lLadies, gentlemen, filmmakers: our long nightmare is over. The legal drama “Finish Us” is finally done with us. In a first-person plural statement on behalf of Blake Lively and Justin Baldoni, hidden as a horde of nippled shells swarmed the Met Gala carpet, our pair of fiercely feuding actors were forced to remind the general public that, in reality, their incredibly expensive legal bonfire had always been about two creatives gently shining their combined lights on the issue of domestic violence. “The final product: the movie Ends with Us – “It is a source of pride for all of us who worked to bring it to life,” said yesterday’s formal epilogue about a case that even Pyrrhus would have solved 12 months ago. “Raising awareness and making a meaningful impact in the lives of domestic violence survivors, and all survivors, is a goal we support.”
Note that “and all survivors” are magnificently magnanimous: if you survived a plane crash, or Glastonbury, or even your best friend’s hen weekend, then this one was for you too. You’re welcome, victims! And if it took up to eight figures in legal fees to get here, and if that would have bought a lot of women’s shelters, then yes, Blake and Justin are certainly sorry for simply worrying too much. It is a cross to bear.
Although the deal came as a surprise to many, Blake vs. Justin was a battle that, in recent weeks, had ceded valuable column inches to alternative conflicts like the US vs. Iran in the Strait of Hormuz. A unilaterally launched nonsense with no exit strategy that threatens to drag even neutrals into its destructive vortex? It’s surprising that Lively-Baldoni was ultimately relegated to No. 2 on that particular list.
Anyway, I guess we can’t avoid a recap anymore. Fortunately, space limitations preclude an exhaustive rehash of what was simply the defining Hollywood feud of its era. But as a brief reminder, this case began with an alleged conflict behind the scenes at It Ends With Us, a 2024 film adapted from Colleen Hoover’s bestseller, which turned out to be a huge hit. Baldoni, a Ted-Talking male feminist, directed and starred. Lively, a bigger star, played the lead role. It quickly escalated into lawsuits and countersuits alleging harassment and industrial online smear campaigns, forcing the release of private messages that, among others, showed Lively’s husband, Ryan Reynolds, and (formerly?) her best friend Taylor Swift getting extremely trapped. The details of the deal have not been made public, so we don’t really know how it ended.
Apart from being incredibly expensive and professionally awful for everyone involved. Three and a half years ago, Lively and Baldoni hadn’t even met; they are now part of everyone’s CV for the rest of their (limited) careers. What started with supportive castmates saying things like “as awake as both of us” (Lively) or offering to soothe each other’s sore throats by sending their “medical intuitive” (Baldoni), quickly degenerated into what seemed like a series of grotesque power plays, various forms of weirdness and creepiness, accusations of four-way narcissism, and at least one trip to Mexico in search of restorative stem cells. In less than a year, the case became the centerpiece of a keynote speech at CPAC, the main annual gathering of conservatives in the United States.
Meanwhile, so many things had been thrown out by various judges along the way that if this had finally gone to trial, a significant portion of that multimillion-dollar-a-week shitshow would have been taken up with Lively and her representatives taking the stand to explain precisely how commercially toxic she had become. I mean… did they want to get into this? When did they really think it through?
As things stand now, it’s conceivable that Baldoni could one day make the occasional low-budget film, while Lively hopes her next project doesn’t flop, although her own husband and at least one film executive have suggested she may never act again. It was Reynolds who initially, it was claimed, arranged for Baldoni to be dropped by their mutual talent agency (which the agency denied), and it must be said that the blast radius of this case also includes Reynolds, who is no longer the Teflon A-lister he was before it began.
As is the fashion of the time, we must now ask ourselves: what did we learn? There was one lesson that stood out and I’m afraid it’s the same one we’ve learned before in this column. That is to say: never litigate. Unless there is truly no alternative, avoid litigation at all costs. Seriously, DO NOT LITIGATE. Unless a criminal trial demands your participation – in which case, my condolences/condemnations – then do not under any circumstances think that “your day in court” is anything other than a suction of toxic energy that will dominate your every waking moment, probably for years, or that Lady Justice is anything more than a gold digger that you unfortunately do not want to get involved with. There is no shadow on her personally; I’m sure she would be lovely if she weren’t involved in the legal world.
The other lesson is also increasingly familiar, which is that the old ways of Hollywood have proven to be no match for the Internet. The dark currents of the online world proved to be far greater and deadlier than any of the industry’s traditional legal and image tools, and ultimately impossible to control. It didn’t end with the Lively-Baldoni deal; in fact, it seems like it just started.
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Marina Hyde’s new book, What a Time to be Alive!, is out in September (Guardian Faber Publishing, £20). To support The Guardian, order your signed copy at guardianbookshop.com. Delivery charges may apply
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Marina Hyde is a columnist for The Guardian.
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