From sci-fi satire to industry reality, the debut of an AI-generated actress sparks wonder, fear, and a fierce debate over the future of human creativity.
- Life Imitates Art: Two decades after the movie S1m0ne, the arrival of Tilly Norwood—a fully AI-generated actress—has moved artificial talent from satire to reality, triggering diverse reactions from Hollywood A-listers.
- The Ethical Divide: While creators argue for a distinct “AI genre” meant to coexist with humans, unions like SAG-AFTRA are drawing hard lines against data scraping and the replacement of human-centered artistry.
- The Business of Innovation: Despite the controversy, executives see a transformative “friend” in AI, capable of generating global ad campaigns in days without cameras, actors, or locations.
At the dawn of the 21st century, Al Pacino starred in S1m0ne, a satire about a desperate director who manufactures a computer-generated starlet to save his career. Fast forward nearly 25 years, and the satire has calcified into reality. Enter Tilly Norwood, a new face in Hollywood who never sleeps, never ages, and was born entirely from code.
The “Scarlett Johansson” of Code
Tilly’s creator, Eline van der Velden, a former actor and comedienne herself, seemed almost surprised by the intensity of the backlash. “I had created her to become a global superstar,” she admits, aiming to show the industry that generative AI is ready for its close-up.
However, bringing a digital human to life was not an overnight script. It took van der Velden’s team roughly 2,000 iterations to sculpt Tilly’s look, followed by a rigorous process of “teaching” her to act. Early tests were admittedly flat—”It was not up to my standards at all,” van der Velden noted—but the rapid evolution of the technology has emboldened the team’s ambitions.
Van der Velden describes Tilly as the potential “Scarlett Johansson of the AI genre.” Yet, she draws a critical distinction that often gets lost in the noise: Tilly is not intended to steal jobs in traditional cinema.
“She’s not meant to take real acting jobs in the traditional film and TV industry. She’s meant to stay in her own AI genre, and that’s where we want her to stay.”
To back this up, van der Velden claims her firm has rejected multiple offers to cast Tilly opposite real actors.
Pushing the Envelope vs. Tearing It Up
Despite these assurances, the labor force is wary. Sean Astin, president of the actors’ union SAG-AFTRA, views the current landscape as a “tsunami.” For the union, the “onslaught” of AI products feels overwhelming, and the goal now is to “surf the wave” rather than drown in it.
Astin refuses to use the term “actress” for Tilly, preferring labels like “avatar” or “character.” “She—she? It?—simply will not replace our people,” Astin asserts.
The friction point lies in how these models are built. Following the contentious 2023 strike, safeguarding a performer’s name, image, and likeness from unauthorized harvesting is a top priority. While Astin acknowledges van der Velden’s right to use open-source data, he draws a line in the sand regarding companies that scrape the internet to ingest copyrighted human performances.
“There’s a difference between pushing the envelope and tearing it up,” Astin explains. He applauds human-centered collaboration but condemns the mindset of studios simply looking for a cheaper, easier alternative to hiring humans.
Friend, Foe, or the Bottom Line?
While actors worry about their craft, producers facing ballooning budgets view the technology through a different lens. Kevin Reilly, former entertainment executive and current CEO of Kartel.ai, describes the industry mood as a mix of excitement, confusion, and fear.
“Is it a friend, or is it a foe? It is, in my opinion, very much a friend,” Reilly says, calling AI perhaps the most transformative shift in human history. He admits that for studios and streaming platforms, the motivation is often the bottom line. “They are businesses,” he notes bluntly.
The creative upside for these businesses is undeniable. Kartel.ai demonstrated this power with a concept commercial titled “Cup of Jo.” Generative engineer Fillip Isgro built an entire ad campaign by scraping a subject’s Instagram (with permission) to generate a digital likeness. Within days, he placed the character in a coffee shop on a barge, a Hawaiian volcano, and the Swiss Alps—all without leaving the office.
“Imagine having to go and shoot that,” Isgro said, highlighting the flexibility. “In this world, we can iterate indefinitely without repercussion.”
The Cliffhanger
We are left witnessing the story of our time: a high-stakes tug-of-war. On one side, creators like van der Velden ask how we can use this inevitable tech as a “force for good.” On the other, staunch defenders of humanity like Sean Astin insist that “artificial intelligence will never replace us.”
As AI-generated scenes creep into shows like Amazon’s House of David and digital models grace the pages of Vogue, the boundary between the real and the generated continues to blur. Hollywood is currently living through a cliffhanger, waiting to see if the industry will successfully surf the wave, or be washed away by it.