Cindi Berger and Michael Nyman Orchestrate PR Power Shift in Hollywood

Max Sterling, 11/19/2025Hollywood’s PR machine rewinds and reboots: PMK Entertainment rises, helmed by iconic fixers Berger and Nyman, blending old-school savvy with digital hustle. The message? Names fade, but in Tinseltown, reinvention is the only true legacy.

For those keeping score, PMK isn’t starting from scratch. The brains and bravado behind this comeback? Michael Nyman, a man so woven into Hollywood’s DNA his name crops up in more boardrooms than Starbucks. Partnering again with Cindi Berger—stepping up as CEO—PMK isn’t so much a new face as a familiar one returning for another act. Think of it as a legacy sequel: the same stars, a few new plot twists, some clever digital-age updates.

Berger’s base: coast to coast, New York to Los Angeles. She’ll be calling shots to Nyman—who, about seven years ago, had spun off from the powerhouse PMK*BNC to cook up ACC (Acceleration Community of Companies). If that all sounds a bit circular, well, that’s showbiz. Turns out, in an industry fixated on the “new new thing,” sometimes the smartest play is to dust off the classics.

Yet, in 2025’s entertainment sphere, the headline question remains: does any of this matter when someone with a ring light and a TikTok login can generate more chatter than a roomful of Oscar winners? The short answer: absolutely—if you’re sitting on a Rolodex featuring Denzel Washington, Hugh Jackman, Billie Jean King, The Grammy Awards, and Jerry Bruckheimer. There are PR firms, and then there’s “you-get-answered-on-the-first-ring” territory. PMK lands solidly in the latter, scooping up 35 of 77 former R&CPMK staffers and, along with them, decades of industry secrets and signed NDAs. Maybe even a whisper of that old-school, martini-fueled magic Hollywood refuses to quit.

Alan Nierob, now President at PMK Entertainment and no stranger to industry lore, put it best: “When Rogers & Cowan launched, they were the first company to house entertainment and corporate clients. I’m thrilled to be a part of the next generation.” Nierob’s not just going through the motions, either—one suspects his contacts are worth more than some Venice bungalows.

Of course, this reinvention didn’t unspool in isolation. The parent company, Interpublic Group (IPG), chose early 2025’s favorite corporate move: sweeping layoffs, roughly 3,200 strong, timed with the precision of a Bond villain—if Bond villains crunched numbers and worshipped shareholder calls. With Omnicom sniffing around, IPG wasn’t tearing up over tradition. R&CPMK got the ax to make way for something, well, shinier—at least on the logo.

This isn’t merely an exercise in PowerPoint makeovers; it’s a study in survival instincts. Berger, striking a careful balance between optimism and realism, captured it best with PR-speak polished to a diamond shine—talk of agility, collaboration, putting clients at “the center of the cultural zeitgeist.” Translated: “We’re not obsolete. We just got a wardrobe change and, hopefully, a stronger Wi-Fi signal.”

Of course, not everyone made the transition. Brands like McDonald’s and Mastercard—perhaps drawn to familiar routines—stayed with legacy teams. Meanwhile, staffers scattered. Twenty drifted into ACC’s own in-house consultancy, “Advisory.” Another twenty-two found new homes at DKC, the comms player pursuing both b2b and b2c territory with the energy of a startup and the patience of seasoned pros. Some might call it The Great PR Shuffle of 2024—a title that would’ve been inconceivable a decade ago, yet here we are.

Zoom out a bit, and the moves reveal more than just corporate hopscotch. Michael Nyman, the architect of PMK’s earlier golden era—doubling revenue before stepping away—has circled back, presumably because the timing (or the challenge) proved irresistible. Berger, long regarded as the secret weapon behind too many A-list narratives to count, now fronts a team navigating that tricky intersection where old-school charm meets the digital hurricane of memes, streams, and influencers.

The PMK client page reads like a festival program: Antoine Fuqua, Sam Levinson, Tribeca Festival, The Paley Center, with more recognizable names than a Vanity Fair afterparty. And yet, for all the hoopla, the rules have changed. Hollywood’s old structures—backroom deals, bylined gossip, the slow burn of reputation—compete with the frantic pace of viral culture. But here’s the thing: chaos breeds opportunity. Stumble too far from the basics, and it’s easy to forget the reason the phone keeps ringing. People still yearn for the fixers, the orchestrators, the tireless handlers who take crises in stride and make comebacks look effortless.

It’s tempting to view all this as just the latest in a long line of agency reinventions. But there’s something else humming beneath the surface—the persistent idea that in show business, everything old really is new again. ACC, now boasting more than 600 staffers across three continents, has become a formidable machine destined to help shape the future of entertainment marketing. Nyman’s pitch, wrapped in “full-funnel discipline” and “strategic growth engines,” sounds almost utopian, but maybe that’s part of the allure.

On second thought, maybe reinvention is simply the industry’s way of hitting refresh—trading a few boardroom badges, updating the window dressings, and waiting to see whose story outlasts the chaos. In the end, brands fade and empires merge or melt, but Hollywood’s appetite for tough, nimble operators remains insatiable.

Because really, the game continues. Sometimes the pieces just look a little different.

Hollywood’s public relations circuit isn’t exactly known for standing still. Like a restless auteur bored with their own script, the industry thrives on reinvention—sometimes bold, sometimes comically cosmetic. Case in point: the recent vanishing act of “R&CPMK,” that tongue-tied moniker for an era obsessed with alphabet soup mergers and ego battles. Now, out of that cloud of rebranding dust, PMK Entertainment strides onto the soundstage, nostalgia clinging to its tailored blazer, but eyes firmly on tomorrow’s headlines.For those keeping score, PMK isn’t starting from scratch. The brains and bravado behind this comeback? Michael Nyman, a man so woven into Hollywood’s DNA his name crops up in more boardrooms than Starbucks. Partnering again with Cindi Berger—stepping up as CEO—PMK isn’t so much a new face as a familiar one returning for another act. Think of it as a legacy sequel: the same stars, a few new plot twists, some clever digital-age updates.Berger’s base: coast to coast, New York to Los Angeles. She’ll be calling shots to Nyman—who, about seven years ago, had spun off from the powerhouse PMK*BNC to cook up ACC (Acceleration Community of Companies). If that all sounds a bit circular, well, that’s showbiz. Turns out, in an industry fixated on the “new new thing,” sometimes the smartest play is to dust off the classics.Yet, in 2025’s entertainment sphere, the headline question remains: does any of this matter when someone with a ring light and a TikTok login can generate more chatter than a roomful of Oscar winners? The short answer: absolutely—if you’re sitting on a Rolodex featuring Denzel Washington, Hugh Jackman, Billie Jean King, The Grammy Awards, and Jerry Bruckheimer. There are PR firms, and then there’s “you-get-answered-on-the-first-ring” territory. PMK lands solidly in the latter, scooping up 35 of 77 former R&CPMK staffers and, along with them, decades of industry secrets and signed NDAs. Maybe even a whisper of that old-school, martini-fueled magic Hollywood refuses to quit.Alan Nierob, now President at PMK Entertainment and no stranger to industry lore, put it best: “When Rogers & Cowan launched, they were the first company to house entertainment and corporate clients. I’m thrilled to be a part of the next generation.” Nierob’s not just going through the motions, either—one suspects his contacts are worth more than some Venice bungalows.Of course, this reinvention didn’t unspool in isolation. The parent company, Interpublic Group (IPG), chose early 2025’s favorite corporate move: sweeping layoffs, roughly 3,200 strong, timed with the precision of a Bond villain—if Bond villains crunched numbers and worshipped shareholder calls. With Omnicom sniffing around, IPG wasn’t tearing up over tradition. R&CPMK got the ax to make way for something, well, shinier—at least on the logo.This isn’t merely an exercise in PowerPoint makeovers; it’s a study in survival instincts. Berger, striking a careful balance between optimism and realism, captured it best with PR-speak polished to a diamond shine—talk of agility, collaboration, putting clients at “the center of the cultural zeitgeist.” Translated: “We’re not obsolete. We just got a wardrobe change and, hopefully, a stronger Wi-Fi signal.”Of course, not everyone made the transition. Brands like McDonald’s and Mastercard—perhaps drawn to familiar routines—stayed with legacy teams. Meanwhile, staffers scattered. Twenty drifted into ACC’s own in-house consultancy, “Advisory.” Another twenty-two found new homes at DKC, the comms player pursuing both b2b and b2c territory with the energy of a startup and the patience of seasoned pros. Some might call it The Great PR Shuffle of 2024—a title that would’ve been inconceivable a decade ago, yet here we are.Zoom out a bit, and the moves reveal more than just corporate hopscotch. Michael Nyman, the architect of PMK’s earlier golden era—doubling revenue before stepping away—has circled back, presumably because the timing (or the challenge) proved irresistible. Berger, long regarded as the secret weapon behind too many A-list narratives to count, now fronts a team navigating that tricky intersection where old-school charm meets the digital hurricane of memes, streams, and influencers.The PMK client page reads like a festival program: Antoine Fuqua, Sam Levinson, Tribeca Festival, The Paley Center, with more recognizable names than a Vanity Fair afterparty. And yet, for all the hoopla, the rules have changed. Hollywood’s old structures—backroom deals, bylined gossip, the slow burn of reputation—compete with the frantic pace of viral culture. But here’s the thing: chaos breeds opportunity. Stumble too far from the basics, and it’s easy to forget the reason the phone keeps ringing. People still yearn for the fixers, the orchestrators, the tireless handlers who take crises in stride and make comebacks look effortless.It’s tempting to view all this as just the latest in a long line of agency reinventions. But there’s something else humming beneath the surface—the persistent idea that in show business, everything old really is new again. ACC, now boasting more than 600 staffers across three continents, has become a formidable machine destined to help shape the future of entertainment marketing. Nyman’s pitch, wrapped in “full-funnel discipline” and “strategic growth engines,” sounds almost utopian, but maybe that’s part of the allure.On second thought, maybe reinvention is simply the industry’s way of hitting refresh—trading a few boardroom badges, updating the window dressings, and waiting to see whose story outlasts the chaos. In the end, brands fade and empires merge or melt, but Hollywood’s appetite for tough, nimble operators remains insatiable.Because really, the game continues. Sometimes the pieces just look a little different.