Every week, The Lemur’s editors-in-chief handpick a few things worth holding on to. Consider this your quick break from the incessant pull of Instagram Reels.

There’s a strange news item that begs our attention. The first AI “actor,” Tilly Norwood, is starring in “her” first film, and we used Dave Schilling’s op-ed as a launchpad to understand the implications of this development. We are simultaneously cynical and curious. Here are our thoughts. 

What does the idea of an AI “actor” make you feel? Dread? Curiosity? Something else?

CE:  Dread is a good word for it. Online culture is the genesis of atrocious behavior, especially from horny men, and I fear not only for the film industry, but for the perpetuation of strange behavior Norwood’s rise might inspire. How long until “Tilly Norwood’s” bath water is on the market?

The art of film at large is important, of course, but most immediately, I want to focus in on the potential implications for feminism this development carries. Norwood’s “face” seems to change every time I see her. I fear the consequences of an “actress” perfectly malleable to filmgoers’ fantasies. And while computer-generated characters aren’t new, film certainly has the potential to reach far more people than, say, a Japanese Vocaloid like Hatsune Miku. Such easy access has the potential for catastrophic consequences for already-alienated (and alienating) online “gooners” (I had to say 20 Hail Marys after writing this paragraph).

Norwood can’t actually retaliate against strange behavior; “she” has no feelings, so floodgates are open for consequence-free perversion. An “actress” with no interiority, who can literally be whatever the audience demands. The choice to dress Norwood in torn fishnets in a recent promotional picture for her new film suggests the creators are aware of “her” sexual marketability.

(Not exactly to the point, but I was initially confused by “her” supposed screen debut because I seemed to recall Norwood as deactivated. Unfortunately, I now realize this announcement was posted on April Fools’ Day.)

What bothers me almost as much as Norwood’s existence is the press’s reaction: many outlets discuss Norwood as if “she” is genuinely an actress. Using subjective pronouns is intuitive. We’re doing it too, though with scare quotes. But the outlets that gloss over “her” digital status are subtly marketing Norwood in a way that favors “her” creators. Norwood is gaining far too much, and far too favorable, publicity.

AND: I think it is hard to wrap one’s head around it. Similar to Cara, I found myself doubly confused about what an AI “actor” means. The emergence of such an “actor,” for me, is a double-edged sword. While it was initially created as an art form and a vexing conversation starter, I hold both angst and optimism.  I’ll spare you my long-winded musings on ethics. Before I bring one thread of that conversation in, let’s face the reality. Hollywood is on its back foot. Disney’s beloved childhood creations are becoming new uncanny versions of themselves (just look at Aladdin or Moana). There is less enthusiasm for movies than for short-form content. Hollywood has long been an elite coterie of a few people to simulate the feelings of many; AI is rightly disrupting that.

It’s the same reason A24 Studios was created: independent filmmakers like Ari Aster of Hereditary and Josh Safdie of Marty Supreme. So I think, on an optimistic note, Tilly Norwood and the aptly named “Tillyverse” will push the needle to actually make movies that draw people in. Create conversations. Just look at Obsession or Backrooms. It will also empower independent content creators to create scenes that only big studios were capable of producing. That is very exciting to me.

There is also a palpable sense of angst. Livelihoods are on the line. Homogenization of culture. Too many things to grapple with in a weekly newsletter. Another thing I noticed is how Tilly just looks like every other Instagram influencer.  Slim silhouette, black hair, perfect skin, an ambiguous ethnic makeup, and minimal makeup. She is perfectly curated for the algorithm (particularly for men). It seems like beauty standards have been flattened to a 2D screen across Hollywood—and that worries me. There is a WSJ article about how chatbots are already disrupting eating disorder therapy, which is on the rise. In an age of relentless comparison, the last thing we need is an AI “actress” to be a paragon for feminine beauty. 

Schilling emphasizes the quality of empathy in acting, stating the craft is “about tapping into experiences one has never encountered.” Does this speak to what the audience really wants from a performer? Why is the culture even entertaining the “Tillyverse?”

CE: I think people are so hopped up on quick stimulation that we have lower standards for consumption. We’re starting to sacrifice empathy, emotion, and quality for something that immediately appeals to us while scrolling. If some find Norwood attractive and likable, they won’t care as much about “her” lack of humanity. They won’t even care about the inevitable low quality of other parts of the AI-guided film “she” stars in. Those who love AI simply don’t give a shit if their AI companion is glitchy or forgets their middle name; quality of engagement takes a back seat to the dopamine hit this technology delivers.

There’s also the novelty factor. What would it be like to see an AI interact with human actors, or even star in a fully AI-generated film? How realistic can an AI get? Could we be genuinely fooled? Well, AI footage already fools scores of Facebook-browsing Boomers on the daily. 

Could Norwood win an Oscar?

Finally, at the end of the day, film is a visual medium. To expound upon my response to Q1, there’s a lot of pressure from audiences on actresses’ appearances, and (male) audience members will retaliate if an actress doesn’t meet the standard of perfection they envision. Just look at the recent mind-numbing flak Lupita Nyang’o has received for her casting as Helen of Troy in Nolan’s upcoming Odyssey. To reiterate, the malleability of Norwood’s appearance and behavior will prove attractive to a certain group of people. 

AND: Echoing what Cara said, “film being a visual medium” is the key. Telling a story through film engages your whole self. Schilling is right that the quality of empathy in acting is so crucial, yet he misses the mark. Most people do not expect movies just merely to tap “into experiences one has never encountered.” Social media gives us a cacophony of new experiences, punctuated by pithy Gen Z aphorisms and the latest hit songs.  The immediacy of a new home, lifestyle, and personality dilutes the tantalizing search for human purpose. As a result, catharsis becomes a lost art and severed from the human experience. 

While there is a novelty factor, as Cara mentioned, people just want to feel connected. It is why we lean on clichéd tropes, classics, and slow burns. We seek not only to see movies, but to seek out those prescient lines that so dearly speak to our conscience. Whether it’s through novel experiences or a soapy romance movie, people seek out films or actors who can dial us into the time and place of the crucible moments we either hated or so passionately desire to return to.

In turn, I think the “Tillyverse” presents a dangerous notion of what film can look like. Film has largely been a human experience, despite advances in CGI, graphics, and now AI. Film drives human emotion, and human emotions drive a film’s success or demise. Where it gets dangerous in the “Tillyverse” is where that human experience is more severed, and the mutual relationship between films and emotions is jeopardized. 

Fifty years from now, will Tilly Norwood become the norm? Or is “she” destined to become a mere historical footnote? What will be “her” legacy?

CE: Norwood will not be remembered positively. Even as we continue to use LLMs in our daily lives, we may come to detest what Norwood represents— and there’s no paradox here. The common person can only do so much with ChatGPT, given our limited power and influence and our limited tokens. Personal use of AI is usually unethical to some extent. However, AI, leveraged by some of the world’s most powerful industries to produce products like Norwood, is far more malicious.

I think (though I’m pessimistic about current consumption habits) that, in the long run, most would rather see a degree of humanity in our actors than a glorified spreadsheet-formula waltz across the screen. Even if they don’t realize it now. Film is sacred. I don’t care if you’re comfortable watching AI-generated Italian brainrot or Fruit Love Island on TikTok; seeing a film, a real film, is too important for our daily existence and for our culture. It’s a well-established fact that awkward computer-generated imagery in cinema may provoke some resistance at first, but leaves an even worse legacy. (Remember CGI Livia in Season 3 of The Sopranos? That aged horrendously.)

I’m not sure whether Norwood’s creators truly believe in what they’re doing or if there’s some ulterior motive (besides £), but my hope for the culture isn’t airtight.  Some consumers will be fooled. The others, skeptical of the “Tillyverse,” precisely need to desist from entertaining this sort of thing, and hopefully “her” creators will fade into obscurity.

The point is, we may be comfortable with the occasional viewing of dancing fruit characters on our iPhones, but I think most don’t want to soil the art of cinema in the long run. But let’s prevent the long-term from fully manifesting by refusing to watch this “film.” Though some may become fans, let’s re-center ourselves and remember that no one asked for this in the first place. Just because a film can be made inexpensively doesn’t mean it should be made at all. I don’t even want to know how much water Norwood’s servers have already guzzled while “her” “film” is in utero.

AND: Where I see Tilly Norwood in the annals of history is the start of a long conversation. A debate, perhaps. A dialogue between the profit value that comes from AI-generated content and the cinephiles that want to preserve the authentic human value film captures. Even if AI takes over film through actors like Tilly Norwood or, god forbid, Fruit Love Island, it will still be based on real human interactions. And that poses its own questions of whether AI can use content so liberally. Not only is the question of intellectual property on the table, but eventually the recycling of AI content to power AI will rear its incestuous head, making us question how we got here in the first place. 

On a societal level, there is a silver lining. I hope that Tilly Norwood presents a discussion on preserving film. At the end of the day, Tilly is still a product of our Internet culture. In fact, as economics tells us, as AI content becomes increasingly abundant, there will be a need for human film, and we might be on the cusp of a new age of film (I hope it will foster creativity and be better). But unfortunately, this will come at a time when movie theatres are dying, human connection is slowly fizzling out, and HBO Max and other online platforms are all the rage. Suffice to say, I  am waiting on the edge of my seat to see where this all goes as the internet follows the “Tillyverse.”

There’s your Sunday. Keep an open mind and let us (or, better yet, a friend!) know if anything resonates. No Lemur is an island. We’ll see you next week.