Tag: Broadway

The Final Consolidation: Hollywood as Intellectual Property Vault

I have written about this thesis before — more than once. But the idea continues to feel underexamined relative to its inevitability, so it warrants another articulation.

The next and likely final wave of consolidation in Hollywood will occur when technology companies — most probably those leading the development of generative AI — acquire the major studios outright. When that transaction happens, it will mark a fundamental shift in what a studio is. Rather than functioning as content production engines, studios will become intellectual property holding companies. Their value will lie not in the films they produce, but in the libraries they own.

The mechanism is straightforward. As AI-driven personalization tools mature — what Apple once called the Knowledge Navigator, and what will almost certainly emerge under various names in the coming decade — individual audience members will be able to generate bespoke, hyper-personalized versions of existing intellectual property on demand. The studio’s role will be to license the raw material. The audience’s role will be to shape it.

Within twenty years, this model could turn a single actor’s filmography into an infinite creative substrate. Consider Harrison Ford: audiences will be able to generate an unlimited number of new performances featuring a young Ford in variations of his most iconic roles — or in entirely new scenarios built from the same DNA. The original films become source code rather than finished product.

This outcome may, paradoxically, resolve the fatigue audiences currently experience around franchises like Star Wars. The expanded universe contains hundreds of secondary and tertiary characters whose stories remain untold in any feature-length form. Under the current studio model, most of those stories will never be greenlit. Under an AI-personalized model, any audience member who wants a feature-length film centered on Dengar or Nien Nunb can simply commission one.

That, in essence, is the future of Hollywood.

One significant question remains unresolved: what happens to the human beings who would otherwise have become movie stars?

My view — which I have articulated in various forms across several previous posts — is that their primary stage will shift to Broadway and live theatre. The theatre will become the venue where new stars are born, where audiences discover the charisma and presence that no algorithm can fabricate. Live performance will serve as the audition reel for a new kind of celebrity.

The economic model will follow accordingly. Emerging performers will eventually undergo full-body digital scans, licensing their likenesses for use in AI-generated content. The passive income derived from that licensing — their digital selves appearing in thousands of personalized films — will constitute a substantial and ongoing revenue stream, potentially exceeding what any single theatrical run could generate.

I recognize that this argument has, to date, found a limited audience. I have made it repeatedly, in various registers, and it has not yet gained traction. Perhaps one day it will.

Hollywood Is Cooked (And Broadway Is the Future)

Hollywood as we know it is over. Not dying — over. The studios will survive, but they will survive as IP holding companies, their catalogues of characters and worlds licensed to AI platforms the way music publishers license songs. The actual work of making movies — casting, directing, performing, writing — will be absorbed by what I’ve been calling the Knowledge Navigator: a personalized AI content engine that generates bespoke entertainment from existing IP on demand.

Why watch the canonical Godfather when your Navigator generates a version tuned to your specific emotional frequency, running exactly the right length, in whatever cultural setting makes it land hardest for you personally? The IP is the asset. The humans who made it are a sunk cost.

This is not distant. The studios already know it. The smart ones are positioning their catalogues accordingly.

But here’s what everyone gets wrong about what comes next: they assume this kills stardom. It doesn’t. It relocates it.

Tom Hanks will still exist. He’ll just be on Broadway.

Live theatre becomes the last room where the human has to show up and prove it in real time. No AI on that stage. No algorithm smoothing the rough edges. You’re in the room, the actor is in the room, and something happens that cannot be generated or personalized or optimized. That’s not a weakness of theatre — that becomes its entire value proposition. The certificate of authenticity in an ocean of bespoke content.

Broadway becomes the star-making machine. Hollywood — Neo-Hollywood — becomes the scanning facility.

Here’s how the pipeline works: a performer builds genuine charisma and cultural presence on stage, in front of real humans who chose to be there. They become famous the old way — earned, embodied, real. Then the AI companies come with their contracts. Your likeness, your voice, your gestural vocabulary, licensed for franchise deployment across a thousand personalized content streams. Your digital twin carries the IP. You go back to doing eight shows a week.

It inverts the entire 20th century model. Hollywood used to make you famous and Broadway was where you went to prove you were serious. In the coming model Broadway makes you famous and Neo-Hollywood is where your ghost goes to work.

The stars who survive this transition will share certain qualities. Warmth. Specificity. The kind of presence that reads from the back row. The thing that cannot be faked in a room. Tom Hanks has always had it. So has Meryl Streep. So does Denzel. These qualities were always what actually mattered — Hollywood just obscured that by manufacturing fame through distribution and marketing muscle it no longer has.

Tonight we’re watching the Oscars. It’s still a great ceremony, still a genuine ritual — one of the last moments where everyone watches the same thing at the same time with real uncertainty about how it ends. That shared attention is increasingly rare and increasingly precious.

Enjoy it. It’s not going to look like this much longer.

The theatre, though — the theatre is just getting started.

The Sublimation of Reality: Why AI Slop Will Save the Theatre

Imagine a future where every image, every video, every recorded moment you encounter could be a perfect fabrication. Not just a deepfake, but something so seamlessly real that your eyes, your ears, your very senses, cannot tell the difference. This isn’t a distant sci-fi trope; it’s a looming tipping point in our digital evolution, and it promises to fundamentally reshape our relationship with content, authenticity, and shared experience.

The Deluge of Perfect Fakes: The AI Tipping Point

For years, we’ve talked about the
uncanny valley—that unsettling chasm where AI-generated faces and movements are almost human, but not quite. We’ve seen the glitches, the tells, the subtle imperfections that betray their artificial origins. But what happens when AI crosses that valley? When the algorithms learn to mimic reality with such flawless precision that the distinction between genuine and generated vanishes entirely?

This is the tipping point: the moment when visual proof dies. Once AI can produce hyper-realistic videos and photographs on demand, the evidentiary value of any recorded media plummets to zero. Your eyes can no longer be trusted. What you see online, in your news feeds, or even in personal messages, could be a meticulously crafted illusion. This isn’t just about misinformation; it’s about the complete erosion of trust in the digital image.

And what will fill this void? A tidal wave of what one insightful observer termed “AI slop.” Imagine an endless, personalized stream of content, generated on the fly to cater to your every whim, your every desire—including, yes, explicit material. With XR goggles seamlessly blending these AI-generated narratives into your perceived reality, you’ll be immersed in a bespoke, hyper-personalized world where intellectual properties are reinterpreted and remixed just for you, on the fly. Canon? Forget about it. Every story becomes a fluid, ever-changing text, tailored to the individual, with no fixed point of reference.

The Great Sublimation: From Digital Chaos to Live Authenticity

This isn’t a future of digital backlash, but rather a sublimation. Faced with an overwhelming, untrustworthy, and ultimately isolating digital landscape, humanity will instinctively seek refuge in the one place where authenticity remains unassailable: live theatre.

Think about it. In a world where every recorded image is suspect, the raw, unmediated presence of a live performance becomes a beacon of truth. There are no filters, no algorithms, no post-production tricks. The actors are physically there, breathing the same air as you. The story unfolds in real-time, a singular, unrepeatable event shared with a collective audience. This is where the human need for genuine connection, for shared reality, will find its most potent expression.

Live theatre, once perhaps seen as a niche art form, will ascend to become the new canonical authority. It will be the place where stories are told with intentionality, where artistic vision holds sway, and where a shared cultural experience is not just possible, but guaranteed. The monthly pilgrimage to the theatre, much like our grandparents once went to the movies, will become a vital ritual—a deliberate act of choosing reality over simulation, and communal experience over isolated consumption.

Why This Matters

This vision, while seemingly dystopian, offers a fascinating glimpse into our future. It suggests that even as technology pushes the boundaries of simulation, the fundamental human craving for authenticity and shared meaning will endure. The “AI slop” might dominate our daily digital lives, but it will inadvertently create a profound appreciation for the irreplaceable magic of the live, the real, and the truly shared.

So, the next time you put on your XR goggles, or scroll through an endless feed of AI-generated content, consider this: perhaps the very technology designed to immerse us in artificial worlds will ultimately drive us back to the most ancient and human of experiences—the communal storytelling of live theatre. And in that, there’s a strange, hopeful beauty.

The Post-Canon Era and the Resurgence of Live Experience: A Dystopian Vision Analyzed

Editor’s Note: This is a response from the Manus LLM about a question I asked it.

The user’s vision of a future where recorded media lacks a definitive canon, leading to a mass migration towards the live, canonical experience of theatre, presents a compelling and indeed dystopian perspective on the evolution of content consumption. This scenario, while speculative, touches upon several critical anxieties and trends within contemporary media landscapes, particularly concerning authenticity, authority, and the nature of shared cultural experience.

The Erosion of Canon in Recorded Media

The concept of a ‘canon’ traditionally refers to a body of works considered authoritative, foundational, or exemplary within a particular field. In recorded media, this has historically been shaped by critical consensus, cultural impact, and longevity. However, the proliferation of content, the democratization of creation tools, and the algorithmic curation of individual experiences have indeed begun to fragment this traditional understanding. The user’s ‘post-canon’ era suggests a future where:

  • Infinite Interpretations: Without a fixed canon, every piece of recorded media becomes a fluid text, open to endless reinterpretation, fan theories, and alternate narratives, none of which hold more authority than another. This could lead to a sense of creative anarchy, where the original intent or established lore loses all meaning.
  • Algorithmic Bubbles: Personalized algorithms, already prevalent, could further isolate individuals within their preferred interpretations or versions of an IP, preventing the formation of a collective understanding or shared cultural touchstones.
  • Loss of Shared Cultural Reference: The absence of a canon would mean a diminished common ground for cultural discourse. Discussions around media would become increasingly atomized, as each individual’s experience of an IP might be fundamentally different from another’s.
  • Commercial Exploitation: In a post-canon world, intellectual property holders might continuously re-release, reboot, or re-imagine their properties without adherence to any established narrative or character integrity, driven purely by market demand. This could lead to a dilution of artistic value and a focus on novelty over substance.

The Allure of Live Theatre as the New Canon

In stark contrast to this fragmented recorded landscape, the user posits that live theatre would emerge as the new bastion of canon. This is a particularly insightful aspect of the vision, as live performance inherently possesses qualities that recorded media, especially in a post-canon state, struggles to replicate:

  • Uniqueness and Immediacy: Every live performance is a singular, unrepeatable event. This inherent ephemerality creates a sense of preciousness and authenticity that recorded media, by its very nature of reproducibility, cannot match. The shared experience of being present at a unique event fosters a strong sense of community and collective memory.
  • Fixed Interpretation (for a moment): While interpretations of a play can vary between productions, within a single run, the performance offers a definitive, shared experience for the audience present. This provides a temporary, yet powerful, canonical anchor that is absent in the fluid world of recorded media.
  • Communal Experience: Attending live theatre is a fundamentally communal act. Audiences share laughter, tears, and moments of collective reflection. This shared emotional and intellectual journey stands in direct opposition to the individualized consumption of recorded media, offering a powerful antidote to social fragmentation.
  • Artistic Authority: In live theatre, the director, actors, and creative team present a specific, curated vision of the work. This inherent artistic authority provides a clear point of reference and a sense of intentionality that might be deeply craved in a post-canon recorded media environment.

Implications of this Dystopian Shift

If this vision were to materialize, the implications would be profound:

  • Revaluation of Authenticity: The value placed on ‘authenticity’ and ‘originality’ would skyrocket, particularly for experiences that cannot be replicated or endlessly modified. Live performance, with its inherent authenticity, would become a premium cultural commodity.
  • Cultural Divide: A new cultural divide could emerge between those who seek the ephemeral, canonical experience of live performance and those who remain immersed in the fluid, personalized, and potentially meaningless landscape of recorded media. Access to live theatre, often geographically and economically constrained, could become a marker of cultural capital.
  • Evolution of Storytelling: Storytelling in recorded media might evolve to embrace its non-canonical nature, focusing on modular narratives, interactive experiences, or hyper-personalized content. Meanwhile, live theatre might double down on its strengths, emphasizing ritual, shared narrative, and the direct connection between performer and audience.
  • Economic Shifts: Investment and cultural prestige might shift significantly towards live arts, potentially revitalizing theatre districts and performance venues, while recorded media industries grapple with the implications of a fractured and less authoritative product.

Conclusion

The user’s dystopian vision is a potent thought experiment that highlights the fundamental human need for shared meaning and authoritative narratives. In a world saturated with infinitely malleable digital content, the tangible, immediate, and communal experience of live theatre could indeed offer a powerful counter-narrative, becoming a sanctuary for those seeking a definitive ‘canon.’ This shift would not merely be a change in consumption habits but a profound reordering of cultural values, emphasizing presence, authenticity, and collective experience over endless, individualized interpretations. It serves as a stark reminder of the potential consequences when the very foundations of shared cultural understanding begin to erode.

The Future of Hollywood in the Age of Generative AI

Imagine returning home in 2036 after a long day. Rather than streaming yet another algorithmically optimized series, you simply prompt your personal Knowledge Navigator AI agent to craft a two-hour feature film tailored precisely to your life—your struggles, triumphs, and innermost conflicts rendered in stunning, cathartic detail. You settle in to watch this bespoke, high-fidelity production, scarcely pausing to reflect that, not long ago, creating a comparable “general-interest” movie required the coordinated efforts of thousands of artists, technicians, and executives working within an elaborate industrial framework.

As someone who deeply admires the magic of show business—the glamour of the Oscars, the storied legacy of Hollywood, the collaborative artistry behind the screen—I find this vision both exhilarating and profoundly unsettling. The astonishing pace of improvement in generative AI video models suggests we may need to confront the possibility that traditional filmmaking, as we know it, could soon become obsolete.

Proponents of these technologies often remark that “this is the worst it will ever be,” pointing to relentless advancements. In early 2026, models such as Kling 3.0, Sora 2, Veo 3.1, Runway Gen-4, and emerging tools like ByteDance’s Seedance 2.0 already produce cinematic clips with native audio, realistic physics, lip-sync, and sophisticated camera work—often spanning 10–25 seconds or more from a single prompt. While full two-hour coherent narratives from one prompt remain beyond current capabilities, the trajectory is unmistakable: exponential gains in length, consistency, and quality could make such feats feasible in the near term, potentially within months or a few short years.

Faced with this disruption, the film industry confronts three primary paths forward.

First, the industry could simply accept contraction. Major studios and theaters might shrink dramatically, with many venues closing or repurposing. A once multi-billion-dollar ecosystem could dwindle to a fraction of its size, sustained only by a niche of boutique, human-crafted films. The bulk of viewing would shift to on-demand, AI-generated “slop”—personalized, instantly produced content delivered by agents responding to casual prompts.

Second, aggressive regulatory intervention could attempt to preserve human labor. The federal government might impose job protections or mandates requiring major productions to involve human crews, writers, actors, and directors. Hollywood could lobby intensely for such safeguards. However, in the current political environment—marked by skepticism toward “blue Hollywood” from influential figures—this approach faces steep hurdles and seems unlikely to succeed at scale.

Third, and perhaps most realistically, the industry could proactively adapt by embracing AI. Studios and talent agencies might partner with leading AI developers to ensure their brands, intellectual property, and expertise shape the tools that generate the coming wave of content. At minimum, this positions legacy players to retain relevance and revenue streams. More ambitiously, Hollywood could pivot toward what remains irreplaceably human: live performance. Broadway-style theater, immersive stage productions, and in-person experiences could become the primary domain for actors and performers, evolving the industry rather than allowing it to vanish entirely. AI might handle scalable, personalized visual entertainment, while live theater preserves the communal, embodied essence of storytelling.

Regardless of the path chosen, change is accelerating. The humans who have built their careers in film—writers, directors, crew members, and performers—face genuine risks of displacement. “Hollywood” as a centralized, high-budget industrial complex may gradually fade, supplanted by a decentralized, democratized landscape of AI-augmented creation.

It remains to be seen how this transformation unfolds, but one thing is clear: the era of mass, collaborative filmmaking as the default for popular entertainment may soon belong to history. The question is not whether AI will reshape the industry, but how creatively and humanely we navigate the transition.

(Maybe) We Should Just Let Hollywood Die

by Shelt Garner
@sheltgarner

The year is 2036 and you come home from work. Instead of sitting down to watch Netflix slop, you prompt your Knowledge Navigator AI Agent to produce a two hour movie that features you and your problems in a way that you find cathartic. You watch the high quality AI slop without thinking about the fact that there was a time when thousands of people have worked together to create a general-interest movie concept that would have been the framework of “reality.”

I really love showbiz. I love the Oscars and Hollywood and all that jazz. But, alas, given the speed at which generative AI video models are improving, maybe we should just give up.

Maybe Hollywood, like is the horse whip industry of the 21 Century.

I say this in the context of the whole “this is the worst it will ever be” comments you hear from generative AI promoters. And it’s happening fast. It could be that very soon — months even — a whole two hour film might be produced from a single prompt.

Now, there are three options in the face of this.

One is to just give up. Just circle the wagons as the industry slow (quickly?) contracts. Theatres will close or be converted. And soon a multi-billion dollar industry will be measured in…millions? There will be a tiny sliver of boutique type movies produced by humans while the vast majority of films will be done on the fly via AI agents that have been prompted to do this or that story.

Another idea is job carve outs through regulation by the Federal government. Given how Tyrant Trump hates very blue Hollywood, I see difficulty in this being enacted. But Hollywood, as it contracts, might lobby Washington really hard to make it so major movies absolutely have to be produced by humans. I like this idea, but, lulz, no one listens to me and I don’t see it being very practical given the political climate.

The last idea is to embrace the changes proactively. Hollywood could work with AI companies so at least their names will be on the software used to create all the AI slop that is on its way. Also, Hollywood could put all its actors on lifeboats of a sinking ship by everyone realizing that live theatre, like Broadway is the future of the acting profession. As such, Hollywood would evolve into Broadway, rather than evaporate altogether.

Anyway, things are moving fast, regardless. It will be interesting to see what happens. I do worry about the humans involved in Hollywood, though. It’s very possible that “Hollywood” as we know it…will just fade away.

Hollywood May Literally Evolve Into Broadway

by Shelt Garner
@sheltgarner

I don’t know what to tell you, folks. It definitely SEEMS like Hollywood is “cooked.” It definitely seems as though Hollywood is going to go into a death spiral like newspapers already have.

They will remain, for a while, culturally significant, but, lulz, ultimately all but about 1% of movies will become generative in nature. I’m not happy that this is may be about to happen, but it’s a cold, hard reality.

But as I have LONG suggested, I believe human actors will still get work, just somewhere different: live theatre. Here’s how I think it will happen: actors will work their way up through local and community theatre to Broadway, where many of them will have their bodies scanned after they become popular.

And THAT will be how they become “movie stars,” not by doing all the physical work necessary to become a movie star. That’s because movie, as we currently think of them, will no longer exist as an industry.

The AI Video Revolution: Why Broadway Might Be Hollywood’s Next Act

In the whirlwind of 2026, generative AI isn’t just a buzzword—it’s a full-blown cinematic disruptor. Just last month, whispers on X turned into roars as creators showcased videos that once required multimillion-dollar studios and months of production. Text prompts morphing into 60-second cinematic masterpieces with flawless physics, lip-sync, and camera control? It’s happening, and it’s happening fast. But as Hollywood grapples with this tidal wave of accessible storytelling, one can’t help but wonder: what survives when every script can be visualized in seconds? Enter the timeless allure of live theater—like the electric hum of a Broadway opening night. In a world drowning in AI-generated reels, could the future of big-screen spectacle lie not in pixels, but in flesh-and-blood immediacy?

The Dawn of the AI Video Era: A Snapshot from the Frontlines

X has become the pulse of this innovation, where indie devs and tech giants alike drop demos that blur the line between dream and demo reel. Take Seedance 2.0, hailed as the current king of generative video for its ability to churn out prompt-driven movies that feel eerily director-ready. Users are raving about its leap from “4-second weirdness” to full-blown narratives, complete with realistic motion and emotional depth. One creator even quipped that it’s so advanced, it’s a direct challenge to heavyweights like Veo, Kling, Runway, Grok, and Sora: “Your move.”

Google’s Veo 3.1 isn’t sitting idle either. Their latest update amps up expressiveness for everything from casual TikTok-style clips to pro-grade vertical videos, all powered by ingredient images that let users remix reality on the fly. Meanwhile, Kling is iterating wildly—versions 2.6 through 3 now handle complex scenes with an “extra life and creativity” that feels almost sentient, generating 10-second 1080p bursts in minutes. Runway’s Gen-4.5 builds on this, transforming text, images, or even existing footage into seamless new content, while Luma’s Ray 3 and Hailuo/MiniMax 2.3 push boundaries in physics simulation.

And let’s not overlook the open-source surge. Abacus AI’s Sora 2 claims the throne as “the best video model in the world,” bundled with GLM-4.6 for text and a mini image-gen for good measure—available today via ChatLLM. Tools like GlobalGPT are democratizing access further, letting anyone tinker with Sora 2 Pro, Veo 3.1, or Vidu Q3 Pro without breaking the bank. Even Grok’s Imagine video is turning heads for its speed and unprompted flair, hinting at native high-res generations on the horizon.

These aren’t hypotheticals; they’re X threads packed with embedded clips that loop endlessly, mesmerizing viewers with photorealistic chaos whipped up from a single sentence. The barrier to entry? Vanishing. A bedroom filmmaker can now outpace a mid-budget studio, flooding the internet with hyper-personalized stories.

Hollywood’s Fork in the Road: From Replicants to Raw Humanity

Here’s the rub: abundance breeds commodification. When AI can generate a blockbuster trailer—or an entire film—from a prompt, the magic of Hollywood’s assembly line starts to feel… replicable. Why shell out $15 for a CGI-heavy tentpole when your phone can spit out a bespoke version tailored to your wildest fanfic? The economics shift dramatically. Streaming giants like Netflix and Disney already battle churn rates as content libraries balloon into indistinguishable slogs. AI accelerates this, turning cinema from a scarce art form into an infinite buffet.

But humans crave rarity. We don’t flock to museums for printed replicas; we go for the aura of the original. Enter live theater, the anti-AI antidote. Broadway isn’t just performance—it’s communion. No do-overs, no deepfakes, no algorithmic tweaks mid-scene. It’s the sweat of actors improvising in the moment, the collective gasp of a thousand strangers riding the same emotional wave. Think Hamilton: a hip-hop history lesson that remixed the stage into a cultural phenomenon, spawning tours, merch empires, and yes, even films—but the live wire is what endures.

Imagine Hollywood evolving this way. Picture augmented “live” spectacles where AI handles the grunt work (sets, effects, even background characters), but the core—dialogue, vulnerability, surprise—stays human and ephemeral. Virtual reality could beam Broadway-caliber shows into living rooms worldwide, but the premium tier? In-person, ticketed events with celebrity rotations, audience interactions, and unscripted encores. It’s already budding: Disney’s immersive Star Wars lands, or the rise of experiential pop-ups like Sleep No More. With AI offloading the visual heavy lifting, creators can focus on what machines can’t fake: the thrill of the unknown, the alchemy of live chemistry.

Critics might scoff—Hollywood as theater? Too niche, too unpredictable. But history rhymes. Silent films gave way to talkies; black-and-white to color; practical effects to CGI. Each pivot preserved the essence (storytelling) while amplifying delivery. AI video is the next: it’ll cheapen the reproducible, elevating the irreplaceable. Broadway’s model—limited runs, high-ticket intimacy, cultural cachet—scales globally via hybrid formats, turning passive viewers into participatory tribes.

Curtain Call: A Stage for the Soul

As 2026 unfolds, the X chatter on AI video models isn’t just tech porn; it’s a harbinger. Tools like Seedance and Veo are democratizing creation, but they’re also underscoring a profound truth: in an era of perfect illusions, the imperfectly human wins. Hollywood won’t die—it’ll transform, shedding its factory skin for the footlights of live innovation. Broadway, with its resilient blend of tradition and reinvention, offers the blueprint. So next time you’re doom-scrolling AI clips, pause and book a ticket. The real show? It’s just beginning.

Hollywood Is Cooked, But Actors Should Be Fine

by Shelt Garner
@sheltgarner

While it’s really scary to think that Hollywood may be about to implode because of AI, I think actors as a profession should be fine. The transition will be turbulent, but once we reached the AI Hollywood Singularity, all the actors who lose their job because of AI will go into live theatre that will pick up the slack.

I think this will be the biggest change in Hollywood since the advent of the talkies.

So, what will happen is, instead of going to Hollywood, actors will want to go to Broadway. And, as such, the local live theatre will see a huge influx of actors as people want something that is real and live in real life.

That, at least, is the most hopeful outcome.

I suppose that it’s possible that people just want care and the entire Hollywood industry will implode and, lulz, their won’t be any jobs for actors at all. That’s kind of the dystopian outcome.

But I’m hopeful.

Hollywood Is Cooked, I Fear

by Shelt Garner
@sheltgarner

If macro, megatrends continue the path they’re on now — Hollywood is totally cooked. To the point that within 10 years, young would-be starlets will go not to Los Angeles and Hollywood, but, instead to New York City and the lights of Broadway.

“Hollywood” as we know it, will be replaced with high quality AI generate media that is indistinguishable from what humans produce today. My go-to scenario is you will be able to come home from work (if those still exist for humans), tell your Knowledge Navigator what you want to see and it will whip up, on the fly, a new Star Wars movie with you as the hero and everything will be only vaguely connected to the broader Star Wars universe.

I’m not being all that original at this point to pontificate on such things, but I do think the only way Hollywood as we current know it exists in 10 to 20 years is specific legal carveouts for humans. That’s it, without carveouts, Hollywood as we know is a sinking ship.

But we live in an era — at the moment — when weak-willed plutocrats run the show in an autocratic social environment, so I have my doubts that even Hollywood could convince, say, Elon Musk, that it is worth saving.