Contributor: It’s not acting if it’s just one AI avatar talking at another

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There was a powerful energy in the theater when “Anemone” premiered at the New York Film Festival last month. After the film ended, the audience was silent, seemingly stunned. Then, a spotlight revealed Daniel Day-Lewis, the film’s star, standing with his wife, filmmaker Rebecca Miller, and their son, Ronan Day-Lewis, who directed the film. The crowd cheered wildly, thrilled to see one of the greatest actors return to the screen for his son’s first movie. It was a moving reminder of what makes cinema special: the courage and vulnerability of artists sharing their work with us.

The same week also saw the debut of something completely different: Tilly Norwood, the world’s first AI actor created by a U.K. company called Particle6. Talent agencies are already showing interest. Tilly isn’t a real person or performer, and doesn’t experience the struggles that human artists do. She’s a completely digital creation, a perfect, computer-generated ideal for film. She can mimic emotions like sadness or annoyance, but she doesn’t actually feel them.

The difference is striking. Daniel Day-Lewis fully immerses himself in roles, bringing decades of life experience to his performances. In contrast, this is a manufactured attempt at celebrity, lacking the genuine, unique humanity that makes movies truly special.

As someone who’s been watching movies my whole life, I can tell you that truly great actors possess something special – a real kind of magic. It’s more than just performance; it’s a connection. There’s this incredible back-and-forth between the actor taking a risk on screen and *us*, the audience, recognizing something true in that moment. That’s why a single line can sometimes feel like a punch to the gut, or why an actor can completely transport you, taking you to places you never imagined. It’s a powerful thing, and it’s what keeps me coming back for more.

Before the premiere of “Anemone” began, I spoke with other movie fans who were excitedly discussing Daniel Day-Lewis’s incredible work in films like “My Left Foot,” “There Will Be Blood,” and “In the Name of the Father.” What makes his extraordinary talent so captivating is his ability to portray very human characters.

Exceptional actors have a way of moving us emotionally. After seeing their work – whether in a theater or at home – we often feel a stronger sense of connection to the people around us and a deeper understanding of what others are going through.

I experienced this firsthand. Growing up in foster care in the San Fernando Valley, one of the first movies I saw was “My Left Foot.” As a teen and young adult, actors like Daniel Day-Lewis motivated me. His performances gave me hope and helped me envision a better future, which is the power of truly great acting. Actors don’t just entertain us; they inspire us to persevere, dream, and connect with our shared humanity. No matter how advanced, an AI program simply can’t replicate that kind of impact.

People excited about Tilly Norwood see it as the future of movies – it never gets tired, you have complete control, and it essentially stays young forever. But that’s also where the issue lies. Genuine acting has a natural, beautiful imperfection, and it’s this vulnerability, this sense of being human, that makes performances feel real. An AI actor, on the other hand, can be perfected endlessly, resulting in something flawless but ultimately lacking life.

Actors are artists, but AI characters are simply tools. Tilly, an AI performer, can only do what its creators tell it to – it lacks independent thought or creative control, existing purely as a brand. The actors’ union, SAG-AFTRA, has rightly pointed out that these AI models are often created using the work of many actors without their permission or fair payment, which isn’t true creativity, but rather a form of stealing artistic work.

Another risk is a loss of individuality. Hollywood used to value unique actors like Peter Lorre, known for his intense gaze, Dustin Hoffman with his unusual charm, and Robert Redford, whose good looks didn’t hide his depth as a person. Replacing these distinctive personalities with generic, polished looks makes movies less interesting and more forgettable.

Film has always benefited from new technologies, starting with the invention of cinema itself, which allowed performances to reach a wider audience. Tools like CGI and visual effects have enhanced storytelling, letting us create incredible worlds. However, we should use technology to *help* filmmakers, not *replace* them. Cinema is about human stories and emotions, not the artificial worlds of video games. If we rely too much on computer-generated actors, we risk audiences becoming satisfied with shallow imitations of real emotion, rather than genuine feeling.

People still clearly want to experience things together in person. While streaming has drawn many viewers home, successful films still bring audiences back to theaters for a shared, vibrant experience. I felt this powerfully at a recent screening in New York when Daniel Day-Lewis appeared on stage and the audience erupted in applause. It wasn’t just appreciation for the film; it was a shared feeling of thankfulness for the chance to see a talented artist truly put themselves out there.

The magic of cinema lies in its uniquely human qualities – the expressive faces, irreplaceable voices, and eyes that convey powerful emotions. If the film industry starts relying on AI actors, it risks losing what truly captivates audiences. The result could be a hollow art form, lacking both talent and genuine feeling, and ultimately, feeling strangely artificial. This is a critical moment, and Hollywood needs to address this issue now to safeguard the human heart of filmmaking. The future of cinema depends on it.

Leslie Vooris is a New York-based writer, filmmaker and advocate for foster youth.

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2025-10-07 13:33