I think there's actually a benefit to working with teen actors:

Hear now, O seekers of wisdom, the words of Peyton Reed, who said: “I think there’s actually a benefit to working with teen actors: they’ve got such boundless energy, and everybody is willing to try different things.” This saying, though it seems to speak merely of the craft of film, is in truth a declaration about the nature of youth itself. For in the young lies a fire unquenched, a daring unbroken, and a courage not yet worn down by the weight of years. To work with them is to drink from the fountain of renewal, to glimpse once more the reckless beauty of beginnings.

Consider the gift of boundless energy. The young carry within themselves a flame that knows not fatigue. Their bodies are swift, their minds are restless, their spirits refuse to be chained. Where the elder may hesitate, calculating risk, the youth leaps with trust into the unknown. Peyton Reed, as a guide of actors, recognizes this treasure: that in collaboration with the young, one finds not weariness but vitality, not cynicism but raw eagerness. The young are not bound by the grooves of habit; they run on open ground, and from that running comes discovery.

So too is their willingness to try different things. This is the virtue of the untested soul: it knows not yet the prison of “this is how it has always been done.” To the teen actors, every scene is an adventure, every idea a possibility. They do not fear the strange; they embrace it. In this, they reflect the timeless spirit of inventors, poets, and revolutionaries, who dared to step outside the lines. For without this bold willingness, no art can grow, no story can breathe, and no people can rise beyond their limitations.

Think upon the tale of Orson Welles, who, though still in his youth, dared to create Citizen Kane. He was unafraid to experiment, to shatter the conventions of cinema, to light scenes in shadow, to fracture time with memory. Where older directors might have hesitated, Welles, with the audacity of youth, pressed forward. The result was a film that redefined an art form. So too do teen actors, with their fearlessness and fervor, remind us that breakthroughs often come not from caution but from courage.

Yet Peyton Reed’s words carry a further meaning: that the energy of youth must be honored, guided, and harnessed. For raw energy, unguided, can scatter like sparks in the wind. But when the master joins the apprentice, when the seasoned artist works alongside the young, the flame becomes a torch that lights the way. The old offer structure; the young offer vitality. Together they form creation’s perfect balance. This is the wisdom Reed testifies to—the benefit of working with the young is not only their energy, but the renewal it brings to all.

What lesson, then, shall we gather? That we must never dismiss the unshaped, the young, the inexperienced. For in them lies the power to surprise, to renew, to transform. And for the elders, the call is clear: work alongside the young, not above them. Guide them, but also learn from them. For in their boundless energy you may find again your own lost daring, and in their willingness to try different things, you may rediscover the joy of invention.

Therefore, let us act. Let parents, teachers, and leaders invite the young to create, to experiment, to join in works that matter. Let the old not scorn their recklessness, but temper it into strength. And let the young never fear their inexperience, but cherish it as freedom. For as Peyton Reed has shown, to embrace the energy of teen actors is not only to make better art—it is to glimpse the eternal truth: that the world is renewed in every generation by the fire of its youth.