Everything about That ’70s Show felt like it was supposed to be easy. It was just a group of kids sitting in a basement, talking about nothing, living in a hazy, nostalgic version of Wisconsin that felt more like home than actual home did for a lot of us. But if you look at the cast now, specifically Danny Masterson, the nostalgia starts to feel a little bit like a gut punch. It’s weird. You want to remember Steven Hyde as the anti-establishment philosopher with the cool sunglasses and the Zeppelin shirts, but the reality of the man who played him has completely overwritten the character.
It’s a mess.
Usually, when we talk about sitcom stars, we’re talking about where they ended up—who won an Oscar, who’s doing car commercials, or who just kind of faded away into a quiet life in the suburbs. With Masterson, the conversation is much darker. We aren't just talking about a career that stalled; we are talking about a total erasure from the industry. It’s rare to see someone go from being the "cool guy" of a generation to a permanent resident of a California state prison, but that’s exactly where we are.
The Steven Hyde Archetype and Why It Worked
Hyde was the heart of that show. Honestly. While Eric Forman was the neurotic lead and Kelso was the comic relief, Hyde represented the edge. He was the foster kid, the guy who didn't trust the government, and the one who actually had something to say. Danny Masterson played that role with a kind of effortless, low-energy charisma that you just can't teach.
He made being cynical look fun.
The chemistry between the cast was lightning in a bottle. You had Topher Grace, Mila Kunis, Ashton Kutcher, Laura Prepon, and Wilmer Valderrama. They were kids. They grew up on that set. Masterson was often seen as the "leader" of the group—the older brother figure who kept everyone together. It’s why the later revelations felt so jarring to the fans who grew up watching them. You felt like you knew these people. You didn't.
The Downfall Nobody Saw Coming (Until It Happened)
The legal trouble didn't just pop up overnight, though it felt that way to the general public. It actually goes back years. We're talking about incidents that allegedly occurred between 2001 and 2003, right at the height of the show's popularity. For a long time, these stories stayed in the shadows.
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Then things changed.
In 2017, the Los Angeles Police Department confirmed they were investigating multiple allegations of sexual assault against the actor. At the time, Masterson was starring in The Ranch on Netflix alongside his old buddy Ashton Kutcher. It felt like a 70s reunion. But as the allegations gained steam, Netflix fired him. They wrote his character off. They literally blew him up in a motorcycle accident.
It was a sharp, public fall.
The trials that followed were grueling. The first one in 2022 ended in a mistrial because the jury simply couldn't agree. People thought maybe he’d walk. But the second trial in 2023 was different. Prosecutors leaned heavily into the role that the Church of Scientology played in the case, alleging that the organization discouraged the victims from coming forward.
The Conviction
In May 2023, Danny Masterson was found guilty on two out of three counts of forcible rape. The details were harrowing. These weren't just "he-said, she-said" misunderstandings; the testimony painted a picture of someone who used his status and his connections to overpower people.
He was sentenced to 30 years to life.
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That is a staggering sentence for a sitcom star. It basically means he won't be eligible for parole until he’s in his late 70s. For the fans who still watch the show on streaming platforms or own the DVD box sets, it creates this massive cognitive dissonance. How do you watch the "Circle" scenes in the basement knowing what was happening behind the scenes or shortly after the cameras stopped rolling?
Why This Case Specifically Shook Hollywood
Hollywood is full of scandals. We get bored of them. But the Masterson case stuck because of the Scientology angle. It pulled back the curtain on how certain power structures in the industry can be used to silence people for decades.
The victims—identified as Jane Doe 1, Jane Doe 2, and Jane Doe 3—spoke about the fear of being "declared" by their church. They spoke about being followed. It turned a celebrity crime story into something that felt like a paranoid thriller from the 70s. Ironically, something Hyde would have had a theory about.
It also forced his co-stars into an impossible position.
Ashton Kutcher and Mila Kunis found themselves in the middle of a massive PR firestorm when it was revealed they wrote character letters to the judge asking for leniency before the sentencing. They called him a "role model" and a "man of exceptional character." The backlash was instantaneous and brutal. People felt betrayed. It showed that even the people closest to him were either blind to his actions or willing to overlook them because of their long-running friendship.
They eventually released a video apology, looking tired and sitting on a plain couch, but the damage was done. It reminded everyone that celebrity loyalty often runs deeper than public morality.
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The Erasure of Steven Hyde
What happens to a show when one of its main pillars is a convicted felon?
We’ve seen this before with The Cosby Show or Roseanne, but That ’70s Show is different because it’s an ensemble. You can’t just edit Hyde out. He’s in almost every scene. He’s the catalyst for half the plotlines.
When the spinoff, That ’90s Show, launched on Netflix, the absence of Hyde was the elephant in the room. They brought back everyone else. Kitty and Red are the leads. Eric, Donna, Kelso, Jackie, and Fez all made cameos. But Hyde? He wasn't even mentioned. It’s like he never existed.
For many fans, that’s the right move. For others, it’s a weird hole in the fabric of their childhood memories.
What We Can Learn From the Fallout
The reality is that Danny Masterson is no longer an actor; he’s an inmate. His career is over. His marriage to Bijou Phillips ended shortly after the conviction when she filed for divorce. The "cool guy" image is dead.
If there is any takeaway from this, it’s about the shift in how we handle celebrity power. In the early 2000s, these stories were buried. In 2026, they result in life sentences. The "That ’70s Show actor" is now a cautionary tale about the end of the "untouchable" era of Hollywood.
How to approach the legacy of the show now:
- Acknowledge the Art vs. Artist Divide: It’s okay to still love the work the other actors did. Hundreds of people worked on that show who did nothing wrong.
- Stay Informed on the Legal Realities: The transcripts from the Masterson trial are public. If you really want to understand why the sentence was so harsh, the evidence is there. It’s not a conspiracy; it’s a consequence.
- Support the Survivors: The women who came forward risked everything—their social circles, their religion, and their privacy. Their bravery is the only reason the truth came out.
- Watch Critically: When you go back and watch the show now, you'll see things differently. That’s not a bad thing. It’s growth.
The basement is empty now, and the smoke has cleared. What’s left is a complicated legacy of a show that defined a decade and a man who defined its downfall. It’s a reminder that no matter how much we love a character, we never truly know the person behind the mask until the lights go down and the cameras stop spinning.
To stay truly updated on the legal aftermath or to see how the industry is changing its vetting processes, following specialized legal commentators like Andrea Burkhart or checking the latest updates from the Los Angeles County Superior Court can provide a clearer picture than just skimming entertainment headlines. The story isn't just about a TV show anymore; it's about the evolution of the justice system in the public eye.