2S.🔥 THE PRICE OF SPEAKING UP — Emma Stone and Mark Ruffalo officially join the global Boycott, Divestment & Sanctions (BDS) movement against Israeli film companies. As studios cut ties and projects collapse, Hollywood’s biggest moral war since #MeToo begins.2S

In a seismic shift ripping through Tinseltown, Oscar darling Emma Stone and Hulk star Mark Ruffalo have thrown their weight behind a burgeoning boycott of Israeli film institutions, igniting what insiders are calling Hollywood’s fiercest ethical showdown since the #MeToo revolution toppled predators like Harvey Weinstein. The duo’s high-profile endorsements of the Film Workers for Palestine (FWP) pledge—now boasting over 5,000 signatories—signal a cultural earthquake, with studios scrambling, collaborations crumbling, and battle lines drawn in the sand of Gaza’s endless conflict.

Launched on September 8, 2025, the FWP pledge commits signers to shun “complicit” Israeli film entities—festivals like Jerusalem and Haifa, state-backed cinemas, broadcasters, and production houses accused of whitewashing Israel’s actions in Gaza, which pledgers label “genocide and apartheid.” It’s not a blanket BDS assault on every Israeli filmmaker but a targeted strike at institutions partnering with the government, echoing the anti-apartheid boycotts that helped dismantle South Africa’s regime. Stone, fresh off her Poor Things triumph with director Yorgos Lanthimos (also a signer), and Ruffalo, a longtime activist on Palestinian issues, joined luminaries like Joaquin Phoenix, Olivia Colman, Ayo Edebiri, and Jonathan Glazer in rapid succession, ballooning the list from 1,200 to nearly 4,000 in days.

“This is about ending complicity in carnage,” reads the pledge, invoking cinema’s power to humanize or dehumanize. Ruffalo, no stranger to controversy after amplifying ceasefire calls post-October 7, 2023, has long decried Hollywood’s “whispers” of support for Palestine amid multimillion-dollar fears. Stone’s move stunned fans; the La La Land star, known for quirky rom-coms, now faces accusations of biting the hand feeding her Bugonia, her upcoming Lanthimos flick eyed for awards buzz.

The fallout? Cataclysmic. Paramount Pictures fired the first salvo on September 12, blasting the pledge as “fundamentally against our values” after thousands signed on. Warner Bros. Discovery followed suit in October, declaring any adherence “violates our policies” in response to legal warnings, effectively shielding Israeli co-productions. Whispers of shelved projects abound: a high-profile U.S.-Israel miniseries on Hulu reportedly stalled as producers balked at FWP scrutiny, while Venice darling The Sea—a Palestinian Oscar hopeful—faced ironic backlash from boycotters mistakenly targeting its Israeli ties. Indie distributors have quietly axed Jerusalem Fest screenings, stranding films like Dead Sea Guardians, a Jewish-Palestinian collab touted for peace.

Legal torpedoes loom large. U.K. Lawyers for Israel bombarded Netflix, BBC, Disney, and Amazon with cease-and-desist threats, arguing the boycott breaches the Equality Act as “racist discrimination” by nationality—exposing studios to lawsuits, funding cuts, and insurance voids. Stateside, the Brandeis Center warned of civil rights violations, evoking McCarthy-era blacklists. FWP clapped back undeterred: “A moral imperative.”

Hollywood’s schism mirrors #MeToo’s purity tests. A counter-letter from 1,200+ heavyweights—Debra Messing, Mayim Bialik, Liev Schreiber, ex-Paramount CEO Sherry Lansing—rails against “censorship and erasure of Jewish stories,” spotlighting Israeli cinema’s diversity: films like Our Boys humanizing Palestinian grief alongside Jewish trauma. Israeli Producers Association laments the “misguided” attack on artists fostering dialogue, not diktats.

The price of speaking up? Ruffalo and Stone endure boycotts of their own. X erupts with #BoycottBugonia, fans vowing to skip Bugonia and Ruffalo’s Avengers reruns. Agents field panicked calls; one insider whispers, “Talent’s panicking—multi-picture deals hang by threads.” Parallels to #MeToo abound: then, silence enabled abusers; now, complicity in geopolitics demands reckoning. But unlike Weinstein’s fall, this war lacks villains—only fractured friends.

As Oscars loom, the ripple effects mount. Will Bugonia premiere sans Israeli backers? Can Phoenix’s next opus dodge festival snubs? Studios, burned by #MeToo’s $500M payouts, triage: protect profits or principles? FWP’s momentum surges, but backlash bites—Scream 7 faces ironic BDS calls.

This isn’t a blip; it’s bedrock shifting. Hollywood, long a liberal bastion, grapples its soul: art for peace or profits? Stone and Ruffalo’s gambit heralds the storm—the moral war where everyone loses, but silence costs most.

Riley Gaines responded to Lia Thomas’s lawsuit: “I felt uncomfortable sharing the women’s restroom with ‘him’. He even refused a prostate exam. I was worried, what if he felt ‘anxiety’ like Pedro Pascal?”

Riley Gaines responded to Lia Thomas’s lawsuit: “I felt uncomfortable sharing the women’s restroom with ‘him’. He even refused a prostate exam. I was worried, what if he felt ‘anxiety’ like Pedro Pascal?”

In the swirling controversy over transgender athletes in women’s sports, former University of Kentucky swimmer Riley Gaines has fired back at Lia Thomas, the transgender swimmer whose 2022 NCAA victories ignited a firestorm.

Gaines, now a prominent activist and plaintiff in a high-stakes lawsuit against the NCAA, didn’t hold back in her latest salvo, highlighting personal discomforts and drawing a pointed comparison to actor Pedro Pascal’s public admissions of anxiety. The exchange underscores the deepening divide in debates about fairness, privacy, and inclusion in female-only spaces.

Gaines’ remarks come amid ongoing legal battles that have reshaped college athletics. Thomas, who transitioned from male to female and became the first openly transgender athlete to win an NCAA Division I title in the women’s 500-yard freestyle, has faced bans from elite competitions like the Olympics after losing a challenge at the Court of Arbitration for Sport.

World Aquatics, the sport’s governing body, updated policies to restrict transgender women who transitioned after puberty from women’s events, citing retained biological advantages.

Gaines, who tied with Thomas for fifth in the 200-yard freestyle at those championships but was handed a sixth-place trophy onstage, has long voiced outrage over the incident. She claims it symbolized broader inequities, including forced shared locker rooms where female athletes felt violated by Thomas’ male genitalia.

The “prostate exam” reference in Gaines’ response appears to mock Thomas’ biological reality as a transgender woman—someone assigned male at birth who retains male anatomy unless surgically altered.

Gaines has previously alleged that Thomas refused certain medical checks, amplifying her narrative of discomfort in intimate settings like restrooms and locker rooms. Teammates, she says, were even directed to counseling if uneasy about “male genitalia” in women’s spaces, a claim that fueled her activism. This isn’t just rhetoric; it’s personal.

Gaines testified before Congress about feeling “traumatized” and “emotionally blackmailed” into silence, turning her post-college life into a crusade via speeches, books, and her Outkick podcast.

The Pedro Pascal jab adds a layer of cultural critique. The “Last of Us” star recently opened up about severe anxiety, including discomfort in high-pressure situations that left him “paralyzed.” Gaines seems to sarcastically question why Thomas’ potential “anxiety”—perhaps over privacy invasions or medical scrutiny—shouldn’t prompt accommodations, while women’s unease is dismissed.

It’s a sharp pivot, implying hypocrisy in how sensitivities are handled. Pascal, a vocal LGBTQ+ ally, has defended trans rights and clashed with critics like J.K. Rowling, making the comparison a dig at progressive icons who champion inclusion but, in Gaines’ view, overlook biological women’s boundaries.

Thomas’ lawsuit against the NCAA, filed alongside advocates for trans rights, argues that policies barring her from women’s events violate inclusion standards.

But Gaines and co-plaintiffs in their own class-action suit—backed by the Independent Council on Women’s Sports—counter that such rules breach Title IX, denying biological females fair competition and safe spaces.

Recent developments bolster their case: The University of Pennsylvania, Thomas’ alma mater, settled a federal Title IX probe by erasing her records, banning trans women from women’s teams, and apologizing to affected athletes to secure funding. Gaines hailed it as a win, urging the NCAA to follow suit and amend Thomas’ titles.

Critics accuse Gaines of exaggeration; early accounts suggested Thomas behaved respectfully in locker rooms, and some label her activism politically motivated.

Yet her influence grows—over 1.6 million X followers, rallies, and ties to conservative causes like Turning Point USA. Supporters see her as a defender of Title IX’s promise, protecting girls from “glorified male violence,” as she put it in Olympic boxing critiques.

This feud isn’t abstract—it’s about real stakes. Female athletes report injuries from trans competitors in volleyball and track, echoing Gaines’ poolside grievances.

As lawsuits drag on, with no NCAA settlement in sight, the rhetoric escalates. Thomas, now in law school, fades from the spotlight, but Gaines presses forward, warning of eroded privacy and fairness.

Whether her barbs sway courts or culture remains unclear, but they’ve undeniably amplified the clash, forcing a reckoning on what “women’s sports” truly means in 2025.