At the Zurich Film Festival on September 27, 2025, the future of entertainment took a sharp, digital turn. Eline Van der Velden, a Dutch-British actress and founder of Particle6 Productions, introduced the world to Tilly Norwood—her company’s latest creation and a harbinger of the so-called “hyperreal digital stars.” Tilly isn’t a flesh-and-blood actor but an artificial intelligence avatar, crafted to perform, emote, and—if Van der Velden’s vision pans out—compete for the spotlight with human celebrities.
Van der Velden’s enthusiasm for her AI avatar was evident as she spoke about Particle6’s new AI lab, Xicoia, and hinted at even bigger moves ahead. “When we first launched Tilly, people were like, ‘What’s that?,’ and now we’re going to be announcing which agency is going to be representing her in the next few months,” she told the Zurich crowd, according to Deadline. Tilly Norwood had already starred in a company-produced sketch video back in July and was now, incredibly, on the verge of signing with a talent agency. Van der Velden, bound by nondisclosure agreements, kept the details under wraps. But the entertainment industry didn’t stay quiet for long.
Almost immediately, the notion of a computer-generated actor joining the ranks of real-life talent sent shockwaves through Hollywood. Prominent human actors, including Toni Collette and Mara Wilson, took to social media to voice their objections and demand transparency about which agencies were considering representing Tilly. The backlash was swift and fierce. Particle6’s Instagram account for Tilly, which included the hashtag #aiart in its bio, became a lightning rod for criticism. Yvette Nicole Brown, among others, insisted that every AI-generated post be clearly labeled as such. The volume of negative comments was so intense that many were later scrubbed from the account, though some posts with live comments remained active as of October 2, 2025.
Van der Velden responded to the uproar with a statement posted on both her and Tilly’s Instagram accounts on September 29. “Tilly is not a replacement for a human being, but a creative work—a piece of art,” she wrote, defending her digital creation. She continued, “I also believe AI characters should be judged as part of their own genre, on their own merits.” But this attempt at clarification did little to quell the anger among actors and creatives, many of whom fundamentally rejected the notion that auto-generated characters could be considered art.
The controversy quickly leapt from social media to mainstream television. On September 30, Whoopi Goldberg addressed the issue on The View, reading Van der Velden’s apology before weighing in with her own concerns. “You are suddenly up against something that’s been generated with 5,000 other actors,” Goldberg warned, highlighting the existential threat AI poses not just to actors, but to workers in every industry. The anxiety wasn’t limited to talk shows. Talent agency Gersh publicly denied any plans to sign AI-generated actors like Tilly, and the actors’ union SAG-AFTRA reiterated its stance: “Tilly is not an actor” and, based on what they’ve seen, “audiences aren’t interested in watching computer-generated content untethered from the human experience.” According to SAG-AFTRA, the recent strikes that won protections against AI likenesses underscored just how high the stakes are for performers.
Yet, as the debate raged, Van der Velden continued to test the boundaries of AI entertainment. In February, she experimented with OpenAI’s video generator Sora, producing two short videos featuring Tilly Norwood. These early forays were just the beginning, as OpenAI itself was preparing to upend the creative landscape even further.
On October 1, OpenAI announced the launch of Sora 2, its latest generative video engine. Sora 2 can produce videos featuring copyrighted material unless copyright holders proactively opt out—a move that’s already forcing the entertainment industry into defensive mode, according to the Wall Street Journal. While OpenAI has struck deals with select studios to block the generation of certain copyrighted characters (think Marvel’s Spider-Man), the company hasn’t offered a blanket opt-out for all artists and studios. Instead, it provides a link for rights holders to report violations after the fact, a system described by many as a “whack-a-mole” approach to copyright enforcement.
This piecemeal strategy has left many in the creative industries frustrated. Disney, for example, is currently suing another image-generator, Midjourney, over its ability to replicate copyrighted material. Yet, as OpenAI’s Sora 2 rolled out to the public on an invite- and subscriber-only basis, tech enthusiasts discovered that some copyrighted characters—like Hank Hill from King of the Hill and Peter Griffin from Family Guy—could still be generated, while others, such as Mickey Mouse and Homer Simpson, were blocked. The inconsistency only deepened concerns about the effectiveness of current copyright protections in the age of AI.
Sora 2’s new features extend beyond character generation. Its “cameo” function allows users to insert AI-generated versions of themselves into videos, giving individuals more control over their digital likeness than major studios have over their intellectual property. Meanwhile, the addition of a TikTok-style short-form video feed means that AI-generated content is poised to flood social media platforms, making it even harder for traditional studios and talent agencies to keep up.
The stakes are enormous. As reported on October 2, generative video tools like Sora 2 are ready to inundate the market with robot actors and AI-driven content, leaving studios and human performers scrambling to adapt. The entertainment industry is already using generative AI behind the scenes, sometimes under the guise of “ethically” trained machines. Visual workers—once the backbone of mass media—are already feeling the impact as AI-generated content becomes more prevalent and accessible.
Underlying all this is a broader legal and cultural struggle. OpenAI and other tech firms are exploiting the legal uncertainties surrounding AI-generated content, often moving faster than courts or regulators can respond. The situation is further complicated by political dynamics, with some policymakers viewing AI acceleration as a way to boost the economy or outpace global competitors like China. Meanwhile, Hollywood’s attempts to safeguard its creative legacy seem increasingly Sisyphean, as the pace of technological change threatens to outstrip efforts at regulation and enforcement.
For many in the industry, the rise of AI actors like Tilly Norwood and the rollout of tools like Sora 2 represent an existential moment. As one article put it, if actors, talent bookers, and studio executives cannot hold the line now, the battle to preserve the humanity inherent to art may be irretrievably lost. Yet, for some, the prospect of a world filled with AI-generated entertainment might not seem so bad—if that’s the kind of content they truly want.
