The red carpet at the 77th Primetime Emmy Awards in Los Angeles on September 14, 2025, became an unexpected stage for political protest, as actor Javier Bardem arrived wearing a black and white Palestinian keffiyeh. Bardem’s bold fashion choice was more than a statement piece—it was a symbol of his public denunciation of what he called the genocide in Gaza, and a signal of his commitment to a growing Hollywood boycott of Israel’s state-funded film industry. According to Variety, Bardem declared, "Here I am today denouncing the genocide in Gaza." He joined more than 4,000 actors and filmmakers, including Emma Stone, Joaquin Phoenix, and Mark Ruffalo, in signing a pledge organized by Film Workers for Palestine. Their aim: to protest Israel’s military actions in Gaza and to pressure the Israeli government to halt the ongoing war.
The timing of this boycott is notable. Just days before, a United Nations commission of inquiry concluded that Israel is committing genocide in Gaza—a charge Israel has vehemently denied, labeling the commission members as "Hamas proxies." The boycott targets Israeli film production and distribution companies, as well as film festivals, seeking to hold institutions, not individuals, accountable. Bardem explained his reasoning bluntly: "I cannot work with somebody that's justify[ing] or support[ing] the genocide. I can't. The targets are those film companies and institutions that are complicit and are whitewashing or justifying the genocide of Israel and its apartheid regime."
The Emmys themselves became a platform for protest. When Hannah Einbinder accepted the award for outstanding supporting actress in a comedy series for Hacks, she ended her speech with an emphatic, "Free Palestine!" As reported by NPR, Einbinder later elaborated backstage, "It's an issue that's very dear to my heart. I have friends in Gaza who are working as frontline workers, as doctors right now, to provide care for pregnant women and for school children, to create schools in the refugee camps. It is my obligation as a Jewish person to distinguish Jews from the state of Israel."
This wave of activism among Hollywood’s elite draws inspiration from history. Organizers of the pledge cite a letter from the 1980s, when filmmakers like Spike Lee, Steven Spielberg, Susan Seidelman, and Martin Scorsese refused to screen their films in apartheid South Africa. The current movement, Film Workers for Palestine, emphasizes that their boycott is not personal—it is not about individuals, but about institutions that they believe are complicit in perpetuating or excusing violence and occupation.
However, the Hollywood boycott has not gone unchallenged. Some Jewish leaders, organizations, and major studios have voiced strong opposition. Paramount, for instance, condemned the boycott in a statement: "Silencing individual creative artists based on their nationality does not promote better understanding or advance the cause of peace." The nonprofit Friends of the Israeli Producers Association called the move "profoundly misguided."
Within Israel’s film industry, the response has been complex and, at times, fraught with tension. Assaf Amir, head of the Israeli Academy of Film and Television, has been vocal in his criticism of both the boycott and the Israeli government’s reaction. He told NPR, "We understand that the people are trying to somehow affect the war in Gaza. Unfortunately, I don't think it's going to help stop the war. It might mute our voices. I mean, we have an industry that works and fights and makes critical films. Most of us are right now under a vicious attack, I would say, by the government." Amir pointed out that many Israeli filmmakers have long challenged their own government, even as they rely on state funding.
This tension reached a boiling point just this week, when the Israeli Academy awarded its prestigious Ophir Award to the anti-war drama The Sea. The film, which tells the story of a 12-year-old Palestinian boy living under occupation in the West Bank who risks his life to visit the beach in Tel Aviv, was produced by a Palestinian, directed by an Israeli, and features Palestinian-Israeli actors. As Amir described it, "Obviously it's political. But it's such a human, nice, beautiful, small story about a boy who wants to visit the sea, even though he can't because he's illegal in Israel; he has to go through the blockades."
The Sea was chosen as Israel’s official entry for the upcoming Oscars’ International Features race—a decision that drew the ire of Israel’s Minister of Culture and Sports, Miki Zohar. Zohar denounced the film’s depiction of Israeli soldiers as "disgraceful" and threatened to pull all state funding from the Israeli Academy. He also announced plans to create a new government-sponsored film awards event, dubbed the "State Israeli Oscars," in response to what he views as the Academy’s political agenda. Amir responded sharply, "The fact that the minister doesn't like the results of our competition, he doesn't like the film and it doesn't fit his political agenda, doesn't make it right for him to just decide that he's going to take our money and create his own competition. It's absurd."
These developments have left Israeli filmmakers caught in a crossfire—not just between global activists and their own government, but also between their creative ambitions and the politics that increasingly shape their industry. Amir observed that the government’s response to the boycott might even be counterproductive: "I think Israel's government doesn't care what Hollywood celebrities have to say, and might welcome a boycott as a way of punishing Israeli filmmakers."
The controversy has also reignited debates about the role of art and artists in times of conflict. Supporters of the boycott argue that cultural institutions cannot remain neutral in the face of human rights abuses, while opponents warn that such actions risk silencing critical voices within Israel itself. As the debate rages on, the Israeli film industry faces an uncertain future, with state funding, international collaboration, and artistic freedom all hanging in the balance.
Meanwhile, the parallels to the anti-apartheid boycott of the 1980s serve as a reminder of the potential power—and peril—of cultural activism. Whether this new Hollywood-led boycott will have a similar impact remains to be seen, but for now, it has thrust the intersection of politics and art into the global spotlight, challenging both filmmakers and audiences to reconsider the responsibilities that come with creating and consuming art in a time of war.
As the dust settles on this year’s Emmys, and as the world watches the fate of The Sea and the Israeli film academy, one thing is clear: the conversation about Gaza, Israel, and the power of protest in the arts is far from over.
