Hollywood’s red carpets have seen their share of stars, but none quite like Tilly Norwood. Unlike her predecessors, Tilly has no heartbeat, no lived experience, and—perhaps most controversially—no corporeal form. She’s not a human actress at all, but a fully AI-generated performer, created by Eline Van der Velden and her London-based studio, Xicoia (also referred to as Particle6). In just a matter of weeks, Tilly has become the talk of the industry, igniting a storm of debate over the future of film, the nature of creativity, and the livelihoods of thousands who depend on the entertainment ecosystem.
Described as “the next Scarlett Johansson or Natalie Portman,” Tilly Norwood’s digital visage—a brunette with a Margot Robbie smile—has so far only appeared in brief monologue clips on social media. She faces the camera, delivering lines with uncanny poise, but has yet to interact with other (human or synthetic) actors. That hasn’t stopped her from capturing the attention of talent agencies, nor from stoking deep anxieties among Hollywood’s flesh-and-blood performers. According to NPR, even before Tilly’s official debut, agencies were already in talks to sign her, with Van der Velden touting the AI as a breakthrough in affordable, efficient filmmaking.
The reaction from the acting community has been swift and, at times, fierce. Melissa Barrera and Lukas Cage, both rising stars, have sounded the alarm about job security and the authenticity of performances. “People are afraid of losing work. And actors are right to be afraid,” veteran producer and Forbes columnist Charlie Fink told NPR. The actors’ union SAG-AFTRA, led by president Sean Astin, took an official stance this week, condemning the use of synthetic performers without proper notice and negotiation. “Tilly Norwood is not an actual human performer. It’s an artificially intelligent construct,” Astin declared, emphasizing that the artistry and dedication of human actors cannot be replaced.
Oscar-winner Ariana DeBose echoed these sentiments, stating, “The artistry and dedication and real lived human experiences of SAG-AFTRA performers is what has fueled the motion picture industry for more than a century. Synthetic performers, on the other hand, are created using technology that is only as effective as the content it is trained on. This technology will never create anything original and it’s technology that mines from the work of human creatives without consent or pay.”
Despite these warnings, Van der Velden insists that Tilly Norwood is not intended as a replacement for human creativity. She frames her creation as a “piece of art” and a tool to expand the possibilities of filmmaking, especially for productions with tight budgets. “This could make filmmaking faster and more affordable,” Van der Velden said, suggesting that AI actors might help realize creative visions that would otherwise be out of reach. In an Instagram post, she reiterated, “not a replacement for a human being.”
Still, the boundaries between convenience and replacement are becoming increasingly blurred. According to a 2024 study cited by NPR, over 20% of film, television, and animation jobs in the U.S. could be consolidated, replaced, or eliminated by generative AI by 2026—though the study did not focus specifically on actors. Background and voice actors are seen as especially vulnerable, while top-tier stars may be insulated, at least for now. As Fink put it, “I think that we are going to see a ton of synthetic actors. But I don’t think in top shelf movies it’s going to fly.”
Public reaction has been just as divided. The Guardian published a selection of reader responses, ranging from resigned acceptance to outright skepticism. Some see AI as an inevitable economic tool, a way for studios to cut costs and churn out more content for less. “Of course they will do it,” wrote one reader, arguing that the entertainment industry is driven by profit, not art. Others lament the soullessness of AI performances, noting that current technology cannot replicate genuine humor, timing, or the emotional interplay between characters. “AI can’t make us laugh. It doesn’t understand humour, timing, what makes something funny, or not,” one commenter observed.
There are also concerns about transparency and audience choice. “I hope movies will be marked as AI, so us lot, the actual paying audience, can make a choice upfront, based upon the picture’s production process,” another reader wrote. Others worry about the broader cultural implications—will AI-generated content erode the value of craft, or will it simply become another tool in the filmmaker’s kit?
Some, like Whoopi Goldberg on ABC’s The View, remain unconvinced that AI actors are ready for primetime. “We move differently, our faces move differently, our bodies move differently. Maybe in two or three years it’ll be seamless,” Goldberg mused. “But it’s not seamless yet.”
James Cameron, the legendary director behind the Terminator franchise, has also weighed in, cautioning that the rise of AI in Hollywood could foreshadow a much larger societal reckoning. He draws uneasy parallels between Tilly’s emergence and the AI takeover depicted in his films, warning that unchecked technological development could quickly outpace our ability to control it.
Behind the scenes, the creation and maintenance of Tilly Norwood are anything but automated. Teams of coders, scriptwriters, marketers, and finance professionals all contribute to her digital persona, raising questions about the very nature of authorship and performance. As one Guardian reader put it, “A network of humans applying their industry in the service of advancing the career of something that simply does not exist.”
For now, Tilly Norwood remains a curiosity—a symbol of both promise and peril. She embodies the tension between art and commerce, innovation and tradition, human touch and digital efficiency. Whether she will herald a new era of filmmaking or serve as a cautionary tale remains to be seen. But one thing is clear: Hollywood, and perhaps the world, will never look at a movie star the same way again.
