Everyone is using it.
At least that’s the consensus among industry insiders. You won’t hear it from the actors marching with signs in the streets. You won’t hear it from screenwriters vowing never to let a chatbot near their scripts. But if you listen closely—past the performative outrage and the legal threats—you’ll realize that artificial intelligence is already baked into the fabric of Hollywood production.
It’s just that no one wants to admit it in public.
The disconnect is stark. On one side, you have the purists who view AI as an existential threat to human creativity. On the other, you have studios and tech giants moving billions of dollars into AI infrastructure. In the middle? Everyone else. The people making the actual movies. They are using these tools. Silently. Efficiently.
I sat down with Matt Belloni, a veteran Hollywood journalist and founding partner at Puck, to cut through the noise. We talked about why Ben Affleck’s $587 million sale to Netflix didn’t spark a riot, why animation is the first domino to fall, and why “authenticity” might be the only thing that matters in an age of synthetic media.
The Two Types of AI in Hollywood
To understand how AI is affecting Hollywood, you first have to separate the technology into two distinct buckets.
First, there’s generative AI. This is the flashy stuff. Image generators, voice clones, full-scene creation. It’s controversial. It’s litigated. It’s scary.
Second, there’s corporate AI. This is the boring stuff. Streamlining workflows. Better search algorithms. Predictive analytics for marketing.
“Obviously, on the second one, corporate AI, everyone is using it.”
But Belloni argues that generative AI isn’t as black-and-white as the public narrative suggests. He shared a story about a prominent showrunner who essentially berated her writers for not using ChatGPT during brainstorming sessions.
Not to write the script. Not to generate scenes.
Just to get a joke. Or a description of a hallway. Or a historical fact.
“It’s just better than Google,” Belloni notes. “People are using it for the process.”
This is a crucial distinction. The Writers Guild of America is actually okay with this. As long as a credited human is on the hook for the final script and AI isn’t replacing jobs, the union turns a blind eye. They call it “assisting.” The industry calls it “efficiency.”
The Backlash Is Real (But Selective)
Despite this quiet adoption, there is still a stigma. Using AI openly can be career suicide.
Belloni pointed to a recent example involving Amazon. The tech giant held a media day to showcase its new AI generative studio. They announced several projects, including animations. One creator attached to these projects faced such a furious, vocal backlash online that he ultimately stepped down.
“That’s tangible,” Belloni says. “That’s AI shaming.”
Studios are terrified of this kind of friction. They want the efficiency gains of AI but not the PR disaster of being called out for “slop.” This is why most of it happens behind closed doors.
Netflix, for instance, is being loud about it. They recently announced that 300 of their shows use generative AI tools. Why the change in tone? Because they bought Ben Affleck’s AI company.
The $587 Million Ben Affleck Deal
Let’s address the elephant in the room: Ben Affleck sold his AI startup, ImageCadaver, to Netflix for $587.5 million.
Was it a press release? Probably. Does Netflix want to legitimize its AI push? Absolutely. Affleck provides credibility. He’s an Oscar winner. He’s a director. His stamp of approval allows Netflix to explore generative tech in ways other studios can’t.
But what does the technology actually do?
It’s not generating actors from thin air. It’s a post-production tool. It can extend the background of a scene. It can fill in gaps where a camera couldn’t get a shot. It prevents costly reshoots.
It’s a tool for filmmakers, not instead of them.
When Affleck made the deal, the reaction among insiders wasn’t outrage. It was shock at the price tag.
“Holy cow, $600 million?” was the prevailing sentiment.
Because Affleck articulated exactly what he was doing—streamlining, not replacing—he avoided the stigma. He’s doing it the “right” way, in the eyes of many directors like Darren Aronofsky, who are also experimenting with the tech without going public with it.
Why Studios Are Panicking (About Cost, Not Quality)
Why are tech companies like Google DeepMind investing $75 million in A24? Why did Lionsgate take a stake in Runway, an AI video platform?
It’s not because the technology is perfect. It’s because movies are getting too expensive.
Pixar’s latest originals cost upwards of $200 million to produce. Box office returns are volatile. The unions won’t agree to lower labor costs. So, who bears the burden of reduction?
“Non-unionized labor,” Belloni explains. “Which, for the most part, is below-the-line crew and technology.”
The disruption will hit first in animation. Visual scenes can now be completed without hand-drawn artists. Storyboards can be extrapolated instantly. It’s not the final product, but it’s faster and cheaper.
This creates a bifurcated market. On one side, you have massive, expensive films made by humans using real cameras and actors. On the other, you have high-volume, lower-cost content driven by AI generation.
The Fight for “Authenticity”
This is where Christopher Nolan comes in.
Nolan’s upcoming The Odyssey is a fascinating case study. He is famously skeptical of AI, yet his film is one of the most highly anticipated of the decade. Why? Because it smells authentic.
“The audience can tell when something is authored.”
In a world of synthetic media, viewers crave the “real.” They want to know that a human being made the choices, even if those choices are aided by technology. Nolan’s clout—born from Oppenheimer ’s massive success—gives him the leverage to make a $300 million film with A-list stars in a way that studios cannot replicate for lesser-known filmmakers.
Kane Parsons, the creator of the viral hit The Backrooms for A24, is on the other side of the spectrum. He’s made A24 its highest-grossing film, yet he’s vocal about his dislike for generative AI. Would he make it disappear if he could? Yes.
Do studios care what he thinks?
“They care about talent,” Belloni says.
A24 isn’t just a distributor; it’s a brand built on trust. When Google invested in A24, fans rebelled. The brand suffered. Studios know that alienating creators is a bad business move. That’s why Nolan left Warner Bros. for Universal in 2020—after WarnerMedia decided to release all 2021 films on HBO Max simultaneously. The CEO thought he was being “tech-forward.” Nolan thought he was being disrespectful.
Nolan took his talents elsewhere. Universal got the number-one filmmaker in the world. Warner Bros. got a lesson in talent relations.
The End Game?
Hollywood is walking a tightrope. They need AI to cut costs in an era of diminishing returns. They need it to keep up with the speed of tech-driven storytelling.
But they can’t afford to lose the human element that gives films soul.
As Belloni points out, social media is already fragmenting. There’s the passive consumption of algorithmic content, and there’s the active enjoyment of crafted art. Movies will likely follow suit.
We’re moving toward a split market. One part of it will be filled with endless, cheap, generative content. The other part will be reserved for the “real”—films made with human actors, human directors, and human risk.
The question isn’t whether AI will dominate Hollywood. It already is. The question is whether audiences will still pay premium prices for movies that feel made by people.
And maybe, just maybe, that’s what keeps the lights on in the rest of the studio.
