The film industry is no stranger to occasional upheavals from the arrival of talkies to the more recent streaming wars. The development of the world’s first fully A.I.-generated actress, Tilly Norwood, has shaken up Hollywood unlike anything prior. Unveiled this week at the Zurich Film Festival by British media company, Particle6 and its A.I. arm Xicoia, Norwood has ignited a storm of fascination, fear and fury. Marketed as a digital performer “born from code,” Norwood has been introduced with a comedy sketch, a strong Instagram presence where she cosplays as a “broke uni girl” and promotional clips that simulate everything from tearful interviews to red-carpet glamour. Within days, she’s become the face of a larger battle over the future of art, labour and authenticity.
At the festival, Eline Van Der Velden, the founder of Particle6, introduced Norwood as “autonomous.” With the use of their backend system called “DeepFame,” Norwood’s “personality, appearance, voice, how they respond and their sense of humour” has been carefully designed allowing the A.I. freedom to govern its own personalities and reactions. Van Der Velden says they are not only creating the A.I.’s personalities, but also “their souls.”
On the broader topic of A.I. in art, Deadline conducted an interview with Van Der Velden and Verena Pumh, Head of Studio at Dream Lab LA. They discussed the advantages of A.I. artists’ ability to act in multiple languages, deliver emotionally complex performances, adapt instantly to directorial feedback, remain unwearied and available regardless the time of day as well as reduce production cost and time by 50 per cent. With shrinking budgets and streaming losses, the financial advantage has been an enticing figure for production studios. They revealed that they are under “a hundred NDAs right now” with several agencies quietly in contact with A.I. tools in art and expressing interest in representing Norwood. The agencies have yet to come forward publicly due to fear of backlash, though Van Der Velden says that the talent Agent Norwood is signed to will be revealed in the next few months, likely the beginning of next year.
The enthusiasm from A.I. start-ups is matched by outrage from nearly everyone in the film industry. The Screen Actors Guild–American Federation of Television and Radio Artists (SAG-AFTRA) firmly stated that “the union is opposed to the replacement of human performers by synthetics.” They also highlighted that Tilly Norwood “is not an actor, it’s a character generated by a computer program that was trained on the work of countless professional performers — without permission or compensation.”
“It has no life experience to draw from, no emotion and, from what we’ve seen, audiences aren’t interested in watching computer-generated content untethered from the human experience. It doesn’t solve any ‘problem’ — it creates the problem of using stolen performances to put actors out of work, jeopardizing performer livelihoods and devaluing human artistry,” said the Guild.
Many actors have also expressed concern and distaste for the A.I. actress. In an interview with Variety, Emily Blunt called the project “terrifying” and urged talent agencies to “please stop taking away our human connection.” Whoopi Goldberg reiterated these sentiments on The View, warning that audiences risk losing their emotional bond with not just art, but as A.I. expands across industries, “you won’t have any connection with anything but your phone.” Others, like Natasha Lyonne, have gone further, urging agencies and studios to boycott any A.I.-generated performers. The backlash echoes last year’s Hollywood strikes, which revolved in part around fears of A.I. replacing background actors and writers — fears now materializing quicker than most expected.
Others in the industry have spoken more positively. Director Zack Snyder expressed little to no concern over A.I. performers in an interview with Wired. He says that A.I. cannot be avoided, so it is important to educate ourselves on its abilities: “you have to understand what it is and what it’s not capable of, and you have to be able to use it as a tool as opposed to standing on the sidelines with your hands on your hips.” Director Brady Corbet has also defended A.I. usage for his film The Brutalist, which won numerous prestigious awards during the 2025 award season but simultaneously received intense backlash.
Audiences appear both enthralled and unsettled. Clips of Tilly Norwood have circulated widely online, generating millions of views and endless debate threads. Social media commentary is full of people’s concerns and discomfort regarding A.I. in art. Some have described the 100 per cent A.I. generated comedy sketch used for Norwood’s introduction as an “intrusion on human creativity,” while others have expressed curiosity and even admiration for the technology’s potential.
The dominant thread on social media echoes a deeper anxiety: if acting can be automated, what happens to empathy, imperfection and the spark of unpredictability that makes cinema feel alive?
The economic implications are stark. Studios could eventually replace extras, stunt doubles or even minor speaking roles with synthetic counterparts to dramatically cut labour costs. That prospect terrifies many in the industry who see their livelihoods under threat. Yet it also invites uncomfortable philosophical questions: if audiences accept A.I. actors, does that mean the essence of art lies in the result, not the creator? If so, what separates human art from advanced mimicry?
Still, not everyone is ready to declare this the end of cinema as we know it. Some experimental filmmakers are already imagining new hybrid genres — collaborations between humans and A.I., where the line between performer and algorithm becomes fluid. Others predict a countermovement: a return to raw, human, unenhanced art in a rebellion against the sterile perfection of synthetic performance. The future of film, in other words, may depend less on what A.I. can do and more on what audiences choose to value.
As the debate swells, one truth remains: the story of Tilly Norwood is not just about one digital face, but an entire industry forced to confront what it means to create, to feel and to be seen. The question haunting Hollywood now is not whether A.I. can act, but whether humans will watch.
