In a video obtained by TMZ, the former Beverly Hills, 90210 star seemed to be surrounded by a group of people riding mini-bikes on Hollywood Blvd. Ziering, 59, then got out of his vehicle and appeared to get into a physical altercation with one of them.

Soon after the two started fighting, other bikers circled back and surrounded the actor as they all started attacking him. The Sharknado actor then appeared to run away from the group as he tried to cross to the other side of the roadway.

Per the TMZ clip, he was chased by the group and apparently grabbed by the shirt, pushed into another vehicle and struck more than once.The Los Angeles Police Department confirmed to CW affiliate KTLA that officers responded to the area at Hollywood Blvd and Highland Ave. around 3 p.m. on Sunday following “reports of a fight that broke out after the group of bikers were driving recklessly.”

The incident remains under investigation, per the outlet.
The LAPD and reps for Ziering did not immediately respond to PEOPLE’s requests for comment on Monday. The actor has yet to post about the incident on his Instagram account at the time of publication.
TMZ reported that the actor was listed as a victim in an official report, and that as of 6 p.m. PT Sunday, police had not made any arrests.
In another video released by the outlet, Ziering appeared to be comforting his daughter, Mia, 12, who looked like she was upset by the incident involving her father and the group of riders.According to TMZ, “Ian and Mia seem physically fine.”
In March 2023, at 90s Con in Connecticut, Ziering opened up about his career during a 90210 panel moderated by PEOPLE’s Andrea Lavinthal. As he shared at the time, the actor almost had a future in reality TV.“Shortly after [Beverly Hills, 90210] went off the air, Missy Halperin, who we all know [in casting], said, ‘Ian, would you ever consider hosting a reality show?’ And I’m like, ‘No. I’m an actor.’ That reality show was American Idol,” Ziering said.
“Not that it was an offer,” he added. “But would I consider my name being thrown in a hat.”
Still, he joked that he “would have been horrible” and instead has his eyes on The Price Is Right.
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John Wayne is a Western film icon and starred in many notable films during the Hollywood Golden Age. For over 30 years, fans saw his name attached to Westerns and war movies and couldn’t wait to see what he was filming next. But that doesn’t mean filming came easy for the superstar, especially in regard to injuries. Wayne suffered numerous physical difficulties through the years, and while filming Rio Lobo, he couldn’t use one side of his body. Here’s why.

Rio Lobo, a remake of Rio Bravo and El Dorado, came out in 1970 and featured John Wayne as the lead. Wayne played Cord McNally, a Civil War veteran searching for two traitors who caused McNally’s unit to go down. McNally travels to the town of Rio Lobo to unearth a shocking discovery.

Rio Lobo was director Howard Hawks’ last film, and it was far from the first time he worked with Wayne. “The last picture we made, I called him up and said, ‘Duke, I’ve got a story,’” Hawks said in 1971, according to Express.co.uk. “He said, ‘I can’t make it for a year, I’m all tied up.’ And I said, ‘Well, that’s all right, it’ll take me a year to get it finished.’ He said, ‘Good, I’ll be all ready.’ And he came down on location and he said, ‘What’s this about?’ And I told him the story. He never even read it, he didn’t know anything about it.”

Ultimately, Rio Lobo bombed, and Hawks blamed it on Waynes being too old and out of shape for the movie to succeed. But Waynes had other difficulties on set. Before filming, he fractured three ribs while filming The Undefeated and gained weight for True Grit. He also tore a ligament in his shoulder. Filmmakers had to film only one side of Wayne’s body because he couldn’t move one arm.
Wayne’s torn shoulder was particularly difficult when it came to navigating the fight scenes in the film. Hawks had to utilize stand-in actors, and Wayne could only be seen from certain angles. Mounting and getting off of the horse smoothly also proved near impossible.
John Wayne had just previously gained weight for ‘True Grit’
As stated before, John Wayne was asked to gain weight for True Grit before filming Rio Lobo. Producer Hal Wallis hired Henry Hathaway to direct True Grit, and Hathaway requested that Wayne gain weight for the role of Marshal Reuben J. Cogburn. Wayne was reportedly overjoyed with the request.
The role came with another request that Wayne didn’t want to give into, though — and that was the eye patch. Wayne worried that an eye patch would have his fans turn against him, as it wasn’t the image they were used to seeing. But Wallis requested the eye patch remain.
However, Wallis and Wayne did compromise on one other aspect of Wayne’s appearance as Cogburn, though. They both agreed that Wayne didn’t have to have a mustache to play the character.
He didn’t understand why filmgoers wanted to watch ‘tough and bleak’ WesternsWhile John Wayne is known for filming classic, gritty Westerns, he reportedly didn’t understand their appeal.
“I was getting anxious because there was this young guy called Clint Eastwood making Westerns in Italy and having tremendous success with them,” Wayne said at the end of the 1960s. “All of a sudden, the studios all wanted Eastwood to come and make Westerns for them, but they were not the kind of Westerns I’d been making. They were tough and bleak. I don’t get it. What do people see in these films?”
With that said, True Grit won Wayne Best Actor at the Academy Awards in 1970. Unfortunately, Rio Lobo didn’t win him the same accolades.
Elements of this story were first reported by Mank’s Movie Musings.
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Martin Scorsese’s rather magnificent Killers of the Flower Moon is two weeks away from cinemas, and its marketing campaign has been fascinating to observe. What was initially pitched as a Leonardo DiCaprio-starring period crime epic has been repositioned to emphasise its story of atrocities brought against the Osage Nation. The presence of Lily Gladstone, the film’s superb Indigenous star, has been elevated. It was recently announced that she’ll campaign for the best actress Oscar, not supporting, while Scorsese has admitted that the script was rewritten during filming to centre its Native American characters: “After a certain point, I realised I was making a movie about all the white guys,” he told Time magazine. No more.

Consider it the latest step in Hollywood’s evolution regarding the representation of Native Americans on screen, a century or so after Indigenous characters mainly served as target practice for white cowboys in dime-a-dozen westerns. One need only trace John Ford’s career to see how it gradually dawned on the industry that this might not be good enough. Whereas his 1939 white settler saga Drums Along the Mohawk (unavailable to stream in the UK) made a plainly villainous obstacle of Native American warriors, 1956’s more poetically conflicted The Searchers ascribed a human motivation to their violence, while his final film, 1964’s ravishingly shot Cheyenne Autumn, was an overt mea culpa on Ford’s part – a sympathetic reflection on colonial abuses, albeit one that still put white saviours front and centre.For several decades, that would remain the industry’s default compromise on the subject, from Arthur Penn’s sprawling, semi-parodic western Little Big Man (1970), tracing more than a century in the life of a white man (Dustin Hoffman) raised by the Cheyenne Nation, to the lively but rather naive action film Billy Jack (1971; Amazon), with its half-Navajo Vietnam vet hero and oddly violent plea for peace. Windwalker (1981), a stately, heroic portrait of a veteran Cheyenne warrior, commendably features mostly Cheyenne and Crow dialogue but bizarrely casts British actor Trevor Howard in the title role.

The apex of this movement, of course, remains Kevin Costner’s Oscar-sweeping smash Dances With Wolves (1990), about a civil war soldier integrating with a Lakota tribe. It doesn’t get spoken of that much these days (and strangely, isn’t streamable in the UK), in part because its well-meaning grasps at representation now look rather dated.Its success prompted a rush of revisionist 90s reckonings with Native American culture from white film-makers, including Michael Mann’s roaring The Last of the Mohicans, with Daniel Day-Lewis as adopted Mohican hero Hawkeye; Walter Hill’s underrated historical biopic Geronimo, which went further than most by actually casting the excellent Indigenous actor Wes Studi as the eponymous Apache leader; and Michael Apted’s intriguing neo-noir Thunderheart, with Val Kilmer as a part-Sioux FBI agent investigating reservation murders. South African director Jonathan Wacks had a Sundance hit with Powwow Highway (Amazon), a vibrant, good-humoured road movie about two Cheyenne men reconnecting with their heritage. Disney got in on the act with its politically romanticised but Indigenous-positive Pocahontas; a decade later, Terrence Malick told the young woman’s story with rather more visceral beauty, and a remarkable performance by Q’orianka Kilcher, in The New World.

Hollywood has, however, been slower to embrace stories directly from Native American film-makers – one reason why Smoke Signals – a wry, gentle character study by Cheyenne-Arapaho director Chris Eyre, in which two young men spar over differing conceptions of their “Indian” identity – was hailed as something of a phenomenon in 1998. Eyre went on to produce Imprint, a compelling drama about a Lakota lawyer (a fine Tonantzin Carmelo) evaluating herself as she works a local murder case. But few have broken out since: the recent, ribald sitcom Reservation Dogs (Disney+), from Taika Waititi and indie Native American film-maker Sterlin Harjo, has filled a glaring pop-culture gap.
Outside directors have recently brought a more empathic perspective to Native American subjects. Chloé Zhao’s Songs My Brothers Taught Me (Mubi) and The Rider brought an elegiac ache to their portraits of reservation life, while Kelly Reichardt’s wonderful Certain Women introduced us to Gladstone – and, in her queer rancher character, a modern view of Indigenous femininity. Old habits endure: Taylor Sheridan’s otherwise gripping Wind River (Amazon) once again centred the perspective of white authorities in a story of Native injustice, while I have mixed feelings about Bone Tomahawk, a vastly entertaining, rip-roaring western that rests provocatively on savage Native stereotypes. Still, it increasingly feels there’s no going backwards: Scorsese speaks for many.
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