Two months ago, when word leaked that Warner Bros. might be sold, the town wept. Tears, eulogies, “end of an era” Instagram posts; the whole funeral vibe for a 102-year-old studio that gave us Casablanca, Batman, and Hogwarts.
Then, on Friday, Netflix dropped the match: an $82.7 billion knockout punch to buy Warner Bros. and HBO Max outright. Grief didn’t just turn to anger; it detonated.
The backlash hit like a freight train:
- The Writers Guild and Teamsters screamed “bloodbath,” predicting thousands of layoffs and the final gutting of wages.
- Theater owners basically declared war, spitting on Netflix’s promise of 30–45-day theatrical windows: “That’s not a release strategy, that’s a courtesy flush.”
- James Cameron called it “a disaster for cinema.” Elizabeth Warren thundered that one company now holds “dangerous cultural power.”
- Jane Fonda fired off a letter warning of a First Amendment crisis.
Even the normally sleepy antitrust crowd is screaming for the FTC to kill the deal; especially after whispers that the Trump administration was quietly rooting for anyone except Netflix.
Ted Sarandos stepped up with a smile and the corporate equivalent of “trust me, bro”; insisting this monster merger will magically “create more jobs” and keep movie theaters alive. Half the town responded by flipping him the bird on X, the other half is already lawyering up for the mother of all regulatory fights.
Bottom line: the old Hollywood guard just watched its empire get swallowed by the red envelope. They’re not sad anymore. They’re furious. And they’re ready to burn the house down to stop it.