Leguizamo’s post didn’t arrive in a vacuum; it landed in the middle of a raw, grieving country. The deaths of Renée Good and Alex Pretti in ICE-related incidents had already shaken Minneapolis and ignited social media. When he told ICE supporters to unfollow him and stay away from his work, it wasn’t a casual political aside, but a deliberate break with anyone he believes stands with the agency he condemns.

The fallout showed how costly that choice could be. Some fans called him brave, thanking him for risking his career to speak for families in pain. Others mocked him, promised to boycott his movies, or insisted they’d keep streaming his work while backing ICE anyway. Public figures like radio host Joe Pagliarulo piled on, questioning his intelligence and relevance. Yet amid the insults and sarcasm, one theme emerged: Leguizamo is willing to lose part of his audience rather than stay silent about what he sees as injustice, accepting the personal and professional consequences that follow.