Dear Ben Affleck,

So it's been a rough year. Girl problems. Work problems. Goatee problems.

Buck up, ya big poufy-haired lug! It may look hopeless now, but your career hasn't yet plunged into Jared Leto-ville. You're not waiting for a callback forBeethoven's 5th. Hardly anyone calls you "Casey Affleck's big brother."Paycheck? Don't worry—nobody saw it!Gigli? In theaters an hour and a half. And you're not the first fiancé to eat a $1.2 million pink-diamond engagement ring and a $350,000 Bentley. Tell it to David Gest, brother!

But the truth hurts: People are starting to not like you, Ben. You're polling lower than Dennis Kucinich. You're too chatty, too tan, too everywhere. The other night, we found you onAccess Hollywood,Entertainment Tonight, E!, MTV, Animal Planet and the Jakarta Cricket Channel. You're so overexposed, you could walk into the White House with Iraqi WMD's under one arm and Osama bin Laden under the other and the public reaction would be:Not another friggin' Ben Affleck story. By the way, the Mars rover says they're sick of you up there, too (and they hatedDaredevil).

We're frustrated because we know you have more to offer, Ben. You've done some good films—Chasing Amy, Shakespeare in Love, Changing Lanes... Pearl Harbor (just seeing if you're still paying attention, bro!). You've got that Oscar forGood Will Hunting. You can be shrewd and funny; you made the unwatchable _Project Greenlight _semiwatchable, and your quotes practically stole Peter Biskind's best-selling book,Down and Dirty Pictures: Miramax, Sundance and the Rise of the Independent Film. (At leastyou didn't kiss Harvey's big ass. And comparing yourself and Matt Damon toSaturday Night Live's Ambiguously Gay Duo—v. rich!) You _can _be likeable and real; you're not one of those capital-A actor types like Russell Crowe, who is probably still droning on somewhere about how he learned the violin forMaster and Commander.

So it's time to get the Affleck act together. Before Byron Allen starts calling—and you answer. Before you're phoning Alec Baldwin for advice ("Kid, dump the Tom Clancy movies—they're never gonna make any money!"). Take our instructions, cut them out, stick them to the Sub-Zero in the Ben-chelor pad and read them every day before your private step aerobics-karate-Tai Chi class.

1. Go Away

Get out of Hollywood. Go someplace quiet and uninteresting. No, not the new John Sayles movie. Stay out of cinema, period. Go someplace the paparazzi won't dream of going. No, not Chris O'Donnell's house. Find someplace where you can think. And then, when you think of a reason you madeReindeer Games, keep thinking. Hard.

2. Shut the Hell Up

Kind of goes hand in hand with no. 1, but we want to make sure. Ben, you like to talk more than a bathroom full of I-bankers on a Friday night. So no more jibber-jabbering on Jay Leno, Conan O'Brien, Pat O'Brien, _Celebrity Poker Showdown _orDinner for Twelve, or whatever it's called. In fact, stop talking to Jon Favreau for, like, ever. Most important: STOP TALKING TO DIANE SAWYER.

3. Do A Movie No one Expects

This one is tough. The big-ticket actor making the smart indie film is a cliché these days. We kind of cringe when we think of you playing a developmentally disabled person to get some James Lipton brownie points. At the very least, you should make a movie with—how's this?—a script! No more blockbusters, superheroes or sci-fi for eighteen months.

4. Fix the Look

No more baseball caps, and lose the goatee—we told you that four issues ago. And enough with the synthetic tans. You showed up at theGigli premiere, looking like an overcooked Oompa-Loompa.

5. Find A Nice Girl

We can't fault you for Jennifer Lopez. Not even Carson Kressley would have said no. But you need to find yourself a woman who won't make you run out to the corner store for a Lamborghini. We have a couple of very nice editorial assistants here who'd be more than happy with a few cranberry vodkas and a ticket to the Shins.

We have some other suggestions, Ben. You might want to get fat. Not too fat—but maybe a little roly-poly, enough to punch and impress the Sunday-afternoon football crowd. You might want to speak with an accent. You might want to wear a cape. Finally, we have seven words for you if all else fails:Good Will Hunting II: Gooder and Huntinger.

Ben, we didn't vote you Actor of Our Generation, and Lord knows you didn't ask for this. But we're stuck with each other for a couple of decades, and we may as well make it work. You seem like a good enough guy, and besides, we don't see anyone else on the horizon. Unless Chris O'Donnell's making a John Sayles movie.

Go get 'em, kid!

Love,

Your friends atThe Verge.