Maybe it was because the whole thing blew up too big?
On the same night that The Hollywood Reporter, The Wall Street Journal, and The New York Times splashed headlines about the Fox scandal, the host of an ABC talk show invited some guests to chat about the storm sweeping North America.
Well, Disney was an ally, after all.
Before Barry Meyer and Robert Iger officially split, helping each other was also a way of saving themselves.
And the content of the ABC talk show on the night of May 9, 2004, went something like this—
The first topic the host and guest discussed was: Did Chris Columbus hate Marvel?
Faced with the host's question, the guest shook his head. "I don't think Chris could possibly hate Marvel."
"Not only because The Hollywood Reporter said that after Fantastic Four got stuck in development, comic-loving Chris signed a deal with New Line to develop Iron Man, but also because Chris was Steven Spielberg's student, and everyone knows Spielberg loves comics."
"As far back as the 1970s, Spielberg almost directed Superman. And in recent years, Men in Black and Road to Perdition—those were his productions. Spielberg said publicly many times that his love for comics influenced many people around him, including Chris. Chris had already started writing the Fantastic Four script back in 1994."
"Oh, so you're saying that director Tim Story was lying?" the host asked with a grin.
"Of course."
The guest nodded seriously. "And I think he had a motive to lie. Before taking on Fantastic Four, he'd never directed a real blockbuster. So when the project ran into problems, he panicked—afraid his incompetence would be exposed. Because that would mean disappearing from Hollywood."
"..."
The second topic was Halle Berry's pay dispute with Fox.
The host said, "The Wall Street Journal claims Fox refused to offer Halle Berry a high salary. Instead, they came up with a plan—adding a storyline in X-Men 3 where Storm travels to Africa to save children, using the excuse of 'giving voice to her people' to persuade her to accept less pay. And once she agreed, they removed that scene from the script—or shot it but didn't include it in the final cut. What do you think about that?"
"Oh—that's despicable! It's outright fraud!" the guest shouted. "Using a two-faced script is a crime in Hollywood!"
"And I'll say this—Fox's behavior is blatant racial discrimination!"
"Halle Berry is an Oscar-winning actress! Of course she'd expect a higher salary. That's perfectly logical, right? If Fox didn't want to pay her, fine—they could've just said no. But…"
"Fox made a fake script?"
"Used racial guilt to trick her into taking less money?"
"That's moral blackmail under the banner of racism!"
"Only a company that discriminates against Black people would come up with something like that!"
"Yeah, that makes sense," the host nodded.
Then asked, "So how likely do you think this story is true?"
"One hundred percent!" the guest said. "Because this is a serious accusation. The Wall Street Journal wouldn't risk a lawsuit if it were false—and this leak came straight from the X-Men director himself."
"Everyone knows Bryan Singer, who directed the first two X-Men films, officially resigned. The official story was that he wanted to direct Superman for Warner Bros., but now? I think he left to fight for justice!"
"..."
The third topic: why did Tim Story come from Fox in the first place?
The guest immediately shrieked, "That's obvious! Fox knew they were being racist! So they tried to drag others down with them!"
"Because if everyone discriminates, then they don't have to be afraid of being exposed!"
"And this method was cheap too. I've heard Tim Story's fee for directing Fantastic Four was less than a million dollars. And since half of Fantastic Four's production costs were covered by Constantin Film, Fox—who held distribution rights—could balance their budget completely!"
"But they didn't expect the plan to collapse halfway!"
"And Tim Story says Chris Columbus discriminated against him? Has he ever asked himself—if Fox really liked him, why would they only pay him one million to direct?"
"Right?"
"..."
Since not everyone could read all the day's news or pick up on hidden signals between the lines, once the talk show broke things down and spoon-fed it to the public, Fox instantly became the center of the world—the eye of the storm!
The first to explode were the equality activists.
They couldn't believe the Fantastic Four issue had somehow turned into a Fox scandal.
Or rather—they couldn't believe that in the 21st century, Fox was still openly practicing racial discrimination.
And worse, they weaponized it—using racism as a tool to morally blackmail a Black actress.
"Fox used a fake script to deceive Halle Berry? That's disgusting!"
"Damn it! Fox committed fraud!! They belong in hell!!!"
"How is this garbage company still alive? They should've died with Cleopatra! The world doesn't need a repulsive pile of corporate crap like Fox!"
Equality activists roared in outrage.
Even racists went quiet—not because they'd suddenly grown fond of Black people, but because Fox's actions were just too dirty.
Using a two-faced script wasn't just unethical—it was illegal.
If they supported Fox now, they'd look like accomplices to a crime.
And then what? How could they keep arguing with those "woke" idiots later?
So... a pause?
Wait and see?
Play it by ear?
While the racists stayed quiet, others sure didn't.
The media, for one.
Once word got out that Fox had caused a massive scandal, reporters swarmed the Fox headquarters, desperate for a scoop.
Of course, everyone knew Fox wouldn't talk easily.
So while surrounding Fox, countless journalists also went after Halle Berry to find out the truth.
And then—
"Motherf***er! Fox did give me that script about saving children in Africa!!!"
"Fox chairman Tom Rothman did tell me that if I took less pay, they'd help me bring attention to Africa!!!"
"Before this all broke out, I was actually considering signing the deal!"
"What? You want to know how much I asked for versus what Fox offered?"
"I don't know which outlet you're from, but you don't need to be polite!"
"Because there's no business secret left between me and Fox!"
"So I'll say it plainly—I asked for 20 million. Fox refused. They only offered me 5 million, plus a promise to 'rewrite the script.' But—"
"Bullshit!"
"Who'd believe a capitalist's word?!"
"They're vampires!!"
"Monsters bound for hell!!!"
Boom—
Halle Berry's words were the final straw that broke the camel's back, igniting the entire North American continent.
Sure, asking for $20 million for X3 was steep. Even Hugh Jackman, the most popular X-Men actor, wasn't getting that much.
But if Fox thought it was too high, they could've just refused. Simple.
So why concoct a fake storyline about "Storm saving African kids" to trick her into signing?
That wasn't negotiation—it was exploitation, using racial guilt to manipulate her.
So when Halle Berry confirmed Fox's scheme, the Black community in North America erupted.
"Damn it! Fox must die!"
"Down with these heartless capitalists!"
"The new century doesn't need pirates!"
"Down with Fox! Down with News Corp!"
The very next day, May 10, the California Black Aid Association declared a red alert and organized a protest march.
It was sudden, so turnout wasn't as massive as other big movements.
Still, over ten thousand people joined.
And since their headquarters were in San Francisco and Fox's offices in Los Angeles, the protesters marched south—a roaring convoy sweeping across the state like an army.
When they finally surrounded Fox's Century City headquarters...
If "zero-cost looting" had been a thing back then, they'd have torn the whole building down.
And that was just the beginning.
If California could protest, why not other states?
What's that?
Protests cost money and people have jobs?
No problem.
Two hundred dollars a day per person.
As long as local Black, equality, or charity groups filed an activity report, Warner Bros. would foot the bill.
Everyone's got a "charity foundation" these days, right?
And those "research directions" they list aren't just for show—they determine what kind of power those foundations can legally exercise.
For instance, a foundation studying "civil and criminal justice reform" can legally fund law scholars to write papers supporting drug decriminalization or abolition of the death penalty, host lectures, etc…
For example, a foundation dedicated to "promoting transparent, efficient, and accountable government" could legally support scholars who advocate for the benefits of liberalism to the public. And liberalism—what is it, if not the best soil for capital to thrive in?
Another example: if a foundation researching equality finds that equality movements need funding, can't it legally provide that money too?
To put it bluntly, the real function of a charitable foundation in the hands of the rich is to wield power—to disguise their illegal maneuvers under a veneer of legitimacy, while dumping all the consequences and responsibility on local governments.
As the saying goes, no one can resist power. Once a person has enough money, they will inevitably start exploring ways to use it.
So when Warner only needed to throw out a million dollars to mobilize thousands of protesters against Fox…
All of North America descended into chaos.
On May 11, African-American and equality organizations in New York, Philadelphia, and Atlanta launched demonstrations.
By May 12, the protests and boycotts of Fox had spread to Miami and Seattle.
As public outrage toward Fox reached boiling point—
That very same night, American Idol, airing on Fox, was hit hard.
The once top-rated show's new season premiere didn't even break five million viewers.
Because, well—watching it made you an accomplice.
By May 13, fueled by Halle Berry's furious outcry, more than fifty Black celebrities had publicly condemned Fox.
Under Warner's "silver bullet" offensive, protests had erupted across over twenty U.S. states.
The unrest even spilled into politics.
A state senator from Illinois, using the Democratic Party's platform, gave a public speech:
"I will do everything I can to win this July's congressional election...
If I am fortunate enough to become a new African-American senator, following in the footsteps of Hiram Revels, I will dedicate myself to fighting for the welfare of all my Black brothers.
I will never again allow Fox's arrogance and oppression to appear before us.
Before that, I ask my Black brothers across North America to unite—because our sister, Ms. Halle Berry, needs our help.
Ms. Berry is a noble person—she's willing to sacrifice her personal interests to speak for our people. We cannot allow someone like her to be crushed by capital."
The speech aired on public radio.
How many people listened? Hard to say.
But within two hours of the broadcast, Fox's headquarters in Century City came under violent attack.
Someone even threw Molotov cocktails.
That forced the Governor of California to step in to calm the public—but…
The governor didn't try very hard.
Because at the time, the governor was Arnold Schwarzenegger.
And his base was Hollywood, remember?
Also, his famous movie IPs?
All owned by Warner.
So, well… "I'll keep an eye on things—just make sure nobody actually burns the building down."
As for the rest? "I'm not going to be governor forever. But Warner… Warner can pay me a pension for life."
Heh.
Wave after wave of boycotts slammed into Fox, leaving it in shambles.
When Rupert Murdoch realized that, in just a few days since the scandal broke, Fox's market value had dropped 21%, falling from $5.9 billion to $4.6 billion, he immediately summoned Fox's film division chairman, Tom Rothman, to News Corp headquarters in New York.
"Tom, if this storm doesn't die down soon, Fox is finished."
May 13, 2004, night.
Murdoch looked utterly exhausted.
His eyes were bloodshot, bags dark and swollen—he hadn't slept in days.
Since Barry Meyer had thrown the first punch, Murdoch had tried everything to control the damage—but he couldn't.
Because not only was it nearly impossible to stop a media storm once it started, Warner's accusations were true.
That meant all his allies vanished overnight—no one wanted to risk being burned and branded "racist."
No allies. No support. Just isolation.
But that wasn't even the worst part.
The truly terrifying thing was the sheer amount of capital Warner had mobilized against him—something he couldn't match.
Warner's media was attacking him.
Disney's media was attacking him.
And since Chris Columbus was Steven Spielberg's guy, Universal's parent company, GE, ordered NBC to join in—because they wanted to keep DreamWorks under their umbrella.
As for CBS?
Let's not even start with Sumner Redstone's ambitions to acquire DreamWorks.
Even without that, CBS and Fox were competitors—they'd love to see Fox die too.
So when three of America's four major broadcast networks were attacking him, not even flying the full Union Jack—no, not even the Stars and Stripes—could save him.
So…
"Boss, I resign."
The weary Tom Rothman took a deep breath, voicing what his boss had been wishing to hear.
"The Halle Berry situation was entirely my doing. I'll take full responsibility. I was the one who looked down on Black people... I was the one who discriminated."
"Oh—Tom—"
Murdoch stared at him, his expression heavy with reluctant pity—but his words were ruthless.
"You've caused enormous losses to the company. All incentive clauses in your contract are void."
"The company will also pursue legal action against you."
"We'll see you in court."
That cold knife of betrayal made Rothman's body tremble.
But in the end, he nodded.
"Alright."
The simple answer carried both resignation and sorrow—like a man forced to abandon his life's work.
As he slowly rose to leave News Corp's offices, Murdoch's voice came again:
"We won't really sue you… Take a year off. Go somewhere quiet. After that, set up a new company—in Australia. I'll invest a hundred million."
Nine figures. A parting gift.
Rothman froze for a moment, then walked out, the weight on his shoulders lightened, if only slightly.
When he was gone, Murdoch let out a long, ragged sigh.
He removed his glasses, rubbed his face, and when he looked again at the disaster reports on his desk, his jaw clenched.
"Damn Barry Meyer."
"Damn Robert Iger."
"Damn Isabella Heywood!"
He tore the papers to shreds, his voice rasping like a broken bellows.
He wanted to tear them all apart—every single one of them.
But he couldn't.
After a few more ragged breaths, he called someone else in—Gail Berman, president of Fox Broadcasting.
Yes, Tom Rothman's resignation wasn't the only price Fox had to pay.
When the entire industry wants you dead, you have to offer a sacrifice to survive.
Why would surrendering work?
Simple.
Capital is greedy—but it's also cowardly.
It loves to plunder, but fears anyone willing to go down with it.
So when Murdoch finally waved the white flag, everyone else stopped pushing.
He might accept death—but who else wanted to follow him into hell?
Exactly.
After a brief meeting with Gail Berman, on May 14, 21st Century Fox held its first press conference since the crisis began.
The spokesperson announced:
"According to the findings of the board's independent investigation, Tom Rothman, chairman of Fox Film, gravely violated the company's equality values in his handling of X-Men 3."
"Tom Rothman has accepted full responsibility and officially resigned from all positions."
"Because equality concerns every individual, Fox will not release any work that threatens social unity. Effective immediately, the company will conduct an internal review."
"Any production that violates human rights or equality principles will be terminated."
"Since X-Men 3 and Fantastic Four were at the center of this incident, the board has decided to suspend both projects indefinitely and terminate our partnership with Constantin Film."
"In light of major personnel changes, our compliance officers from the Broadcasting division will supervise the Film division's audit—therefore, broadcasting projects under their management will be paused as well."
"American Idol Season 3 is suspended. Its return date will be announced separately."
Fox folded.