Remember the kid who stole every scene in "Role Models" with nothing but a foul mouth and a filthy stuffed bunny?
Thompson was everywhere in the mid-2000s — "That's So Raven," "Shark Tale," a scene-stealing turn in "School of Rock," and then the role that made him a cult hero as Ronnie Shields.
For a stretch, he was one of the most recognizable child stars in America.
Then, like a lot of young performers who grow up on camera, the phone stopped ringing as loudly.
The industry that once chased him pivoted to the next shiny newcomer, and Thompson found himself in that brutal limbo where former child stars either reinvent themselves or quietly fade.
In a candid 2022 interview that resurfaced and went viral again this week, Thompson opened up about the years he spent broke after his Hollywood money dried up — and the moment he found himself working a regular job, far from the red carpets of his youth.
The clip racked up millions of views, not because people wanted to gawk, but because his lack of shame hit a nerve.
He talked about survival without a hint of self-pity.
Fans flooded the comments with the same refrain: this is what resilience actually looks like.
No comeback tour, no cryptic Instagram apology video — just a grown man telling the truth about a business that chews up its youngest talent and rarely sends a thank-you note.
These days Thompson still acts when the right project comes along, and he's leaned into comedy and voice work that lets his natural timing do the heavy lifting.
But the bigger story is the conversation his interview sparked about what happens to child stars once the cameras move on.
Hollywood loves a discovery and loves a comeback.
It has almost no infrastructure for the messy middle years.
His story also lands differently in 2024, when former Nickelodeon and Disney kids are speaking out about the pressure of growing up on set.
Thompson wasn't the loudest voice in that reckoning, but his willingness to say "I struggled and I'm still here" gives the conversation something it usually lacks: a happy-ish ending that doesn't require a redemption arc.
The viral moment didn't hand him a Marvel franchise or a Netflix deal.
It did something arguably rarer — it made people root for a guy who never asked to be a cautionary tale.
The takeaway here isn't that fame is cruel, though it usually is.
Final Thoughts
It's that Thompson refused to let a bad stretch define his whole story, and that refusal is its own kind of star power.