At 62, Jodie Foster, the two-time Academy Award winner and Hollywood icon, sits comfortably in her Beverly Hills home, a sprawling estate that whispers of her $100 million net worth. From this vantage point—metaphorically dubbed her “Hollywood glass palace”—Foster reflects on a six-decade career that began when she was just three years old. Her latest comments, made during a candid interview at the 2025 Cannes Film Festival, have sparked a firestorm of discussion about the state of acting, the motivations of young actors, and the privilege of choice in an industry that’s both glamorous and grueling. “If I never acted again, I wouldn’t really care,” she told Variety, a statement that underscores her detachment from the craft that made her a household name and highlights a growing divide between Hollywood’s elite and its aspiring stars.

A Storied Career Built on Selectivity

Foster’s journey began in the 1960s as a child model, transitioning to roles in Disney films like Freaky Friday (1976) and Candleshoe (1977). Her breakout came at 14 with Martin Scorsese’s Taxi Driver (1976), where her portrayal of a teenage prostitute earned her an Oscar nomination. By 18, she had over 40 film and TV credits, a resume that would be the envy of most actors today. Her two Best Actress Oscars—for The Accused (1988) and The Silence of the Lambs (1991)—cemented her as a titan of the industry. Yet, Foster’s approach has always been deliberate. “I’m all about developing a character who propels the story,” she said of her latest role in the French thriller Vie Privée, which premiered at Cannes. “It has to really speak to me.”

This selectivity is a luxury few can afford, and Foster acknowledges it. “When I was a kid, I worked so much that by the time I was 18, I needed to take a different approach,” she explained. Unlike many young actors today, who she observes “just want to act” regardless of the project’s quality, Foster prioritizes narrative over paycheck. “They don’t care if the movie’s bad. They don’t care if the dialogue is bad. They don’t care if they’re a grape in a Fruit of the Loom ad,” she remarked, a comment that has drawn both admiration and criticism.

The Privilege of Choice

Foster’s $100 million fortune, amassed through acting, directing, and producing, affords her the freedom to be choosy. Her Beverly Hills home, purchased for $11.75 million in 2012, is a testament to her financial security, a far cry from the paycheck-to-paycheck reality of many aspiring actors. “I really like to be a vessel for story or cinema,” she said. “If I could do something else, if I was a writer or a painter or sculptor, that would be good too. But this is the only skill I have.” This detachment from acting as a necessity sets her apart from the younger generation, who often see the craft as a lifeline rather than an artistic pursuit.

The reaction on platforms like X has been polarized. One user posted, “Jodie Foster saying she wouldn’t care if she never acted again is peak privilege. Most actors can’t afford to be that picky.” Another countered, “She’s earned the right to choose. Young actors should take note—quality over quantity.” Foster herself seems aware of the disconnect. “I’m not saying I’m jealous,” she clarified, emphasizing that her confusion stems from a difference in priorities, not a judgment of character.

Mentoring the Next Generation

Despite her critique, Foster is not dismissive of young actors. She has actively reached out to stars like Bella Ramsey, offering guidance drawn from her own challenging upbringing in the spotlight. “They need to learn how to relax, how to not think about it so much, how to come up with something that’s theirs,” she said. Her own experience—navigating fame, a traumatic stalking incident in 1981, and public scrutiny over her sexuality—has made her empathetic to the pressures of young performers. “It was hard growing up,” she admitted, recalling the emotional toll of being a child star.

Foster’s mentorship extends beyond advice. She sees herself as a maternal figure to those who, like her, entered the industry young. “I find myself reaching out to girls who could be my daughters,” she told Elle in 2023, emphasizing the importance of emotional survival over career ambition. Her own mother, Brandy, was a guiding force, albeit a complex one, shaping Foster’s career while fostering a love for storytelling through exposure to French and German cinema. This foundation informs Foster’s belief that acting should serve a story, not just a paycheck.

A Shift in Hollywood’s Landscape

Foster’s comments also reflect a broader shift in Hollywood. The rise of social media and influencer culture has changed how casting decisions are made, with some arguing that follower counts now outweigh talent. “These days, maybe all casting decisions for young actors are based on followers,” one X user speculated, a sentiment echoed in online forums. Foster, who famously avoids social media—“I don’t care about what some guy in his pajamas thinks about what I should do with my life”—represents an older guard that values craft over clout.

Her peers, like Nicole Kidman, have also weighed in on the changing industry. Foster praised Kidman’s commitment to working with female directors, banging the couch in excitement during her Variety interview. Yet, she contrasts this with the frenetic pace of some actors’ careers, noting that constant work doesn’t always equate to quality. “She’s always working!” Foster exclaimed, a mix of admiration and bemusement.

Criticism and Context

Not everyone has embraced Foster’s perspective. Some critics argue she’s out of touch, insulated by her wealth and status. “It’s slightly infuriating,” one Reddit user wrote. “If you desperately needed to pay rent, you could learn to work a minimum wage job real quick. The rest of us aren’t doing crappy jobs because we’re good at it.” Others defend her, pointing out that her career was built on taking risks with roles like Clarice Starling, not chasing fame. “She’s just vocalizing what I’ve noticed,” another user commented. “People now act because they want to be rich and famous. The era of believing movies are art is basically dead.”

Foster’s supporters highlight her Yale degree and fluency in French as evidence of her intellectual depth, suggesting her standards for herself are exceptionally high. “When you can do something that well, the idea of doing something else probably doesn’t compute,” a Reddit commenter noted. Her recent roles, like the swim coach in Nyad (2023) and detective Liz Danvers in True Detective: Night Country, show she’s still active, but on her terms.

A Legacy of Art Over Ambition

Foster’s ambivalence about acting isn’t new. “I didn’t become an actor because I’m this vulnerable person who wants to feel all the time,” she told The New York Times in 2021. “I’m not that person.” Her directorial work, including Money Monster (2016) and episodes of Orange Is the New Black, reflects her preference for storytelling over stardom. Her 2025 Radcliffe Medal from Harvard recognized her not just as an actor but as a filmmaker and advocate for LGBTQ youth, underscoring her multifaceted legacy.

From her Hollywood glass palace, Foster watches an industry in flux, one where young actors face pressures she never did—like the omnipresence of social media. Her wealth and accolades afford her the luxury of indifference, but her mentorship and selective projects show a commitment to the art she claims she could leave behind. “This is the only skill I have,” she said, a humble nod to a career that’s anything but ordinary. Whether young actors heed her advice or carve their own paths, Foster’s words remind us that in Hollywood, the privilege to choose is the ultimate currency.