We are all aware that the public opinion of a case in high-profile Hollywood lawsuits may be considered just as important as the courtroom itself, influencing the trial's course as well as the public's impression of the celebrities. Cases similar to the explosive Johnny Depp–Amber Heard defamation trial, which captivated global audiences and blurred the lines between legal proceedings and public spectacle, have already shown how reputations can be rebuilt or destroyed in real time. The legal battle between Blake Lively and Justin Baldoni, the co-stars of the movie adaptation of Colleen Hoover’s novel It Ends With Us, is a similar case where the courtroom drama intertwines with a fierce media war. The lawsuit, which involves claims of sexual harassment, defamation, creative clashes, and commercial disagreements, is also a media battle in which both sides use public relations tactics to slant the story in their favor. Let’s take a closer look at the backstage drama that ended up outshining the movie itself.
Crisis management: make or break
Back in 2019, Justin Baldoni acquired the movie rights to It Ends With Us, Colleen Hoover’s novel that centered on the main character Lily Bloom’s struggle with domestic abuse. As the movie’s director, producer, and male lead, Baldoni took on multiple responsibilities throughout the project. Aware of the delicate nature of telling such a tale, he repeatedly stated that he trusted Blake Lively’s viewpoint as a woman and collaborator. Lively, the movie’s female lead, later assumed the position of co-producer, giving her greater influence over the movie’s direction. This shift in responsibilities coincided with a series of creative disagreements between the two, which reportedly escalated tensions on set. Over time, much of the crew unfollowed Baldoni on social media and distanced themselves from him, adding to the friction. The growing tension became even more evident during the promotional campaign, where Baldoni attended events alone, further fueling speculation about the conflict behind the scenes. Later, during the lawsuit, Baldoni claimed that Lively had been “a difficult, vengeful nightmare” and even “a monster” to work with on set. He also accused her of repeatedly altering the script and wardrobe, actions which, according to him, placed an unfair financial burden on the studio.
According to Baldoni’s allegations, Lively’s ultimate goal from the very beginning was to seize full creative control of the movie. He accuses her of fabricating or greatly exaggerating the sexual harassment claims, using what he describes as harmless interactions as leverage against him. Allegedly, Lively was also insistent on obtaining the Producers Guild of America (PGA) designation throughout the production. Many believe her determination to secure this credit may have been driven by the idea that, if the movie won Best Picture, it could put an Oscar in her hands: Something that would undoubtedly add weight to her career.
Further complicating the situation, Lively is said to have pushed for the movie’s release to align with her husband Ryan Reynolds’ Wolverine & Deadpool in order to promote them under a collaborative public relations approach reminiscent of Barbenheimer, in which movies Barbie and Oppenheimer premiered on the same day and were marketed side by side. This decision drew criticism, with many contending that the movie's deeper message was being overshadowed by commercial interests. What’s more, Lively’s portrayal of the project as a romantic comedy was also seen as tone-deaf, diluting the gravity of the original narrative. The movie’s marketing, with its cheerful slogans urging viewers to “grab your friends” and “wear your floral dresses,” further fueled this reaction. Many were disappointed, saying the campaign treated a story about domestic abuse like a lighthearted girls’ night out. Lively’s odd interviews, awkward jokes, and her promotion of a haircare product during the movie’s premiere didn’t do her any favors either. Her decision to sue Baldoni was considered a power maneuver intended to establish control by the crisis management specialist Ulysses Osuna. Her dismissal of public outcry as “made-up noise” came across as dismissive and only exacerbated the issue. What started out with as a minor PR blunder spiraled into a major career crisis when Lively refused to accept responsibility, brushed off criticism, and made grave claims against Baldoni and other cast members, which the public mostly regarded with skepticism.
A $650 million retaliation
After a lengthy period of silence, Baldoni sued The New York Times for $250 million in defamation after the publication of pieces that were reportedly fueled by Lively's PR team. He subsequently sued Lively and Reynolds once more, this time for $400 million. The charges included defamation, civil extortion, and invasion of privacy. The federal court, however, dismissed most of Baldoni’s claims, saying they simply weren’t backed up by enough evidence. For his defamation allegations, the judge explained that to hold someone liable for defamation, you have to show they seriously doubted whether what they were saying was true. In this case, there was no indication that Lively, Reynolds, or The New York Times had any reason to think their statements were false. According to the judge, the Times reviewed the evidence available and reported what it believed happened. Maybe in a dramatized way, but not with malicious intent.
As for Baldoni’s claim that Lively’s team engaged in civil extortion, the judge didn’t see it as blackmail but as “hard bargaining over working conditions”. At this point, I cannot say Baldoni is entirely innocent, but I should note that claims about the judge’s financial ties to companies linked to Lively and Reynolds are raising questions about the fairness of the ruling.
Image, feminism, and the cancel culture
Lively’s sexual harassment lawsuit against Baldoni is still unresolved and has been postponed until March 2026. Statistically speaking, false claims in such cases are quite rare. However, the possibility of a person using such grave accusations as a weapon for PR stunts or image restoration sets a risky precedent that might undermine movements like Me Too and silence actual victims also. If Lively’s claims prove unfounded, her actions could do lasting harm not only to her reputation but to feminist advocacy itself. That said, even if driven by valid reasons, the kind of cancel culture that takes shape especially through social media brings with it another unsettling question: when outrage grows unchecked and turns into a spectacle, how long before it starts producing new victims of its own?
