machina.mondays // Apocalypse Now: Hollywood vs the Machine
Gone with the script. As AI moviemaking tools get radically more powerful, the industry faces a question it can’t storyboard its way out of: what happens next?
In this Issue: Hollywood isn’t just being disrupted—it’s being dismantled. AI is unravelling the film industry’s industrial model, empowering bedroom creators to bypass studio systems and challenge the entire filmmaking pipeline. We explore how AI tools are fuelling a new wave of indie auteurs, collapsing the cost-quality divide, and forcing hard questions about originality, labour, and the very definition of a filmmaker. Also this issue: MIT warns AI could consume more electricity than entire nations, Meta delays its flagship model, and OpenAI buys Jony Ive’s hardware startup.
Goodbye Hollywood, Hello Bedroomwood: How AI Is Unravelling the Film Industry's Industrial Model
The old Hollywood machine isn't just being challenged—it's being outpaced, outmanoeuvred, and potentially outclassed by a new wave of creators armed with AI, ambition, and nothing but a bedroom studio. What began as disruption now looks like displacement.
The film industry stands at the precipice of one of its most radical shifts since the introduction of sound. While generative AI continues to advance across domains of performance, scripting, editing, and visual effects, a quiet revolution is taking place in bedrooms, basements, and backrooms—spaces far removed from the gloss and gatekeeping of Hollywood. This transformation isn't just about new tools. It signals a deep structural rupture. The core question is no longer "Will audiences notice?" Instead, it's "Does the Hollywood model even matter anymore?"
A Shifting Ecosystem
The decentralisation of production power isn't just a technical shift—it opens the door to new aesthetic and cultural possibilities. With AI tools increasingly accessible globally, creators outside Hollywood's traditional centres, whether in Lagos, Mumbai, or Jakarta, can now produce compelling visual narratives at a fraction of the historical cost. This shift could usher in a richer mosaic of cinematic expression, expanding beyond dominant Western tropes. AI doesn't just threaten Hollywood's production monopoly—it challenges its aesthetic centrality. This decentralisation underscores why the Hollywood model isn't just shrinking instead, globally distributed, tool-enabled storytelling cultures are outgrowing it. While this could risk homogenisation through shared toolkits, it also offers the opportunity for more pluralistic, locally-inflected storytelling. The real question becomes: who controls the narrative standards in an AI-assisted world, and whose stories get to evolve the form?
What once required tens of millions of dollars and hundreds of crew members can now potentially be achieved by a single creator on a consumer-grade machine.
The complete dismantling of the traditional filmmaking ecosystem is at the centre of this disruption. The tightly integrated pipelines—scriptwriters, production crews, stunt teams, visual effects houses, and post-production suites—are being replaced with increasingly autonomous generative systems. Tools like Sora (for video generation), Suno (for audio), and OpenAI's GPT-4 (for scripting) enable filmmakers to iterate, composite, and render narrative experiences without ever stepping foot in a studio12. Hollywood's own visual effects professionals, like Jon Dudkowski, acknowledge this acceleration: "AI is absolutely speeding up a lot of the mundane tasks"3.
The implications are existential. Generative AI not only undermines the roles of specific creative professionals but destabilises the entire industrial logic of filmmaking. What once required tens of millions of dollars and hundreds of crew members can now potentially be achieved by a single creator on a consumer-grade machine. The new creative economy is not unionised. It's decentralised, deprofessionalised, and potentially depersonalised.
The End of the Middle
This disruption hits especially hard at the so-called "middle tier" of filmmaking, those mid-budget, often more narratively daring films that once formed the backbone of the industry. These films, typically budgeted between $50 million and $100 million, have declined sharply in recent years. According to Ampere Analysis, only 15% of theatrical releases from the five major studios in 2023 fell into this category, down from 27% in 20224. This drop reflects a growing studio preference for high-budget tentpoles and a retreat from mid-tier storytelling. Yet analysts argue that investing in these mid-range productions can help studios better target specific audience segments, diversify their offerings, and launch new franchises. The economic and logistical space they once occupied is now being cannibalised by streaming and increasingly overlooked by studios in favour of mega-budget tentpoles. However, some suggest this neglected tier could be reclaimed—or even colonised—by AI-enabled creators. This could include lean genre films, animation hybrids, or serialised indie experiments that leverage AI for polish, worldbuilding, or multilingual distribution, formats once dependent on costly post-production infrastructure. In this speculative shift, AI becomes a potential leveller, offering creators outside the system tools to produce what previously cost tens of millions to make. It's not yet a full-scale movement, but the conditions are forming. As directors like Darren Aronofsky begin to experiment with generative tools, the possibility that AI-native cinema might reinvigorate the mid-tier space is no longer far-fetched. His involvement signals that this revolution is not limited to outsiders. Its own veterans are increasingly wielding the very tools threatening the ecosystem.
Do Audiences Care?
Yet a curious tension remains: does the audience even care? Will they notice?
This question resonates with a broader ambivalence echoed in industry reflections. Many professionals acknowledge that while AI may never fully capture the 'humanity' essential to great storytelling, it is already proving helpful as a creative aid, offering springboards for ideas or replacing mundane labour in scripting and editing workflows. Ben Mankiewicz, host of Turner Classic Movies, expressed cautious optimism after experimenting with ChatGPT, acknowledging its utility as a creative prompt and admitting it lacked depth and nuance5. In contrast, actor Keanu Reeves has inserted clauses into his contracts to prevent digital manipulation of his performances, citing concerns over loss of agency and perspective. Similarly, writer Marc Guggenheim warned that although AI may not be fully script-ready yet, it is evolving rapidly enough to soon pose a real threat to screenwriters and the diversity of voices in storytelling6.
We may be witnessing a new creative mode: the AI-indie fusion—one that collapses the cost-quality binary and opens the door to Marvel-level storytelling from bedrooms and backyards.
More practically, creators are already reporting the erosion of the "craft ladder." As visual effects supervisor Olcun Tan told The Guardian, automation reduces the opportunities for newcomers to enter the industry and learn by doing. If a synthetic model can do a revision in the style of Aaron Sorkin, what happens to the aspiring writer trying to break in? Voice actors and unions are voicing similar concerns. Molly Kinder7 notes that screenwriters are deemed 100% exposed to generative AI, raising alarms over how credit, royalties, and authorship will function in a post-industrial creative economy. This concern intersects with broader questions about shifting audience behaviour.
To that point, Ampere Analysis8 found that only 35% of viewers say they are motivated to watch a film because of star power, down from 40% just two years ago, whereas genre and concept are now the leading factors9. This trend supports the argument that emotional connection can transcend whether a performance is synthetic or human. Moreover, with younger viewers more acclimated to synthetic, stylised, or interactive media, the line between artificial and authentic is already blurred in practice.
Still, audiences have long demonstrated their willingness to suspend disbelief. Verisimilitude, once a sacred barometer of realism, is now fluid. Digitally de-aged Harrison Ford or an AI-generated cinematic backdrop may elicit critique, but rarely resistance. As one participant in the transcript noted, even if generative outputs aren't perfect, audiences may still embrace them if the story is compelling—people will forgive a lot when the narrative lands.
Moreover, generational shifts are compounding this effect. Gen Z and Gen Alpha grew up watching TikToks, YouTube shorts, and VFX-heavy video games. Their aesthetic palette is shaped by fragmentation, digital polish, and remix culture. The idea of watching a film crafted by AI may not even register as controversial. For them, the "realness" of cinema lies in its emotional payload, not its production pedigree. Nicholas Cage may believe that acting is an inherently human craft, but younger viewers may simply respond to what moves them, regardless of origin.
Examples of Recently Announced Veo3 AI Generative Video Model from Google
And yes—both the visuals and audio were generated from a single text prompt. All AI. Powered by #Veo3 from GoogleDeepMind. We’re not imagining the future of filmmaking anymore—we’re exporting it.
» See more Veo3 video outputs via this X thread from JV Shah
Legal Flashpoints and Creative Resistance
Of course, not all threats are creative. Legal and ethical concerns loom large. Generative AI challenges copyright law, performer rights, and the very notion of authorship. Unions have fought for contractual protections against unauthorised likeness use and AI-generated scripts1011. The rise of synthetic voice technologies—particularly troubling in the audiobook and gaming sectors—has sparked outcry from advocacy groups like the National Association of Voice Actors. As they argue, it's increasingly difficult to know when a synthetic voice is being used, or whether it was trained on an actor's work without consent1213.
The copyright debate is equally fraught. Hollywood has taken its fight to Washington, battling tech giants like OpenAI and Google over whether training AI models on creative work counts as "fair use"14. At stake is the future of creative labour rights in an industry already strained by automation and streaming disruption. If AI models are allowed to ingest and replicate massive libraries of creative content without permission, the entire intellectual property framework may need rewriting.
AI, Indie and Attitudes
A significant piece of this evolving landscape is the ethos of the no-budget indie filmmaker, a creative culture already fluent in low-cost resourcefulness, now supercharged by access to AI. As Max Cea15 explores, a new wave of microbudget auteurs are producing professional-grade films on as little as $30,000, bypassing the traditional industry machinery altogether. These creators, exemplified by Clay Tatum and Whitmer Thomas, have proven that compelling narrative and visual quality no longer depend on studio pipelines. Their film The Civil Dead, made with minimal equipment and maximum ingenuity, rivalled the production polish of far costlier films.
What distinguishes these filmmakers isn't just thrift, it's a distinct process philosophy. As outlined by veteran producer Ted Hope16, the "No-Budget Commandments" constitute a methodology: write for what you have, embrace aesthetic limitations, use every resource more than once, and never try to mimic high-budget aesthetics. This approach isn't about compromise, it's about a particular intentionality. And crucially, it dovetails perfectly with the new wave of generative AI tools. These filmmakers are already primed to work lean, fast, and flexibly. With tools like Sora, Suno, and AI-driven pre-visualisation and dubbing pipelines, their ability to produce high-quality content with minimal cash and crew is about to scale dramatically.
We may be witnessing a new creative mode: the AI-indie fusion. One that collapses the cost-quality binary and opens the door to Marvel-level storytelling from bedrooms and backyards. This convergence of attitude, process, and toolset could represent the next meaningful cinematic movement, defined by geography or funding rather than by workflow and mindset. Crucially, this wave doesn't just resist the collapse of the mid-tier; it potentially reinvents it around alternative toolkits, aesthetic norms, and production values that defy conventional scale.
A Different Future?
To call Hollywood a "priesthood" is to invoke more than industry hierarchy. It suggests ritual, dogma, inherited power, and a belief in sacrosanct methods, celluloid as scripture, and auteur as prophet. But the AI disruption isn't a reformation within the church—it's a collapse of the temple walls. If the rituals of production (film school, union ladders, studio slates) are bypassed, then what becomes of the canon? Who confers legitimacy when anyone can create at scale? The metaphor isn't just rhetorical flourish but speaks to the cultural unbundling of authority in storytelling.
Yet within this turbulence lies creative possibility. Some indie producers, as noted in Raindance17, see AI not as an existential threat but as a chance to liberate filmmaking from studio gatekeeping. Netflix's Ted Sarandos echoed this sentiment, saying that AI could make movies "10% better," not just cheaper18. Artists and creators working on shoestring budgets now have access to pre-visualisation tools, deepfake edits, and multilingual dubbing pipelines once reserved for tentpole projects.
Still, it's worth recognising that high-end cinematic production, think Dune, Oppenheimer, or Top Gun: Maverick, will not likely be disrupted overnight. These films rely on large-scale coordination, star power, and prestige formats that AI can't yet replicate convincingly at scale. Studio adoption of AI may initially be limited to support functions: pre-vis, post-production optimisation, or dynamic marketing assets. For many executives, the goal is not disruption but efficiency without compromise—augmenting human-led workflows rather than replacing them outright.
What emerges is a paradox: the death of the industrial model does not signal the death of film. On the contrary, it may usher in a renaissance of small-batch, high-impact storytelling unencumbered by legacy logistics. This is not the end of cinema. It is the end of Hollywood as its priesthood. Goodbye Hollywood. Hello Bedroomwood.
If AI tools can now create entire films, who gets to be called a filmmaker—and who decides?
PERSPECTIVES
Why should I pay consultants big money to give me an answer I can get instantaneously from a tool?”
—Alan Paton, former PwC partner
Highlighting how AI automation threatens the core billing model of traditional consulting agencies such as PwC, Deloitte, EY, KPMG (The Big Four)
AI consumption could reach 23 gigawatts (GW), the research estimates, twice the total energy consumption of the Netherlands
—Dan Milmo Global, technology editor, AI could account for nearly half of datacentre power usage ‘by end of year’, Green economy section in The Guardian
SPOTLIGHT
OpenAI is buying Jony Ive’s AI hardware company
OpenAI is acquiring io, the AI hardware startup co-founded by former Apple design chief Jony Ive, in a major $6.5 billion deal that brings around 55 top engineers and designers into the company. While Ive himself will not join OpenAI, his design firm LoveFrom will take over design responsibilities for all of OpenAI’s hardware and software. The collaboration, years in the making, aims to develop a new category of AI-first consumer devices, starting with a pocket-sized, screenless, context-aware device that’s not a smartphone or smart glasses. (via The Verge)
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» Don’t miss our analysis—full breakdown below ⏷
IN-FOCUS
For Silicon Valley, AI isn’t just about replacing some jobs. It’s about replacing all of them
Silicon Valley’s latest AI obsession isn’t just about streamlining work—it’s about replacing human labour entirely. From startups openly pitching full economic automation to tech titans like Musk and Gates predicting job extinction, the industry’s ambition is clear: AI will think, robots will do, and humans may be sidelined. While the tech isn’t there yet, the money, momentum, and intent are real—raising urgent questions about power, profit, and our role in a post-labour future. (via The Guardian)
QUICK TAKEAWAY
Even as AI continues to improve rapidly, the central motive remains profit. Companies will replace human workers if the savings are significant, regardless of social consequences. But the pattern isn’t linear—it’s already showing signs of a zigzag: mass layoffs followed by partial reversals when human input proves irreplaceable. As industries chase efficiency, the real challenge may lie in navigating this back-and-forth, where economic logic collides with lived realities.
Meta Is Delaying the Rollout of Its Flagship AI Model
Meta has delayed its flagship AI model Behemoth amid internal doubts and performance issues, signalling that the rapid pace of AI breakthroughs may be slowing across the industry. (via WSJ)
The Professors Are Using ChatGPT, and Some Students Aren’t Happy About It
College students are calling out professors for using ChatGPT to create course materials and grade assignments—despite bans on student use—sparking backlash over hypocrisy, tuition value, and the shifting norms of AI in higher education. (via NYT)
Google’s AI Boss Says Gemini’s New Abilities Point the Way to AGI
Google’s Gemini AI models show early signs of reasoning and agency, with tools like Astra and Mariner hinting at progress toward AGI, according to DeepMind CEO Demis Hassabis. (via Wired)
HOT TAKE
AI-Powered Coca-Cola Ad Celebrating Authors Gets Basic Facts Wrong
Coca-Cola’s new AI-generated ad campaign, meant to celebrate classic authors, ends up embarrassingly misattributing a quote to J.G. Ballard—using words he never wrote, from a book he didn’t author, and even misspelling Shanghai. The quote, actually spoken in an interview and translated multiple times, was penned by an editor—not Ballard himself. Critics say the ad not only gets the facts wrong but also betrays the very spirit of Ballard’s techno-cautionary work. A cautionary tale about AI, authorship, and cultural misunderstanding, this story is as ironic as it is revealing. (via 404 Media)
OUR HOT TAKE
Coca-Cola’s Ballardian blunder isn’t just a marketing mishap; it’s a potent case study in the creeping erosion of authorship, accuracy, and cultural trust under generative AI. By allowing AI to script a historical moment that never happened, misquoting J.G. Ballard with words he never typed, from a context he never lived to see—the brand unwittingly showcased how misinformation can be elegantly packaged and mass-distributed as truth. This isn’t simply about bad fact-checking; it’s about how easily synthetic narratives slip into the cultural bloodstream when aesthetic plausibility is prioritised over verifiable provenance. The typewriter metaphor in the ad becomes tragically ironic: instead of authentic authorship, we’re watching the mechanised simulation of credibility. What’s at stake here is more than literary misattribution. Instead, the integrity of our cultural memory is at stake. As generative AI becomes the unseen middleman in content creation, the danger isn’t just that we rewrite history, but that we stop noticing. The risk isn't AI hallucination per se, but the human complacency that allows fiction to ossify into fact under the sheen of corporate polish.
» Listen to the full Hot Take
FINAL THOUGHTS
The next film movement might not start in Cannes or Sundance—but in someone’s spare room with a GPU and a dream
When the cost of imagination drops to zero, what becomes the price of originality?
FEATURED MEDIA
Star Wars Changed Visual Effects — AI Is Doing It Again
We at Lucasfilm and ILM, we don't think we're just around the corner from one or two people making a film in a dark room by themselves.
—Rob Bredow
This powerful talk traces 50 years of visual effects innovation at Industrial Light & Magic, showing how the fusion of artistry and technology—from motion control rigs to generative AI—has continually redefined filmmaking. The speaker explores how AI tools, when placed in artists' hands, open new creative frontiers without replacing the need for collaboration, talent, or permission. By blending old and new, ILM continues to push cinematic boundaries while advocating for artist-driven innovation in a rapidly evolving, AI-infused creative landscape.
Justin Matthews is a creative technologist and senior lecturer at AUT. His work explores futuristic interfaces, holography, AI, and augmented reality, focusing on how emerging tech transforms storytelling. A former digital strategist, he’s produced award-winning screen content and is completing a PhD on speculative interfaces and digital futures.
Nigel Horrocks is a seasoned communications and digital media professional with deep experience in NZ’s internet start-up scene. He’s led major national projects, held senior public affairs roles, edited NZ’s top-selling NetGuide magazine, and lectured in digital media. He recently aced the University of Oxford’s AI Certificate Course.
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SPOTLIGHT ANALYSIS
This week’s Spotlight, unpacked—insights and takeaways from our team
Ambient AI: Companions, Category Errors, and the Battle for Distribution
The $6.5 billion acquisition of Jony Ive’s hardware company by OpenAI is not just another tech industry merger, it is a declaration of intent. The transcript captures a critical juncture where technological ambition meets behavioural uncertainty. What’s proposed is not simply a product but a new category: a pocket-sized, screenless, AI-powered device designed to exist ambiently in users’ lives. If smartphones function as portals to digital space, this is imagined as a companion, an entity that listens, contextualises, anticipates, and acts. The philosophical leap here is not just a matter of function, but of intimacy. Rather than being summoned like a tool, this new class of device is always already present, enmeshed in the rhythms of daily life.
There is unease, however, about how this vision materialises. A key concern raised in the discussion is whether users truly want such a presence. The failure of previous attempts—most notably the Humane Pin and Rabbit R1—is more than a footnote; it is a warning. Despite their futuristic ambition, these devices collapsed under the weight of clumsy execution and unclear value. The Humane Pin, with its gesture-based interface and palm projection gimmick, promised a hands-free future but delivered a frustrating user experience. It mistook novelty for necessity. What the current team must overcome, then, is not just technical limitation but category confusion: is this a replacement, an addition, or something entirely new? The most generous reading suggests it is the latter. OpenAI and Ive are not aiming to dethrone the smartphone but to create a new kind of companion device that serves a different cognitive and emotional function. The sceptical view is that this still isn’t clear, and vagueness, whether strategic or symptomatic, remains a liability.
Underneath the design story lies a deeper, structural play. The conversation correctly identifies this device not as a technological moonshot but as a distribution strategy. In a world where Apple controls devices, Google controls search, and Microsoft owns productivity, OpenAI remains a platform in search of placement.
(We explored this strategic logic more deeply in a recent issue on AI devices and big tech’s Kodak problem “Blinded by Billions: Big Tech’s Kodak Moment Looms”)
This companion device, ambient, embedded, ever-present, is their Trojan horse. It’s not about defeating iPhones or replacing laptops; it’s about ensuring OpenAI becomes the cognitive substrate for everyday life. That vision demands hardware. But distribution, as always, is destiny. Google’s advantage is its vast architecture, including email, calendar, documents, and Android. Apple owns the hardware layer and has the benefit of loyalty baked into its ecosystem. The transcript’s reference to Apple’s prior success in selling the Watch despite declining interest in timepieces is telling. Apple can make users care about categories they thought obsolete. But what if this time it’s Apple that misses the turn?
One of the most intellectually striking moments in the discussion is the reflection on legacy constraint. Apple and Google, while powerful, are deeply embedded in existing business models. Their devices are shaped not by what’s possible but by what’s permissible within their walled gardens. Augmentations, not revolutions. Any device they introduce must cohere with services that already drive revenue—iCloud, Gmail, App Store economics. The speculative edge offered by an AI-first device is its freedom from that entanglement. If it works, it works on its own terms. It does not need to reinforce an ecosystem; it can redefine one.
What also emerges from the analysis is a subtle but important distinction between interaction and presence. Previous devices waited to be used. This one aims to be aware. It will listen without prompting, act without command, and, at least in theory, know without asking. That raises uncomfortable but vital questions. What are the psychological terms of living with a device that always listens? What kind of trust is required for something that promises to anticipate your needs and track your feelings? The comparison to the iPhone’s eventual replacement of the iPod is illuminating, but only partly. That shift was one of function. This shift is existential. A device like this does not merely enter your pocket; it enters your narrative.
There is, finally, the question of whether this is a moment of genuine disruption or well-dressed iteration. One speaker notes that Apple may be on the verge of its “Nokia moment,” unable to kill its own core product in time. The stakes here are not simply technological—they are epistemological. To invent a new category is to redefine what a device is for. From tools to portals, from portals to companions. Whether or not OpenAI succeeds in launching a product, the very act of trying is forcing the industry—and users—to ask whether their relationship to machines can become something else entirely. It is not the screen that defines the device now, but the presence. Not the app, but the awareness.
Key Insights and Takeaways
A new device category is emerging that reframes our expectations of technology, not as a tool we control, but as an ambient presence that anticipates and assists.
Distribution, not design, is the deeper logic behind OpenAI’s move into hardware. Embedding their AI into everyday life requires a form that bypasses existing ecosystems.
The freedom from legacy systems allows OpenAI and Ive’s team to experiment without being tied to revenue-protecting decisions that constrain Apple and Google.
Past failures like the Humane Pin serve as cautionary tales, illustrating how visionary tech can still fail when its function and interface do not align with behaviour.
The ethical and psychological demands of ambient companionship are still unresolved. Users must trust a device that listens, interprets, and acts without obvious prompts or visibility.
ScreenRealm. (2024). How Artificial Intelligence Is Changing the Way Films Are Made: A Filmmaker’s Guide. https://screenrealm.com/how-artificial-intelligence-is-changing-the-way-films-are-made-a-filmmakers-guide/
Wall Street Journal. (2024). How AI Is Transforming Hollywood’s Visual Effects Industry. https://www.wsj.com/podcasts/wsj-the-future-of-everything/how-ai-is-transforming-hollywoods-visual-effects-industry/c5cc9ed7-6fd9-4e58-9691-127eba648cc0
Ibid.
Faughnder, R. (2024, July 30). Yes, Hollywood still needs superheroes and I.P. But don’t forget the mid-tier movies. Los Angeles Times. https://www.latimes.com/entertainment-arts/business/newsletter/2024-07-30/wide-shot-deadpool-wolverine-marvel-hollywood-still-needs-superheroes-the-wide-shot
The Guardian. (2023, March 23). ‘Of course it’s disturbing’: will AI change Hollywood forever? https://www.theguardian.com/film/2023/mar/23/ai-change-hollywood-film-industry-concern
Ibid.
Kinder, M. (2024). Five Hollywood writers discuss AI’s impact on their careers. Brookings. https://www.brookings.edu/articles/five-hollywood-writers-discuss-ais-impact-on-their-careers/
Faughnder, Yes, Hollywood still needs superheroes and I.P. But don’t forget the mid-tier movies
Ibid.
Kinder, Five Hollywood writers discuss AI’s impact on their careers
Diginomica. (2024). Hurrah for Hollywood! Tinsel Town takes the AI copyright fight to Washington. https://diginomica.com/hurrah-hollywood-tinsel-town-takes-ai-copyright-fight-washington
SoraNews24. (2024, October 18). 26 anime voice actors and actresses form group to speak out against unauthorised generative AI. https://soranews24.com/2024/10/18/26-anime-voice-actors-and-actresses-form-group-to-speak-out-against-unauthorized-generative-ai/
Business Insider. (2025). Netflix chief says the ‘bigger opportunity’ for AI in filmmaking isn’t just cutting costs, but making movies ‘10% better’. https://archive.ph/RRDBR
Diginomica, Hurrah for Hollywood! Tinsel Town takes the AI copyright fight to Washington
Cea, M. (2023, March 21). Welcome to the no-budget era. Esquire. https://www.esquire.com/entertainment/movies/a43358888/no-budget-movies-era/
Hope, T. (2022, November 21). The Good Machine No-Budget Commandments. Hope for Film.
Raindance. (2024). The Impact of AI on the Film Industry: A Producer’s View. https://raindance.org/the-impact-of-ai-on-the-film-industry-a-producers-view/
Business Insider, Netflix chief says the ‘bigger opportunity’ for AI in filmmaking isn’t just cutting costs, but making movies ‘10% better’