On Tilly Norwood (Recap: September)

Hollywood has a new “face,” and it doesn’t belong to a human.

Tilly Norwood, an AI-generated “actress” created by Eline Van der Velden and her company Xicoia, debuted recently through a short film (AI Commissioner) and a carefully staged rollout. She has an Instagram presence, glossy images of herself “on red carpets,” and even early conversations with agencies. Her creator claims AI performers like Tilly could slash production costs by up to 90%. SAG-AFTRA, meanwhile, has called her very existence a threat to creativity and fairness, while actors like Emily Blunt and Whoopi Goldberg have already voiced concerns about replacing living performers with algorithms.

So, what do we do with this moment? Because whether you roll your eyes at Tilly as a PR stunt or treat her as the canary in the coal mine, the fact is this: AI is not leaving the industry. The real question isn’t “will AI be here?” but “what role will it play—and what role will you play in response?”

This is where it gets personal. For decades, actors have navigated technological shifts: the arrival of sound, television, streaming, even self-tapes. Each new shift was met with resistance, but it also created new avenues for work, new forms of stardom, and new tools for craft. AI is simply the next wave, but unlike the others, it directly touches on something sacred: identity, likeness, and the question of whether a “performance” can exist without a person.

For the working actor, there are really two fronts here.

First is protection. This is the contractual battlefield. Every performer—union or not—needs to start reading fine print around AI clauses. Does your contract give producers permission to scan your face, voice, or movements? Do they get to reuse or “train” on your performance indefinitely? If so, at what cost? SAG-AFTRA is drawing bright lines around consent and compensation, but those protections are only as strong as the actors who enforce them. Even on non-union jobs, you have the right to push back and ask for limits. Think of it this way: your likeness is part of your instrument. Protect it the same way you protect your health.

Second is opportunity. And this is where things get tricky. Because while synthetic actors like Tilly may never resonate with audiences in the same way, the underlying AI tools are already infiltrating the work. Runway’s video tools are being used in pre-visualization and indie filmmaking. Experimental systems like “Theatrical Language Processing” are generating prompts to push actors toward more unpredictable improv choices. These are tools you can actually use. Imagine rehearsing with an AI partner that throws curveballs to sharpen your instincts, or using AI for line memorization, accent drills, or mock audition tapes. None of that replaces you—it sharpens you.

So where does that leave us? With choices. You can ignore AI entirely, but that risks being blindsided when it shows up in your audition paperwork. You can fear it, but fear rarely leads to good artistry. Or you can engage with it: protect your boundaries, use the tools that serve your craft, and stay educated enough to know the difference.

The most thought-provoking part of the Tilly Norwood saga isn’t whether an algorithm can mimic a star. It’s this: what happens when your image, your voice, your quirks—the things that make you employable—can be separated from you and still generate profit without you ever stepping on set?

Hollywood has always been about owning and re-using content. Residuals, syndication, streaming rights—all attempts to regulate who profits and for how long. But AI cracks open a new layer: the actor’s very likeness as data. Once captured, it doesn’t age, doesn’t argue, and doesn’t demand a fair wage. That’s the existential threat, not whether a synthetic actor headlines a Marvel spin-off.

And here’s the uncomfortable truth: the clauses are already here. We’ve seen contracts that ask for the right to “scan, simulate, and reproduce” performers “in perpetuity, in any medium known or yet to be invented.” That’s not science fiction—it’s paperwork some actors have already signed, sometimes without realizing it.

So the thought-provoking question is less “Will AI replace actors?” and more “Will actors accidentally give away the rights to themselves before they realize what they’re worth?” If producers can legally own your digital double forever, then every future performance you might have given becomes an unpaid gig for someone else’s algorithm.

This shifts the conversation from artistry to agency. Not talent agency, but your personal agency: the power to say no, to negotiate, to draw lines. Because in an industry obsessed with “the next big thing,” your face and voice are the next intellectual property up for grabs.

For the individual actor, that means two things:

1. Contracts become survival tools. You can’t glaze over fine print anymore. Understanding—and pushing back on—AI clauses may matter as much to your career longevity as your reel.

2. AI literacy becomes leverage. If you know how the tech works, you can’t be easily fooled by vague promises or legal loopholes. More importantly, you can learn to use the tools yourself: to train better, to market smarter, and to create independently rather than waiting for gatekeepers to decide if you’re “worth scanning.”

The truth is, AI won’t kill acting. But it could very easily kill an actor’s ownership of their own instrument if we let contracts outpace awareness. And that’s where this all becomes thought-provoking: the future of acting isn’t just about whether humans or AI get hired. It’s about whether humans still own themselves once the hiring is done.

So, the call to focus is this:

• Audit your contracts for AI clauses.

• Decide your boundaries now—what are your non-negotiables around likeness and consent?

• Experiment with tools that sharpen your craft without replacing you.

• Stay human in the one way no AI can: by bringing lived experience, surprise, and imperfection to every moment.

Tilly Norwood might be the face in the headlines, but the real story is how every actor chooses to respond. That choice, multiplied thousands of times across the industry, will decide what acting looks like in five years.

#stayfocused