Paramount Skydance Wants to Eat Warner Bros. Discovery for Breakfast


Cue the Mergers and the Popcorn

America loves a sequel, even when it’s corporate consolidation. This September, barely a month after Paramount Skydance finalized its $8.4 billion deal to absorb Paramount Global, the trades are abuzz with whispers: now they want Warner Bros. Discovery. Yes, the company that just finished moving its things into Paramount’s attic is already asking if HBO and CNN would like to move in too.

The reports (Wall Street Journal, Reuters) say it isn’t a formal offer yet. But who needs formality when you have speculation, double-digit stock jumps, and the ghost of Larry Ellison fanning himself with a pile of Oracle shares? The dream: Max plus Paramount+, finally answering the question no consumer ever asked—what if you mashed together two streaming platforms nobody wanted to pay for separately?

Analysts took a break from adjusting their spreadsheets to point out some minor inconveniences. Like Warner Bros. Discovery’s ~$30 billion net debt. Like the fact its market value is barely the size of its IOU folder. Like Paramount Skydance’s own market cap being only ~$16–19 billion. Like DOJ lawyers sharpening their antitrust pencils. Details.

But the headline writes itself: David Ellison, with Daddy Larry’s money, wants to eat a whale while still digesting a tuna. And Wall Street cheers because Netflix exists and scale is the new religion.


The Problem With Corporate Gluttony

It’s not just that these mergers never deliver the magic they promise. It’s that they turn entire art forms into balance-sheet playthings. Remember when Warner Bros. was synonymous with Looney Tunes, Casablanca, and prestige HBO dramas? Now it’s a line item in a debt instrument, a pawn in an $8.4 billion Ellison cosplay where movie studios are bought and sold like used cars.

Warner Bros. Discovery already fused AT&T’s brainwave with Discovery’s wildlife documentaries into one of the most debt-bloated companies in Hollywood history. It promptly cut projects, shelved finished films, and laid off thousands—all in the name of “synergy.” If synergy means “less art, more leverage,” then congratulations, mission accomplished.

And now, fresh off Skydance’s Paramount joyride, here comes another round of synergy-as-sledgehammer. CNN, HBO, Warner Bros., Max—swallowed whole and spat back as one more Frankenstein service with a meaningless name.


The Streaming Math Nobody Believes

Max + Paramount+ doesn’t equal Netflix. It doesn’t equal Disney+. It doesn’t equal Prime Video or Apple TV+. It equals one bloated login screen with four different remakes of NCIS and another Batman origin story.

The streaming math is always the same:

  • Add liabilities.
  • Subtract originality.
  • Multiply layoffs.
  • Divide consumer patience until churn eats you alive.

But Wall Street pretends every consolidation is a silver bullet. Because in financial terms, synergy is code for: “maybe the numbers will make sense before the interest payments drown us.”


Larry Ellison’s Midlife Franchise

Let’s not ignore the family drama here. Larry Ellison, Silicon Valley’s original Bond villain, is bankrolling his son David’s Skydance empire. This is not just a merger play. It’s a dynastic gesture. An inheritance dressed up as innovation.

Larry Ellison has yachts larger than small nations. Now he wants Warner Bros. Discovery in the family portfolio. Why? Because power is boring unless you can own Batman and Anderson Cooper in the same week.

It’s succession, but without the writing.


DOJ Antitrust: The Tired Cop at the Door

Enter the Department of Justice. In theory, they’re supposed to prevent monopolies. In practice, they shuffle in late, review a thousand-page filing, and occasionally slap conditions on a merger while the ink dries. Will they stop Paramount Skydance from swallowing Warner Bros. Discovery? Probably not. Will they drag it out until everyone forgets what the original deal even was? Almost certainly.

Because antitrust in 2025 is the definition of reactive. Tech giants—Apple, Amazon, Netflix—already own the commanding heights of entertainment. Legacy media is left playing hot potato with debt. The DOJ can’t decide if it’s protecting competition or simply curating museum exhibits of corporate dinosaurs.


Consumers Lose, Again

Here’s what happens if this merger actually goes through:

  • Another wave of layoffs hits thousands of workers across Warner Bros. Discovery and Paramount.
  • HBO shows get squeezed into MaxParamount+, rebranded as “Max+” or “Paramount Max” or “Ellison+.”
  • CNN cuts more bureaus, but invests heavily in hologram anchors.
  • Warner Bros. films start premiering directly onto an app nobody asked for.
  • Consumers face a price hike because “synergies” cost money.

We’ve seen this movie before. It doesn’t end with lower subscription fees or better art. It ends with half the catalog disappearing overnight and a notice in your inbox: We’re updating our Terms of Service.


Nostalgia, Packaged and Monetized

There’s something poetic about this whole spectacle happening in September—the anniversary month of Lehman Brothers’ collapse. Different decade, same greed. Then it was subprime mortgages; now it’s subprime superheroes. Then it was “too big to fail”; now it’s “too consolidated to create.”

Remember when “content” used to be called storytelling? Now it’s IP. Remember when a network like HBO was a destination? Now it’s an asset, collateral in a loan. The language itself has been stripped of romance.

We’re told this is necessary, inevitable, efficient. But it’s none of those things. It’s just desperate.


Netflix, Disney, Apple, Amazon: The Boss Level

The reason all of this is happening is brutally simple: Netflix, Disney, Apple, Amazon. They have global reach, bottomless resources, and infrastructure that makes traditional media look like dial-up.

So Paramount Skydance thinks merging with Warner Bros. Discovery makes them competitive. That’s like duct-taping two horses together and entering the Indy 500. You don’t win; you just confuse the audience.

And yet, Wall Street rewards the attempt. WBD shares up 30%. PSKY up double digits. Because investors don’t care if the merger makes sense. They care that you’re playing the game. They want the illusion of scale, not the reality of value.


The Human Cost, Again

Behind all the jokes about Batman and Bond villains, there are people. Writers. Set designers. Assistants. Thousands of them. Every merger promises “efficiency,” which translates to firings.

This isn’t the free market in bloom; it’s corporate musical chairs where every note means another team out of work. And the people who suffer aren’t Larry Ellison or David Zaslav. They’re the interns who won’t be offered jobs, the mid-level producers who get pink slips, the janitors whose contracts are “restructured.”


The Irony of Debt

Here’s the kicker: WBD is drowning in debt—about $30 billion. Paramount Skydance has a market cap smaller than that debt. Together they’d be a Titanic made of IOUs.

But debt isn’t a deterrent. Debt is the strategy. Leverage is the language. If you owe $30 billion, it’s your problem. If you owe $60 billion, it’s the government’s.

So, of course, Wall Street cheers. Because as long as someone keeps buying, the music keeps playing.


The Death of Distinction

When everything is owned by one conglomerate, distinctions vanish. HBO doesn’t stand for prestige. CNN doesn’t stand for news. Warner Bros. doesn’t stand for film history. They all stand for debt management.

Every logo becomes a line item. Every legacy brand becomes a portfolio footnote. Consumers are left staring at the same carousel of content, reshuffled, renamed, and rebranded every two years.

And the worst part? We’ll still pay for it. Because inertia is powerful, and laziness is profitable.


Summary: “Synergy” Means Less for Everyone Else

  • Paramount Skydance, newly minted from its $8.4 billion Paramount Global takeover, is preparing a majority-cash bid for Warner Bros. Discovery, backed by Larry Ellison.
  • WBD is burdened with ~$30 billion in net debt, while PSKY’s market cap barely scratches $19 billion. Financing is daunting, antitrust scrutiny inevitable, and the merger logic shaky at best.
  • Yet investors rewarded the news: WBD shares jumped ~30%, PSKY double digits, proving Wall Street values spectacle over sustainability.
  • For workers, it means layoffs. For consumers, higher prices and fewer choices. For culture, it means art reduced to assets.
  • “Synergy” isn’t magic. It’s subtraction disguised as addition. And the only people who win are the ones already on yachts, watching IP libraries get traded like baseball cards.