Hollywood is having a serious conversation about AI. It is less about filmmaking's future and more about who gets paid. Actor and angel investor Mark Wahlberg recently said he is open to an AI clone carrying on his legacy. This is acceptable, he said, provided the technology is used to "enhance what you're doing." This sounds progressive, but it creates complications for an industry already wrestling with how to value digital likenesses and creative work with algorithms.
The core issue is money. Studios see AI as a way to cut costs, especially for extras, background actors, and even lead performers in certain scenes. Imagine a historical epic needing thousands of soldiers; AI can generate them for a fraction of the cost of hiring real people, even if it is just their digital image. For studios, this is a shift from operating expenses (salaries, benefits, catering) to capital spending (data centers, software licenses). The former is a recurring drain, the latter offers long-term savings.
For actors, especially those not at Wahlberg's level, this is an existential threat. A digital clone means fewer jobs, less bargaining power, and potentially no residuals for their likeness being used indefinitely. The recent WGA and SAG-AFTRA strikes highlighted this fear. AI usage and compensation for digital replicas were central demands. The unions pushed for clear consent, fair pay, and limitations on how studios could use scanned likenesses.
The studios, naturally, want maximum flexibility and minimum payout. They argue that AI tools are just another technological advancement, like green screens or CGI, that improve efficiency. AI directly replaces human labor in a way that previous technologies did not always. This is not just about special effects. It is about the very image of a person, their unique asset, being commoditized.
Consider the revenue streams. A blockbuster movie can gross hundreds of millions, sometimes billions, globally. If a studio can shave off millions in production costs by using AI-generated actors or digital doubles, that goes straight to their bottom line, boosting profits for shareholders. For the actor, however, the value of their unique performance, their 'brand', gets diluted. It is a classic case of value transfer: from labor to capital.
The bigger picture here is about intellectual property and ownership. Who owns the digital twin? The actor? The studio that created it? The company that developed the AI? In Brazil, we say 'quem não chora não mama' (the squeaky wheel gets the grease). The actors' unions are certainly squeaking loudly, demanding clear contracts and compensation structures for what could become a limitless asset for studios.
This is not just about Hollywood. It is a preview of what many industries will face as AI becomes more sophisticated. The question is no longer 'can AI do this?' The question is now 'who profits when AI does this?' Investors should watch how these negotiations play out. They will set precedents for how value is distributed in an AI-powered economy. Companies that manage to strike a fair balance between innovation and labor rights will likely see less friction and more stable operations in the long run. Those that push too hard for cost-cutting at the expense of workers may face prolonged strikes and reputational damage.
What to watch next is how studios integrate AI into their upcoming production cycles. See if the agreements forged during the strikes truly protect actors. The next round of union contract negotiations will reveal if the industry can find a sustainable financial model that benefits both creators and corporations.
