Friendship vs. Business: The Industry’s Oldest Trap

Let’s start with something simple. The British crews I worked with on Whispers of Redemption and The Silent Choice was nothing short of extraordinary. These are the people who remind you why you got into this business in the first place. Despite bad weather, tight schedules, and all the usual chaos of filmmaking, the team pulled through without a single ego-driven outburst or diva tantrum. No one stormed off because the oat milk wasn’t frothy enough (though I’m sure someone has somewhere). Instead, we had a shared focus, passion, and chemistry that made the entire experience feel like a professional family.

The pictures above are from the shoot days. That’s what a healthy, collaborative professional family looks like. When we come together to tell stories, it’s about the work, not about who’s standing in front of the camera or behind the scenes trying to make themselves the next Hollywood sensation.

Now, you might be thinking, “This all sounds lovely, but what about the industry at large?” And that’s where things get a bit more complicated.

We Are Not Our Jobs—But We Are Commodities

At its core, this is a business. A creative business, yes. But still a business. Writers write. Producers produce. Directors direct. If someone no longer fits the needs of a project, they’re replaced. If a working relationship turns toxic, it’s cut off. It’s not personal. It’s just how industries work.

That doesn’t mean you won’t meet great people along the way. You most certainly will. I’ve worked with incredible producers, directors, actors, and crew members who are not just talented but genuinely good people. And sometimes, if the chemistry is right, those people do become friends - but that’s the exception, not the rule.

This industry has a strange habit of mixing friendship with business. While it’s true that you meet some incredible people along the way—like those crew members I just mentioned—it can quickly become a problem when those relationships get muddled. The moment you blur the lines between professional and personal, you risk the inevitable: someone, somewhere, will turn the business into a personal vendetta, and suddenly, you’re in the middle of a drama that could be adapted into a Succession episode.

Once the personal stuff creeps in, things become much more complicated—and often, unprofessional. It’s a shame.

The People Who Get It—and the People Who Don’t

Guz Khan once said something in an interview that stuck with me: at the end of the day, the work is the work. He also says you can get sick off the idea of breaking into this industry with mates and that if you’re not careful, it will mentally, emotionally and literally bankrupt you. That doesn’t mean to say you can’t get along, grab a drink, and share a laugh. But if you let emotions run the show, things will unravel faster than you think.

The people who get it know when it’s time to move on. They don’t cling to the past. But then there are those who confuse access with entitlement. They’re the ones who, when things don’t go their way, act like rejected reality show contestants demanding a recount.

Toxicity in This Industry Has Had Its Time

For too long, this kind of toxic behaviour has been tolerated—ego-driven decisions, malicious gossip, exclusion, and bullying have all been far too common. And it’s not just the cast and crew—it’s the people working behind the scenes, too. I’ve heard countless stories of people being mistreated, from technicians to producers to the assistants who keep everything ticking over. It’s truly disheartening.

But I’m not just talking from my own experiences. I’m not pulling these ideas out of thin air. I’m fortunate enough to be mentored by industry professionals who have helped shape how I run AR Studios—the former Head of Production at Working Title, the former Marketing Director at Paramount UK, and BAFTA and Oscar-winning directors who understand the damage this toxicity can do. Their insight has been invaluable, and they’ve taught me how to play the long game, and play it well.

On that, AR Studios is growing fast—just 1.5 years in, and, with our capabilities, resources and experience, we’re already a force to be reckoned with on the indie front. But I’ve now realised that AR Studios also needs to focus on something bigger: ensuring those who engage in unprofessional behaviour, who undermine others, have no seat at the future table of storytelling. You see, we’re not in competition with our colleagues. We are here to help and support each other. We’re all here to do one thing: tell great stories. That’s our focus, and it’s one I’ll keep fighting for.

So, What’s Next?

Yes, AR Studios is a production company, and is still growing, but I believe the industry can and should be better. I don’t just think about what my production workplace is like, I think about what other sets are like too. Storytelling should be about creativity, collaboration, and professionalism—not egos, power struggles, childish cliques, and exclusionary behaviour, and it’s time to stop its infestation into the industry. That means working with unions, agents, funding bodies, our partners and charities.

More on that in the future. But for now? Keep building, keep moving forward.

And if you're thinking of starting a malicious whisper campaign, maybe think twice - your actions might already be speaking louder than you think.

Ranw Aso-Rashid
Founder/CEO
AR Studios