Once there was a time I considered Mischa Barton and Lindsay Lohan to be fine actresses. Barton has this whole weird-body thing going for her, plus the fact that she always seems depressed and lonely. She has some limits to her acting because of this, but somehow she’s able to mesmerize me. I have to admit, the only reason I watched “The O.C.” was because she was in it. When they killed-off her character, the sickly-bad show became dead to me!

Lindsay Lohan is a different story. Whatever she does, the acting stays believable. I wouldn’t call her traditionally beautiful — like Audrey Hepburn or Elizabeth Taylor — but she still has some attraction to her that makes her irresistible. The whole freckles-thing also attributes to that. I mean, my god, her whole body is covered with them!

Both ladies destroyed their careers by making bad decisions. Mischa Barton (or her agent) has been way too relaxed about her career — thinking it’ll all come to her, when that’s not the case. When you’re Cameron Diaz, Angelina Jolie or Jennifer Aniston, it is the case. They don’t have to work hard to land a role, because they’ve proven themselves. But when you’re Mischa Barton, formerly known as Marissa Cooper, you do.

Lindsay has a similar problem. Roles were thrown at her after Mean Girls at an alarming rate, and without a good agent/manager to filter them, she chose all the bad ones. Just My Luck, I Know Who Killed Me, Chapter 27? Girl, please, were those really necessary? I still think she was quite okay in all of them, especially in Bobby and A Prairie Home Companion (though that movie in general was a snoozer). But when you’re the only thing in the movie keeping the audience from brutally murdering the director, producers and screenwriters, believe me — something is wrong.

For both of them there are two simple solutions: first, hire a new agent and/or manager. One that knows what is best for you, one that is willing to die for you to get the best job available. You need a killer, but one that is hunting producers, not one that is hunting your money.

Secondly, have patience. If no good role is available, don’t force yourself into one that is mediocre just because you have to fund your extravagant lifestyle. Trust me, it’s not necessary to blow millions of dollars each year just because you feel you need to be everywhere to stay in the know. When you land a good role, act your ass off, and then later maybe get an Academy Award nomination for it — that is when the real money kicks in. $10-20 million per film, maybe even higher, maybe even (highly-inflated) Cameron Diaz-numbers. Just trust me, when you’re making that per deal, you can party all you want, hire a staff of sixty, buy the largest Malibu mansions. But you’ll have to be willing to wait for it.

Once there was a time when actors and actresses lived for the next great role, for the next big achievement. An Academy Award used to be an honor, instead of a goal. Money was important, but a crummy screenplay was not accepted, not even for all the money in the world (or a portion of it, at least). If Barton and Lohan can accept the fact that they need to be working towards great roles and big achievements, instead of towards acting for money, then maybe they’ll be able to rejuvenate their careers. Just maybe.