Dwayne Johnson’s Deepfake in Moana & the AI Dilemma in Hollywood

Johnson himself approved the idea, but Disney ultimately scrapped it due to legal concerns. The studio worried about ownership rights—could they claim full control over an AI-generated likeness? This uncertainty, coupled with fears of public backlash, led to the project’s abandonment. Disney’s caution mirrors its earlier decision to drop an AI-generated character in Tron: Ares, fearing negative publicity amid ongoing industry tensions over AI’s role in filmmaking.

A precedent with a twist

Such digital replacements are not new, even pre-artificial intelligence. In Gladiator (2000), Oliver Reed’s death mid-production forced filmmakers to digitally recreate his face for the remaining scenes, a groundbreaking (if imperfect) solution. Furious 7 (2015), too, employed CGI to complete Paul Walker’s performance after his tragic death. And even before CGI, cinema had instances of trying to replace actors onscreen, such as in Bruce Lee’s unfinished Game of Death (1978), which infamously used stand-ins and spliced footage, resulting in jarring inconsistencies.

The Moana case is different: Johnson is alive and consented. Yet, in an industry where actors are striking over AI threats, fearing their likenesses could be exploited indefinitely, his approval feels tone-deaf. SAG-AFTRA’s 2023 strike secured protections against AI replication, but loopholes remain. Studios can still demand body scans of background actors for perpetual use, raising ethical and labor concerns.

The broader implications for cinema

1. Job security vs. corporate efficiency

AI promises cost savings: no scheduling conflicts, no aging stars, no salary negotiations. But at what cost? Background actors fear obsolescence, while A-listers like Johnson risk normalizing a slippery slope. If AI can replicate a star’s face today, what stops studios from licensing digital avatars tomorrow, sidelining human performers entirely?

2. Authenticity vs. spectacle

Audiences once marveled at CGI (Toy Story, Jurassic Park), then mocked its flaws (The Mummy Returns’ Scorpion King), and now accept it as routine. AI may follow the same path. Rod Stewart’s recent AI-generated concert cameos, featuring "resurrected" stars like Ozzy Osbourne and Michael Jackson, drew mixed reactions: nostalgic for some, unsettling for others. Will viewers reject AI performances as "lazy," or will they shrug, desensitized by technological inevitability?

3. Creative integrity vs. algorithmic art

AI lacks human nuance. As The Brutalist’s editor noted, AI tools like Respeecher can tweak accents but can’t replicate emotional depth. Films thrive on authenticity—think of unscripted moments like Julia Roberts’ laugh in Pretty Woman or DiCaprio’s bleeding hand in Django Unchained. AI-generated performances risk flattening cinema into a "hacky, generic" imitation of life.

The inevitable future?

Disney’s retreat from AI in Moana is a temporary pause, not a surrender. As Brett Halperin, a UW researcher, notes, Hollywood has always adapted to disruptive tech, from sound to CGI, but ethical safeguards are crucial. The Academy may soon require AI disclosures, and unions will keep fighting for consent and compensation.

Yet, the allure of artificial intelligence is undeniable, as it seems to have pervaded all aspects of our lives. It’s cheaper, faster, endlessly malleable; a studio executive’s dream. The question is whether audiences will embrace it or rebel. For now, the Moana debacle serves as a warning: AI can mimic stars, but it can’t replace the soul of performance. The industry and viewers must decide if that soul is worth preserving.

As one striking actor put it: "Actors foster empathy. AI fosters efficiency." In a world craving connection, which will win?