Actor Eline Van der Velden calls Norwood a “creation… an act of imagination and craftsmanship, not unlike drawing a character, writing a role or shaping a performance.” Yet in a different article, she adds, “We want Tilly to be the next Scarlett Johansson or Natalie Portman… economic issues are driving the movie and TV business toward AI production.” Which is it—a harmless experiment, or a cost-cutting replacement for human performers?
This is where regulation must step in. If Norwood is treated as art, she belongs in galleries or advertising campaigns, not casting calls. If she’s meant to be the “next” anyone, then studios should be legally required to disclose when a role is filled by AI technology, and performers should have the right to refuse working opposite one. A few agencies have reportedly signed this digital avatar for campaigns, yet nothing has been disclosed. That secrecy isn’t about protecting intellectual property; it’s about profit. The industry needs rules requiring disclosure whenever an AI replaces a human actor—whether in lead roles, background extras, or voiceovers. No more burying digital doubles in the fine print.
Consent, contracts, and compensation cannot be optional in this new AI-driven film frontier. Without guardrails, Hollywood risks creating a digital sweatshop where flesh-and-blood actors are undercut by code. If an AI is trained on a performer’s likeness or past work, that performer deserves royalties, just as they would for reruns or streaming. Not every virtual actor will gain accolades immediately, and the tale presented shows why caution is warranted: in Macross Plus, Sharon Apple is not truly autonomous; in Megazone 23, Eve was created to keep the population distracted; and in The Matrix, questions about the nature of reality itself come into play. These precedents highlight the nuance and potential pitfalls of fully embracing AI in storytelling.
Even more urgently, who regulates all this? Unions like SAG-AFTRA must negotiate clauses to prevent AI from replacing members without fair pay and protections. The current rush to implement AI in the entertainment industry feels less like progress and more like a scramble, leaving human performers at risk. It’s the Wild West: untamed, unchecked, and driven by profit. We are charging into a frontier without fully recognizing the hurdles—just as Lionsgate reported it could not produce a fully AI-generated movie, a reminder that the technology and its limits must be acknowledged before we reshape an entire industry.
Acting is more than reacting. The human body contains subtleties AI cannot replicate—muscle control, micro-expressions, flickers in the eyes, even the twinkle in a voice. Strip those away, and all you’re left with is a puppet show. Unlike puppetry, there’s no human hand guiding it. When asked who Tilly Norwood’s mentors are, the answer is long, reflecting the many performers her AI likeness is modelled from.
For now, the safest space for Norwood is advertising. Let her pitch soft drinks, sneakers, or insurance. That’s commerce. When the goal is to get people to buy, algorithms can do a good job identifying which emotions to tap into. But don’t pretend she can carry a film—she cannot yet carry a performance on her own, especially when there’s no journey for the audience to witness, no rising star arc, no hero’s recognition like that of a Greek hero. And there are no challengers; only a few established talents are willing to sell out, like Tom Cruise and Robin Wright.
If experimentation is the goal, let AI face AI: Gemini vs. ChatGPT, HAL vs. Lt. Data. No human career on the chopping block—just popcorn, excitement, and pure algorithmic showdowns.
The View on Tilly Norwood
