreckage. The paradox tightens. You stay.

You may also notice a deep emotional loyalty. You defend them to working actors who suggest practical adjustments like “hit your mark” or “memorize your sides” and “don’t scream at the camera.” Those people are compromised. Your coach understands art. Besides, they once told you that you are “dangerous casting,” which felt important.

Finally, ask yourself where all this is leading. If the path forward involves endless inner excavation, moral superiority over employed actors, and another six-week intensive, the diagnosis becomes clear. The captor smiles warmly. You thank them for the insight.

To be fair, they did have a non-speaking featured role in EXCESS BAGGAGE (1997).