I’m tired of the official stories. Every time a lead actor leaves NCIS, the network releases some bland statement about ‘new opportunities’ and ‘lasting friendships.’ It’s a lie. Behind those forensic labs and high-stakes interrogations, the set was less of a workplace and more of a battlefield where egos went to die. If you still think this cast is a big, happy family, you haven’t been paying attention to the blood on the floor.
Let’s talk about the elephant in the room: Mark Harmon and Pauley Perrette. For years, Abby Sciuto was the soul of the show, but by 2018, that soul was screaming on Twitter about ‘multiple physical assaults’ and being terrified of her boss. It all started with a dog. Harmon brought his dog to work; the dog bit a crew member. Instead of an apology, we got a freezing cold war. Pauley demanded safety; Harmon flexed his power. Eventually, they weren’t even filming in the same room anymore. That wasn’t ‘scheduling conflicts’—that was a woman being pushed out because the king of the set didn’t like being told ‘no.’
And then there’s Michael Weatherly. On screen, Tony DiNozzo was the lovable, goofy flirt. Off-screen? The guy was catching DUIs and eventually cost CBS a cool $9.5 million to settle a sexual harassment claim from Eliza Dushku. When she spoke up about his ‘jokes’ making her skin crawl, the settlement forced CBS to publicly confront behavior that had long been dismissed as ‘jokes’. It turns out the ‘charming’ act had a very dark expiration date.
Don’t even get me started on Cote de Pablo. She didn’t just ‘leave‘ because she was tired. She walked away from a massive paycheck because the writers started treating Ziva David like a footnote. She called it ‘politics,’ which is Hollywood-speak for ‘they disrespected me, and I’m done.’ Even the show’s creator, Don Bellisario, got the boot because Harmon decided he didn’t like his management style.
The truth is, NCIS isn’t a sanctuary. It’s a high-stakes ego trip where you either bow to the lead man or find yourself written into a shallow grave. We love the characters, sure.
But let’s stop pretending the people playing them are heroes. They’re just people with big bank accounts, massive chips on their shoulders, and grudges that last longer than the show’s twenty-season run.
