In what may be remembered as the deal that redrew Hollywood's power map, Paramount-Skydance has agreed to acquire Warner Bros. Discovery for approximately $111 billion, with $24 billion in financing—21.6% of the total—coming directly from sovereign wealth funds in Saudi Arabia, the United Arab Emirates, and Qatar.
The final accepted bid values WBD at $31 per share in cash, plus the assumption of the company's considerable debt load. According to The Washington Post, the Middle Eastern backing comes from the Saudi Public Investment Fund (PIF), the Abu Dhabi Investment Authority (ADIA), and the Qatar Investment Authority (QIA)—three of the world's largest sovereign wealth funds, collectively managing over $2 trillion in assets.
This isn't the first time Gulf money has flowed into Hollywood, but it's never been at this scale or this prominent. The question isn't whether Middle Eastern capital will influence American entertainment—it's how much, and whether anyone in Washington cares enough to stop it.
The consolidation creates a streaming and theatrical behemoth that combines Paramount's studio legacy and Paramount+ with Warner's vast library (DC, Harry Potter, HBO) and Max. On paper, it's the kind of vertical integration that could finally challenge Netflix and Disney. In practice, it's a regulatory nightmare waiting to happen.
The Federal Trade Commission and Department of Justice will have months to review the deal, and they should be asking hard questions. Not jingoistic "foreign ownership" panic, but legitimate concerns about market concentration and editorial independence. When a quarter of your financing comes from governments with documented track records of suppressing dissent and controlling media narratives, that's not paranoia—it's due diligence.
Industry analysts are split. Some see this as the inevitable endpoint of streaming's cash-burn era, where only the biggest players survive. Others worry we're trading Hollywood's creative independence for Gulf capital's deep pockets. Rich Greenfield of LightShed Partners told investors the deal "makes strategic sense but raises questions about who's really calling the creative shots in five years."
There's precedent for concern. Saudi Arabia's PIF already owns significant stakes in Live Nation, Activision Blizzard (pre-Microsoft), and Electronic Arts. The UAE's sovereign funds are investors in MGM and various production companies. But this is different. This isn't a passive stake—this is financing that gives leverage, seats at the table, and the ability to shape decisions.
Will that mean censoring storylines that offend Saudi sensibilities? Probably not directly. Will it mean green-lighting fewer projects critical of Gulf states, or steering clear of LGBTQ+ content that could complicate distribution in those markets? That's the more insidious risk—not overt interference, but the slow drift toward self-censorship that comes from knowing where your money lives.
The deal also represents a stunning reversal for Netflix, which dropped out of bidding earlier this week after signaling interest. Whether they were outbid or got cold feet about the regulatory scrutiny, their withdrawal handed Paramount-Skydance a clear path. Disney never seriously bid, reportedly content with its current position and unwilling to take on WBD's debt.
For talent and creators, the implications are mixed. A bigger, better-funded studio means more shows get made and more checks get written. It also means fewer buyers in the market, which is never good for negotiating leverage. When there were six major studios, you could play them against each other. When there are three, you take what you're offered.
Regulatory approval is far from guaranteed. The FTC under its current leadership has been aggressive about blocking mega-mergers, and this one checks every box they hate: horizontal integration, vertical integration, and foreign capital influence. If the deal dies in Washington, don't be surprised. If it's approved with conditions, expect divestitures—probably some cable networks or streaming services getting spun off to satisfy antitrust concerns.
But if it goes through as structured, we'll be watching Hollywood's future funded by regimes that jail journalists, execute dissidents, and ban the kind of storytelling that built the American entertainment industry in the first place.
That's not protectionism talking. That's just reality. Money always comes with strings, and $24 billion buys a lot of string.
