Kevin Costner Faces $100M Lawsuit Over ‘Violent Unscripted’ Scene in ‘Horizon 2’

Ah, Hollywood—land of big egos, bigger budgets, and apparently, no common sense. Kevin Costner, the 70-year-old actor known for Dances with Wolves and his recent cowboy revival Horizon: An American Saga, is now saddling up for a different kind of drama—this one set in a courtroom.

According to a lawsuit filed in the Superior Court of California, Costner and his production team are being accused of creating a “hostile work environment” and dragging a stuntwoman, Devyn LaBella, into a situation that sounds less like a scripted film shoot and more like a bad HR training video gone off the rails.

LaBella, who was doubling for actress Ella Hunt, claims she was blindsided by a so-called “unscripted” and “aggressive” rape scene. Yep—unscripted. That’s apparently a thing now. She alleges she was asked to perform this scene without her prior consent, without an intimacy coordinator (which Hollywood pats itself on the back for providing these days), and—wait for it—after the actress she was doubling for walked off set in visible distress.

So to summarize: Actress refuses to do the scene. Walks off. Production needs someone to fill in. They allegedly grab the stuntwoman and say, “Tag, you’re it.” All without proper direction, safety protocols, or, you know, decency.

LaBella says she had no clue when the scene began or ended because Costner failed to call “action” or “cut.” The scene, reportedly filmed with monitors broadcasting the performance across the set (because embarrassment is best served live), left her feeling traumatized, isolated, and eventually confined to her trailer like she was grounded for complaining.

Of course, Costner’s attorney Marty Singer responded like any high-paid Hollywood fixer would: deny everything and paint the accuser as unstable. Singer insists the claims are “meritless,” adding that LaBella gave a thumbs-up before the shoot, stayed on the job for weeks afterward, and even went out to dinner with the crew. Because apparently, if you eat steak with the crew after a traumatic scene, that’s all the proof anyone needs that everything was hunky-dory.

Also, let’s not forget the alleged text message she sent thanking the team and saying she was “so happy.” Now, if someone sends a polite thank-you text in Hollywood, that apparently invalidates any and all workplace trauma. I must’ve missed that clause in California labor law.

To top it off, Costner’s legal squad has hinted that LaBella is a “serial accuser,” because nothing says “we take safety seriously” like trying to discredit someone by throwing mud instead of facts.

Meanwhile, the “Horizon” project—Costner’s pet epic about the American West—is moving forward like nothing happened. Part One hit theaters last summer. Part Two premiered in Venice. And despite this legal dust storm, Costner’s still in the director’s chair, pushing ahead with all the determination of a cattle driver with a script.

But there’s a bigger issue here, one Hollywood prefers to ignore unless it’s trending on Twitter: workplace safety. You’d think in the post-Weinstein era that “consent” wouldn’t be a radical concept. Yet here we are, debating whether a woman on a film set deserved basic communication and professional safeguards. You know, the kind of stuff the average factory worker or waitress gets training on during orientation.

Of course, Hollywood will keep telling us how progressive they are—until the cameras stop rolling and someone sues.

LaBella’s lawsuit might not just be a legal headache for Costner. It could be a reckoning for an industry that’s awfully good at preaching from the stage but seems allergic to practicing what it preaches behind the scenes.

For now, both parties are digging in. Costner’s team is lawyering up and going for the character-assassination route. LaBella’s pushing forward with what she says is a fight not just for herself, but for every crew member who’s ever been told to “shut up and do the job.”

One thing’s for sure: If even half of what LaBella’s alleging is true, this trial could do more than tarnish a legacy—it might shine a harsh light on the stuff Hollywood hopes stays hidden behind the curtain.