In rural Hawai’i, a Filipino man treads through the garden of his formative years, his steps rustling the grass. The chorus of chirping birds adds to the tropical symphony as he nears a shrine situated at the foot of a starfruit tree. He stoops to examine a black-and-white image of a woman, her hair styled in a side part typical of the 1950s. 

Abruptly, a strong breeze rattles the branches of the tree, sending the shrine’s items tumbling. The man retreats, stumbles over a root, and strikes his head. Upon regaining consciousness, he finds himself in a shadowy, fog-laden forest, with a woman donning a clay mask looming over him, wielding a sword. 

“Who dares to slumber beneath the sacred tree?” she queries in Ilocano, a language prevalent in Hawaii’s Filipino community, while the sword hovers at his throat. He admits to feeling disoriented and makes an attempt to escape. She pursues him, alternating between sprinting and gliding through the air. He falls once more. She presses on, sword raised high. In an act of desperation, he throws a stone, shattering her clay mask and unveiling half of her face. 

“Mom?” he inquires. 

This marks the beginning of “Murmuray,” a short film crafted by independent director Brad Tangonan. Every aspect of this film resonated with his previous creations, from the richly tactile nature scenes to the dreamlike, softly muted highlights. 

The singular distinction? He produced it using AI. 

Tangonan was among ten filmmakers selected for Google Flow Sessions, a five-week initiative that provided artists with access to Google’s suite of AI tools to create short films, including Gemini, image generator Nano Banana Pro, and film generator Veo.   

Each film showcased a distinct perspective. Hal Watmough’s “You’ve Been Here Before” mixed hyperrealistic, lifelike imagery with playful cartoon elements to whimsically delve into the significance of a morning routine, whereas Tabitha Swanson’s “The Antidote to Fear is Curiosity” presented a more abstract, philosophical dialogue regarding the interplay between AI and our identities. 

None of the short films, showcased at Soho House New York late last year, felt like mere AI creations. Every independent filmmaker I interviewed stated that in these instances, AI empowered them to narrate stories they wouldn’t have been able to share due to budgetary or temporal constraints. 

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“I perceive all these tools, whether it’s a camera or generative AI, as instruments for an artist to convey their vision,” Tangonan shared with me after the screenings. 

This viewpoint that AI is merely another instrument for creators is evidently the message that Google is keen to promote. Google is correct; as video generation technologies advance, AI will increasingly integrate into a creator’s toolkit. 

By 2025, firms like Google, Runway, OpenAI, Kling, Luma AI, and Higgsfield had evolved significantly beyond the uncanny, prompt-driven novelties of the preceding year. The AI video sector, backed by billions in venture capital, is transitioning from prototype phase to post-production.

This age of AI proliferation that promises to “democratize access” to the film industry simultaneously threatens to diminish jobs and creativity, smothering them beneath an avalanche of low-quality work. The existential repercussions have pitted creatives against one another. Those who embrace AI might be regarded as complicit; those who abstain face the risk of obsolescence. 

The dilemma isn’t whether these tools should be part of the toolkit — they are arriving, whether welcomed or not. The critical inquiry should be: What type of filmmaking will endure when the industry prioritizes speed and volume over quality? And what transpires when individual creators wield these tools to craft works of genuine significance?

But is it slop?

Numerous criticisms against AI in filmmaking have surfaced — even from some of the industry’s most renowned figures. 

Filmmaker Guillermo del Toro stated last October that he would prefer death over employing generative AI in filmmaking. James Cameron expressed in a recent CBS interview that the notion of generating actors and emotions through prompts is “terrifying,” suggesting that generative AI merely regurgitates a composite average of all that humanity has previously created. 

Werner Herzog remarked that the films he has observed generated by AI “lack soul.” He noted: “The common denominator, and nothing beyond this common denominator, can be identified in these creations.”

Cameron and Herzog contend that AI is seizing creative control from humans and cannot possibly depict their personal lived experiences. 

“It’s simple to harbor anger toward AI as an abstract concept, but it’s more challenging to resent an individual who has crafted something intimate,” Watmough commented to TechCrunch. 

Tangonan, who categorizes “Murmuray” as a “family narrative,” aligns with that viewpoint. 

“AI acts as a facilitator,” Tangonan expressed. “I’m the one making all the creative choices. When viewers come across ‘AI slop’ online, it’s often just the lowest common denominator material. And, yes, if you relinquish control to AI, that’s what you’ll receive. But if you retain your unique voice, perspective, and style, you’ll end up with something distinctive.” 

Utilizing AI in filmmaking goes beyond merely prompting a film into existence. For instance, Tangonan wrote the script for “Murmuray” independently and compiled visual references for his shot list. He then input that material into Nano Banana Pro to create images that aligned with his aesthetic, serving as a basis for video production.  

Filmmaker Keenan MacWilliam also took care to ensure her short film “Mimesis,” a fictional guided meditation, was a “true extension of [her] visual style, rather than a ‘blender’ of other creators’ works.”

MacWilliam scripted and recorded her own narration for the meditation, which was both relaxing and amusing. On-screen, against a dark, watery background, psychedelic visuals of flowers and plants merged, transformed into smoke, morphed into seahorses, and swam away.

All visuals were sourced from MacWilliam’s personal collection of scanned flora and fauna — she takes her scanner wherever she goes. 

“I dedicated significant time to mastering apps that utilized my own dataset, which I then referenced,” MacWilliam informed TechCrunch, noting that she collaborated with her long-time composer and sound designer on the project. “I opted to avoid using AI for anything that I could have filmed or could have asked my collaborators to animate. My objective was to unveil new forms of expression for my established themes and style, not to replace the roles of those I enjoy working with.”

This desire to leverage AI only when collaboration with other humans was unfeasible or when the peculiar nature of AI output complemented the story was a recurring theme among the filmmakers I spoke to at the Google Flow event.

For instance, Sander van Bellegem’s “Melongray” delved into life’s acceleration through mesmerizing visualizations. In one scene, a salamander transforms into a balloon. Although not part of his original script, he was inspired by AI’s capability to push the boundaries of imagination and physics. 

To be [efficient] or not to be?

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Contemporary film studio budgets are being strained by escalating filming expenses, the transition to streaming, and corporate consolidation marked by risk aversion. Consequently, substantial investments are reserved for safe revenue streams (consider: yet another Marvel movie), while original mid-budget films have nearly vanished. 

Integrating AI into the equation risks intensifying studios’ scarcity mindset to the extent that they may attempt to eliminate anything that can be — actors, sets, lighting — disregarding art and quality. However, the efficiencies afforded by AI could potentially lower barriers, making it feasible for film studios to create original works. 

Cameron himself acknowledged in his CBS interview that generative AI could reduce the costs of visual effects, potentially paving the way for more imaginative science fiction and fantasy films — ventures that are currently reserved for established intellectual properties like “Avatar.”

The scene in “Murmuray” featuring the woman soaring through the forest would have necessitated costly visual effects or complex rigging on set, both of which were beyond the budget of a short film, according to Tangonan. 

Nevertheless, even filmmakers who recognize the advantages of efficiency comprehend the potential threats to artistic expression. 

“In general, I believe that efficiency does not foster creativity,” MacWilliam remarked.  

Empowered and isolated

For independent filmmakers, having access to such potent tools is both a blessing and a curse. It does “democratize access,” indeed, but it also results in solitary work. The more one can accomplish independently, the lesser the incentive to collaborate. 

“I recognize that I’m a one-man show, and I’ve created all this on my own…but that should never represent how anyone narrates a story or produces a film,” Watmough mentioned to TechCrunch, acknowledging that a friend who is an actor lent his voice for his short. “It ought to be a collaborative endeavor because greater involvement leads to broader accessibility and deeper connection with the audience.”

Directors make creative choices, but they don’t make all of them. The filmmakers I consulted found themselves unexpectedly taking on roles such as set designer, lighting director, and costumer — responsibilities requiring skills they lacked. This was exhausting and distracting, diverting them from the work they genuinely cared about. It was disconcerting to consider how an entire creative ecosystem could be so rapidly disrupted. 

The filmmakers I spoke to voiced their preference not to substitute actors with AI, although some acknowledged that AI-generated performers seem inevitable for smaller studios. The technology for generating actors, their emotions, and movements already exists and continues to improve. AI video startups like Luma AI, which raised a staggering $900 million Series C last November, are developing technologies that allow for an actor’s performance to be captured once, only to use AI to alter the character, attire, and setting. 

“Ideally, I would collaborate with live actors, cinematographers, department heads, and the full crew to create something extraordinary, utilizing AI to complement our efforts where on-set limitations arise, whether due to budget constraints or time,” Tangonan stated. 

If artists don’t define AI, studios will

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“Creating any artistic work that incorporates new technology necessitates a level of introspection and a readiness to engage in dialogue surrounding the work,” MacWilliam remarked.

“These are tools,” she added. “How will you wield the tool? Will you maintain ethical standards? Will you raise pertinent questions? Will you be open and share knowledge?”

However, many individuals do not perceive AI tools as neutral. Beyond labor replacement issues, copyright dilemmas persist. AI video generation startup Runway reportedly scraped thousands of hours of YouTube videos and copyrighted media, while entities like Google, OpenAI, and Luma AI have faced scrutiny for potentially using copyrighted films and stock footage without consent. (Some tools, like Moonvalley’s Marey, exclusively utilize openly licensed data.) Furthermore, the environmental implications are alarming — some estimates indicate that generating mere seconds of AI video could consume as much electricity as several hours of streaming. 

Unsurprisingly, numerous filmmakers I consulted mentioned facing stigma for exploring AI use. 

“Whenever I post content online, many of my filmmaking peers display an immediate, reflexive response advocating that we should all adhere to the principle of not using any of these tools,” Tangonan remarked. “I simply disagree with that.” 

If filmmakers shy away from discussing how AI can be employed ethically, the conversation may end up being dictated by those who prioritize efficiency over art, rather than by artists seeking responsible utilization.

“The film industry is struggling because innovation is lacking and costs are spiraling. We require tools like this for it to thrive,” Watmough asserted. “It’s crucial that individuals engage with AI because if we don’t, it will evolve into something unrecognizable, and that lack of sustainability is concerning.”

Correction: An earlier version of this article incorrectly identified Ilocano as a Hawaiian dialect of Filipino. Ilocano is a language originating from the northern Philippines and is commonly spoken amongst Filipino communities in Hawaii.