The Disappearing Middle: How Hollywood’s Bifurcation is Reshaping Cinema

Modern Hollywood has evolved into a landscape dominated by two distinct categories of films: massive four-quadrant blockbusters designed to appeal to global audiences, and smaller message-driven productions that prioritize social commentary. This binary division represents a fundamental shift in how the film industry approaches storytelling and audience engagement.

The Message vs. Plot Dilemma

While socially conscious filmmaking has always existed, contemporary cinema often struggles to balance thematic messaging with compelling narrative structure. When political or social commentary overshadows plot development, audiences may feel lectured rather than entertained. The most effective films throughout history have woven their themes organically into their stories, allowing the message to emerge naturally from character development and dramatic conflict.

This challenge isn’t exclusive to progressive filmmaking. Conservative-leaning productions can fall into the same trap, becoming so focused on delivering their ideological perspective that they sacrifice narrative coherence and audience engagement. Films that prioritize message delivery over storytelling craft often alienate viewers regardless of their political alignment.

The Economics Behind the Split

The current bifurcation stems largely from fundamental changes in film economics. The collapse of the physical media market has eliminated a crucial revenue stream that once supported mid-budget productions. In the DVD era, a $30 million film could reasonably expect to recoup its investment through home video sales, providing studios with the financial cushion to take creative risks on moderately budgeted projects.

Without this safety net, studios have gravitated toward two extremes: massive tentpole productions with global appeal and merchandising potential, or low-budget passion projects that reflect the personal convictions of their creators. The middle-tier films that once formed the backbone of Hollywood’s diverse output have largely disappeared.

The Missing Middle Ground

This economic reality has created a void where character-driven dramas, romantic comedies, thriller, and other genre films once thrived. These mid-budget productions often provided the most satisfying moviegoing experiences, offering sophisticated storytelling without the commercial constraints of blockbuster filmmaking or the ideological weight of message movies.

The absence of this middle tier has impoverished the cinematic landscape, forcing audiences to choose between spectacle-driven entertainment and politically charged narratives. Both serve their purpose, but the lack of alternatives limits the range of stories being told and the variety of experiences available to moviegoers.

Looking Forward

The industry stands at a crossroads as technological advances, particularly in artificial intelligence, promise to further disrupt traditional filmmaking models. These changes may either exacerbate the current bifurcation or create new opportunities for diverse storytelling approaches.

The challenge for contemporary Hollywood lies in rediscovering the art of embedding meaningful themes within compelling narratives, regardless of budget constraints or technological innovations. The most enduring films have always been those that trust audiences to engage with complex ideas through well-crafted stories rather than explicit messaging.

As the industry continues to evolve, the demand for authentic storytelling that respects audience intelligence while exploring significant themes remains constant. The future of cinema may well depend on filmmakers’ ability to bridge the gap between entertainment and enlightenment without sacrificing either.

The Great Reversal: How AI Will Make Broadway the New Hollywood

Hollywood has long been the undisputed capital of entertainment, drawing aspiring actors, directors, and creators from around the world with promises of fame, fortune, and artistic fulfillment. But as artificial intelligence rapidly transforms how we create and consume content, we may be witnessing the beginning of one of the most dramatic reversals in entertainment history. The future of stardom might not be found in the hills of Los Angeles, but on the stages of Broadway.

The AI Content Revolution

We’re racing toward a world where anyone with a smartphone and an internet connection can generate a bespoke movie or television show tailored to their exact preferences. Want a romantic comedy set in medieval Japan starring your favorite actors? AI can create it. Prefer a sci-fi thriller with your preferred pacing, themes, and visual style? That’s just a few prompts away.

This isn’t science fiction—it’s the logical extension of technologies that already exist. AI systems can now generate photorealistic video, synthesize convincing voices, and craft compelling narratives. As these capabilities mature and become accessible to consumers, the traditional Hollywood model of mass-produced content designed to appeal to the broadest possible audience begins to look antiquated.

Why settle for whatever Netflix decides to greenlight when you can have AI create exactly the content you want to watch, precisely when you want to watch it? The democratization of content creation through AI doesn’t just threaten Hollywood’s business model—it fundamentally challenges the very concept of shared cultural experiences around professionally produced media.

The Irreplaceable Magic of Live Performance

But here’s where the story takes an unexpected turn. As AI-generated content becomes ubiquitous and, paradoxically, mundane, human beings will increasingly crave something that no algorithm can replicate: the authentic, unrepeatable experience of live performance.

There’s something fundamentally different about watching a human being perform live on stage. The knowledge that anything could happen—a forgotten line, a broken prop, a moment of pure spontaneous brilliance—creates a tension and excitement that no perfectly polished AI-generated content can match. When an actor delivers a powerful monologue on Broadway, the audience shares in a moment that will never exist again in exactly the same way.

This isn’t just about nostalgia or romanticism. It’s about the deep human need for authentic connection and shared experience. In a world increasingly mediated by algorithms and artificial intelligence, live theatre offers something precious: unfiltered humanity.

The Great Migration to Broadway

By 2030, we may witness a fundamental shift in where ambitious performers choose to build their careers. Instead of heading west to Hollywood, the most talented young actors, directors, and writers will likely head east to New York, seeking the irreplaceable validation that can only come from a live audience.

This migration will be driven by both push and pull factors. The push comes from a Hollywood industry that’s struggling to compete with AI-generated content, where traditional roles for human performers are diminishing. The pull comes from a Broadway and wider live theatre scene that’s experiencing a renaissance as audiences hunger for authentic, human experiences.

Consider the career calculus for a young performer in 2030: compete for fewer and fewer roles in an industry being rapidly automated, or join a growing live theatre scene where human presence is not just valuable but essential. The choice becomes obvious.

The Gradual Then Sudden Collapse

The transformation of entertainment hierarchies rarely happens overnight, but when it does occur, it often follows Ernest Hemingway’s famous description of bankruptcy: gradually, then suddenly. We may already be in the “gradually” phase.

Hollywood has been grappling with disruption for years—streaming services upended traditional distribution, the pandemic accelerated changes in viewing habits, and now AI threatens to automate content creation itself. Each of these challenges has chipped away at the industry’s foundations, but the system has adapted and survived.

However, there’s a tipping point where accumulated pressures create a cascade effect. When AI can generate personalized content instantly and cheaply, when audiences increasingly value authentic experiences over polished productions, and when the most talented performers migrate to live theatre, Hollywood’s centuries-old dominance could crumble with stunning speed.

The New Entertainment Ecosystem

This doesn’t mean that all screen-based entertainment will disappear. Rather, we’re likely to see a bifurcation of the entertainment industry. On one side, AI-generated content will provide endless personalized entertainment options. On the other, live performance will offer premium, authentic experiences that command both artistic prestige and economic value.

Broadway and live theatre will likely expand beyond their current geographical and conceptual boundaries. We may see the emergence of live performance hubs in cities around the world, each developing their own distinctive theatrical cultures. Regional theatre could experience unprecedented growth as audiences seek out live experiences in their local communities.

The economic implications are profound. While AI-generated content will likely be nearly free to produce and consume, live performance will become increasingly valuable precisely because of its scarcity and authenticity. The performers who master live theatre skills may find themselves in a position similar to master craftsmen in the age of mass production—rare, valuable, and irreplaceable.

The Clock is Ticking

The signs are already emerging. AI-generated content is improving at an exponential rate, traditional Hollywood productions are becoming increasingly expensive and risky, and audiences are showing a growing appreciation for authentic, live experiences across all forms of entertainment.

The entertainment industry has always been cyclical, with new technologies disrupting old ways of doing business. But the AI revolution represents something fundamentally different—not just a new distribution method or production technique, but a challenge to the very notion of human creativity as a scarce resource.

In this new landscape, the irreplaceable value of live, human performance may make Broadway the unlikely winner. The young performers heading to New York instead of Los Angeles in 2030 may be making the smartest career decision of their lives, choosing the one corner of the entertainment industry that AI cannot touch.

The curtain is rising on a new act in entertainment history, and the spotlight is shifting from Hollywood to Broadway. The only question is how quickly the audience will follow.

The Jurassic Franchise’s Missed Opportunity for Real-World Storytelling

The Jurassic Park franchise has painted itself into a narrative corner, and it’s time for the filmmakers to embrace a more ambitious vision. While I haven’t kept up with the recent installments, my understanding is that the series has established dinosaurs as a permanent fixture in the modern world, particularly in equatorial regions. This premise opens up fascinating storytelling possibilities that the franchise has barely begun to explore.

Instead of retreating to yet another remote island with another failed genetic experiment, why not examine how contemporary society would actually adapt to living alongside apex predators? The real dramatic potential lies not in isolated disaster scenarios, but in the mundane reality of coexistence with creatures that were never meant to share our world.

Imagine following the daily lives of people in São Paulo or Lagos, where a Tyrannosaurus Rex roaming the outskirts isn’t a shocking plot twist—it’s Tuesday. How do children walk to school when velociraptors might be hunting in the nearby favelas? What happens to agriculture when herbivorous dinosaurs migrate through farming regions? How do emergency services adapt their protocols when every call could involve a creature that’s been extinct for 65 million years?

These questions offer rich material for human drama that goes far beyond the franchise’s current formula of “scientists make bad decisions, dinosaurs escape, chaos ensues.” The most compelling aspect of the Jurassic concept was never the spectacle of the dinosaurs themselves—it was the exploration of humanity’s relationship with forces beyond our control.

By focusing on integrated coexistence rather than isolated incidents, the franchise could explore themes of environmental adaptation, social inequality, and technological innovation in genuinely meaningful ways. How do wealthy neighborhoods afford anti-dinosaur barriers while poor communities remain vulnerable? What new industries emerge around dinosaur management? How do governments regulate creatures that don’t recognize borders?

The island-based approach has exhausted its creative possibilities. The franchise needs to embrace the logical conclusion of its own premise: dinosaurs aren’t just park attractions that occasionally escape—they’re a permanent part of our world now. The most interesting stories lie not in running from that reality, but in learning to live with it.

The Coming AI Flood Of Art and the Future of Human Artistry

The rise of generative AI forces us to confront an uncomfortable question: what happens to the value of human-created art when machines can produce it faster, cheaper, and on demand? We’ve seen this pattern before. Digital photography democratized image-making, flooding the world with countless snapshots of varying quality. The same transformation now looms over every creative medium.

I believe we’re heading toward a world where anyone can generate professional-quality movies and television shows with nothing more than a casual prompt. “Make me a sci-fi thriller with strong female characters” becomes a command that produces a full-length feature in minutes, not months. But this is only the beginning of the disruption.

The next phase will be even more radical. We won’t even need to formulate our own prompts. Instead, we’ll turn to our AI companions—our personal Knowledge Navigators—and simply express a mood or preference. “I want something that will make me laugh but also think,” we might say, and within moments we’ll be watching a perfectly crafted piece of entertainment tailored to our exact psychological state and viewing history.

This raises profound questions about the survival of traditional entertainment industries. Hollywood as we know it—with its massive budgets, star systems, and distribution networks—may become as obsolete as the telegraph. Why wait months for a studio to greenlight and produce content when you can have exactly what you want, exactly when you want it?

Yet I wonder if this technological flood might create an unexpected refuge for human creativity. Perhaps the very ubiquity of AI-generated content will make authentically human-created art more precious, not less. We might see a renewed appreciation for the irreplaceable qualities of human performance, human storytelling, human presence.

This could drive a renaissance in live theater. While screens overflow with algorithmically perfect entertainment, Broadway and regional theaters might become sanctuaries for genuine human expression. Young performers might abandon their dreams of Hollywood stardom for the New York stage, where their humanity becomes their greatest asset rather than their liability.

The irony would be poetic: in an age of infinite digital entertainment, the most valuable experiences might be the ones that can only happen in real time, in real space, between real people. The future of art might not be found in our screens, but in our shared presence in darkened theaters, watching human beings tell human stories.

Whether this vision proves optimistic or naive remains to be seen. But one thing seems certain: we’re about to find out what human creativity is truly worth when machines can mimic everything except being human.

It’s Comical How Little People Take Me Seriously When It Comes To These Novels I’m Working On

by Shelt Garner
@sheltgarner

I have the worst luck when it comes to getting help from people to improve this first novel I’m working on. Some of it comes from the fact that the heroine is a part time stripper and some of it is that well, lulz, people just think I’m a kook.

Naomi Scott as my heroine, Union Pang?

And, you know, maybe I am.

I suppose the dream of every artist is to be judged on the merits of their work, huh.

It’s going to be really interesting to see if I can get any literary agents to take me seriously at all. You know what will happen, of course — they will do due diligence on me, find this Website and laugh and laugh and laugh at what a huge fucking kook I am.

I call this the “kook tax.”

I just can’t help that I’m…different. I’ve always been different, but it’s really disheartening that “serious” “normal” people can’t lower themselves to at least read my novel to help me improve it.

Fortunately, I have AI now. That is really helping me get a little further in the process of improving the novel because the AI doesn’t judge me, even if it locks up whenever I ask it about particularly “spicy” scenes.

I just want this novel to be interesting enough that people finish it and want more. I have two more novels set in the same town and universe. If I manage to miraculously sell these novels, the fifth novel will be set in Asia, I think.

I’ll be 70 years old by the time that one comes out, though. Ugh.

I hate being old. I wanna have fun. I sell my novel, it be a huge success and then run around New York City drinking too much, banging hot 24-year-olds and staying up all night partying.

But, alas, that’s just not in the cards I don’t think. Even though I could probably do those things still, the whole context would be different to the point that it would give me pause for thought. People would look down their nose at me and think I was a creepy weirdo.

Sigh, sigh, sigh.

The More I Think About It, Naomi Scott *Would* Be Perfect To Play The Heroine of My Novel In Any Movie Adaptation

by Shelt Garner
@sheltgarner

I think I may have written about this before — I vacillate wildly about who should play the heroine of my novel in any hypothetical movie adaptation — but I got followed by someone connected to Smile 2 (I think) on Twitter so I found myself thinking about it again.

Naomi Scott as my heroine, Union Pang?

I realized, again, that the protagonist of that movie, Naomi Scott, would be perfect to play Union Pang. I first remember seeing her in the most recent Charlie’s Angels movie and I, even then, thought she would be a good fit for Pang. She’s just about the right age, too, since Pang in the novel is 32 as it opens.

Anyway, this is all fantastical and a daydream. I keep being so fucking moody about writing that it’s probably going to be the spring querying season before I actually start to query. I would *prefer* to query starting Sept 1st, but I just don’t know.

I believe I have enough time to between now and September 1st to wrap up yet another version of the novel, but…I don’t know. There are too many variables for me to know for sure.

But, in general, if you want to know what Union Pang, the heroine of my novel looks like as I write it, she looks like Ms. Scott.

Pang has a 16-year-old son and that plays a big part of the novel. And Pang is a role I could see any number of actresses really wanting to play because she’s a very, very flawed woman. She’s a part-time sex worker (stripper) and also runs a alternative weekly.

She’s obsessed with buying a small town newspaper…then a murder happens and she is hell bent on discovering the truth.

I would be greatly helped if, like, people took me seriously. But I have no friends and no one likes me. So all I have is my gut. I just write what I think would make for a good novel in the context of The Girl Who Played With Fire as my “textbook.”

The Oscars Should Be Five Hours & Streamed On Netflix

by Shelt Garner
@sheltgarner

The Academy needs to just give up on broadcasting the Oscars in the traditional way. Just have a five hour extravaganza on Netflix. That way, there is plenty of time for red carpet coverage, musical numbers, dancing, and spectacle.

I think doubling down on what makes the Oscars great would really help take the ceremony to a new age. The whole point of the Oscars is the excess. The hard-core people who love the show want more, not less.

At least, I know I do.

If nothing else, I think the Oscars are probably going to find a home on Netflix sooner rather than later, whenever the rights are up to change.

Hollywood Fades, Broadway Shines? How AI Might Reshape Our Entertainment World

Imagine this: You settle onto your couch after a long day. Your personal AI assistant, your “Navi,” subtly scans your expression, maybe checks your biometrics, and instantly grasps your mood. Forget scrolling through endless streaming options. Within moments, it conjures a brand new, 90-minute movie – perfectly tailored to your current emotional state, blending your favorite genres, perhaps even featuring uncanny digital versions of beloved actors (or even yourself).

This isn’t just science fiction anymore; it’s the direction hyper-personalized AI is heading. And if this capability becomes mainstream, it doesn’t just change how we watch movies – it could fundamentally dismantle the very foundations of Hollywood and redefine the future for performers.

The Dream Factory Goes Digital

For over a century, Hollywood has been the global engine of mass entertainment, a sprawling industry built on creating content for broad audiences. But what happens when entertainment becomes radically individualized?

If your Navi can generate the perfect film for you, on demand, the economic model supporting massive studios, blockbuster budgets, and wide releases starts to look fragile. Why invest hundreds of millions in a single film hoping it resonates with millions, when AI can create infinite variations tailored to audiences of one?

Hollywood likely wouldn’t vanish entirely, but it would inevitably transform. It might shift from being a production hub to an IP and technology hub. Studios could become curators of vast character universes and narrative frameworks, licensing them out for AI generation. The most sought-after creatives might not be directors in the traditional sense, but “Prompt Architects” or “AI Experience Designers” – experts at guiding the algorithms to produce compelling results. The iconic backlots and sound stages could fall quiet, replaced by server farms humming with digital creation.

Where Do the Actors Go When the Cameras Stop Rolling?

This shift poses an existential question for actors. If AI can generate photorealistic performances, resurrect dead stars digitally, or create entirely new virtual idols, the demand for human actors in front of a camera (or motion-capture rig) could plummet. Competing with a digital ghost or an infinitely customizable avatar is a daunting prospect.

Enter Stage Left: The Renaissance of Live Performance

But here’s the fascinating counter-narrative: As digital entertainment becomes more personalized, synthesized, and potentially isolating, the value of live, shared, human experience could skyrocket. And that’s where Broadway, and live performance venues everywhere, come in.

AI can replicate image and sound, but it can’t replicate presence. It can’t duplicate the electric feeling of a shared gasp in a darkened theater, the visceral connection with a performer bearing their soul just feet away, the unique energy of this specific night’s performance that will never happen in exactly the same way again.

In a world saturated with perfect, personalized digital content, the raw, imperfect, tangible reality of live theater, concerts, stand-up comedy, and dance becomes infinitely more precious. It’s the antidote to the algorithm.

Could we see a great migration of performers? Will aspiring actors, finding the gates of digital Hollywood guarded by AI, increasingly set their sights on New York, London, and other centers of live performance? It seems plausible. The skills honed on the stage – presence, voice, vulnerability, the ability to command a room and connect with a live audience – become the unique differentiators, the truly human element that AI cannot synthesize.

The Future: Personalized Screens, Communal Stages

We might be heading towards a future defined by this duality: our individual worlds filled with bespoke digital entertainment crafted by our Navis, existing alongside thriving, cherished spaces dedicated to the communal, unpredictable magic of live human performance. One offers perfect personalization; the other offers profound connection.

Perhaps the flickering glow of the silver screen gives way, not to darkness, but to the bright lights of the stage, reminding us that even as technology reshapes our world, the fundamental human need to gather and share stories, live and in person, remains essential.

The Future of Hollywood: When Every Viewer Gets Their Own Star Wars

In the not-too-distant future, the concept of a “blockbuster movie” could become obsolete. Imagine coming home after a long day, settling onto your couch, and instead of choosing from a catalog of pre-made films, your entertainment system recognizes your mood and generates content specifically for you. This isn’t science fiction—it’s the logical evolution of entertainment as AI continues to transform media production.

The End of the Shared Movie Experience

For decades, the entertainment industry has operated on a one-to-many model: studios produce a single version of a film that millions of viewers consume. But what if that model flipped to many-to-one? What if major studios like Disney and LucasFilm began licensing their intellectual property not for traditional films but as frameworks for AI-generated personalized content?

Let’s explore how this might work with a franchise like Star Wars:

The New Star Wars Experience

Instead of announcing “Star Wars: Episode XI” with a specific plot and cast, LucasFilm might release what we could call a “narrative framework”—key elements, character options, and thematic guidelines—along with the visual assets, character models, and world-building components needed to generate content within the Star Wars universe.

When you subscribe to this new Star Wars experience, here’s what might happen:

  1. Mood Detection and Preference Analysis: Your entertainment system scans your facial expressions, heart rate, and other biometric markers to determine your current emotional state. Are you tired? Excited? In need of escapism or intellectual stimulation?
  2. Personalized Story Generation: Based on this data, plus your viewing history and stated preferences, the system generates a completely unique Star Wars adventure. If you’ve historically enjoyed the mystical elements of The Force, your story might lean heavily into Jedi lore. If you prefer the gritty underworld of bounty hunters, your version could focus on a Mandalorian-style adventure.
  3. Adaptive Storytelling: As you watch, the system continues monitoring your engagement, subtly adjusting the narrative based on your reactions. Falling asleep during a political negotiation scene? The AI might quicken the pace and move to action. Leaning forward during a revelation about a character’s backstory? The narrative might expand on character development.
  4. Content Length Flexibility: Perhaps most revolutionary, these experiences wouldn’t be confined to traditional 2-hour movie formats. Your entertainment could adapt to the time you have available—generating a 30-minute adventure if that’s all you have time for, or an epic multi-hour experience for a weekend binge.

The New Content Ecosystem

This shift would fundamentally transform the entertainment industry’s business models and creative processes:

New Revenue Streams

Studios would move from selling discrete products (movies, shows) to licensing “narrative universes” to AI companies. Revenue might be generated through:

  • Universe subscription fees (access to the Star Wars narrative universe)
  • Premium character options (pay extra to include legacy characters like Luke Skywalker)
  • Enhanced customization options (more control over storylines and settings)
  • Time-limited narrative events (special holiday-themed adventures)

Evolving Creator Roles

Writers, directors, and other creative professionals wouldn’t become obsolete, but their roles would evolve:

  • World Architects: Designing the parameters and possibilities within narrative universes
  • Experience Designers: Creating the emotional journeys and character arcs that the AI can reshape
  • Narrative Guardrails: Ensuring AI-generated content maintains the core values and quality standards of the franchise
  • Asset Creators: Developing the visual components, soundscapes, and character models used by generation systems

Community and Shared Experience

One of the most significant questions this raises: What happens to the communal aspect of entertainment? If everyone sees a different version of “Star Wars,” how do fans discuss it? Several possibilities emerge:

  1. Shared Framework, Personal Details: While the specific events might differ, the broad narrative framework would be consistent—allowing fans to discuss the overall story while comparing their unique experiences.
  2. Experience Sharing: Platforms might emerge allowing viewers to share their favorite generated sequences or even full adventures with friends.
  3. Community-Voted Elements: Franchises could incorporate democratic elements, where fans collectively vote on major plot points while individual executions remain personalized.
  4. Viewing Parties: Friends could opt into “shared generation modes” where the same content is created for a group viewing experience, based on aggregated preferences.

Practical Challenges

Before this future arrives, several significant hurdles must be overcome:

Technical Limitations

  • Real-time rendering of photorealistic content at movie quality remains challenging
  • Generating coherent, emotionally resonant narratives still exceeds current AI capabilities
  • Seamlessly integrating generated dialogue with visuals requires significant advances

Rights Management

  • How will actor likeness rights be handled in a world of AI-generated performances?
  • Will we need new compensation models for artists whose work trains the generation systems?
  • How would residual payments work when every viewing experience is unique?

Cultural Impact

  • Could this lead to further algorithmic bubbles where viewers never experience challenging content?
  • What happens to the shared cultural touchstones that blockbuster movies provide?
  • How would critical assessment and awards recognition work?

The Timeline to Reality

This transformation won’t happen overnight. A more realistic progression might look like:

5-7 Years from Now: Initial experiments with “choose your own adventure” style content with pre-rendered alternate scenes based on viewer preference data.

7-10 Years from Now: Limited real-time generation of background elements and secondary characters, with main narrative components still pre-produced.

10-15 Years from Now: Fully adaptive content experiences with major plot points and character arcs generated in real-time based on viewer engagement and preferences.

15+ Years from Now: Complete personalization across all entertainment experiences, with viewers able to specify desired genres, themes, actors, and storylines from licensed universe frameworks.

Conclusion

The personalization of entertainment through AI doesn’t necessarily mean the end of traditional filmmaking. Just as streaming didn’t eliminate theaters entirely, AI-generated content will likely exist alongside conventional movies and shows.

What seems inevitable, however, is that the definition of what constitutes a “movie” or “show” will fundamentally change. The passive consumption of pre-made content will increasingly exist alongside interactive, personalized experiences that blur the lines between games, films, and virtual reality.

For iconic franchises like Star Wars, this represents both challenge and opportunity. The essence of what makes these universes special must be preserved, even as the method of experiencing them transforms. Whether we’re ready or not, a future where everyone gets their own version of Star Wars is coming—and it will reshape not just how we consume entertainment, but how we connect through shared cultural experiences.

What version of the galaxy far, far away will you experience?

The Future of Hollywood: Your Mood, Your Movie, Your Galaxy Far, Far Away

Imagine this: It’s 2035, and you stumble home after a chaotic day. You collapse onto your couch, flick on your TV, and instead of scrolling through a menu, an AI scans your face. It reads the tension in your jaw, the flicker of exhaustion in your eyes, and decides you need an escape. Seconds later, a movie begins—not just any movie, but a Star Wars adventure crafted just for you. You’re a rogue pilot dodging TIE fighters, or maybe a Jedi wrestling with a personal dilemma that mirrors your own. No one else will ever see this exact film. It’s yours, generated on the fly by an AI that’s licensed the Star Wars universe from Lucasfilm. But here’s the big question: in a world where every story is custom-made, what happens to the shared magic of movies that once brought us all together?

The Rise of the AI Director

This isn’t pure sci-fi fantasy—it’s a future barreling toward us. By the mid-2030s, AI could be sophisticated enough to whip up a feature-length film in real time. Picture today’s tools like Sora or Midjourney, which already churn out short videos and stunning visuals from text prompts, scaled up with better storytelling chops and photorealistic rendering. Add in mood-detection tech—already creeping into our wearables and cameras—and your TV could become a personal filmmaker. Feeling adventurous? The AI spins a high-octane chase through Coruscant. Craving comfort? It’s a quiet tale of a droid fixing a Moisture Farm with you as the hero.

Hollywood’s role might shift dramatically. Instead of churning out one-size-fits-all blockbusters, studios like Disney could license their IPs—think Star Wars, Marvel, or Avatar—to AI platforms. These platforms would use the IP as a sandbox, remixing characters, settings, and themes into infinite variations. The next Star Wars wouldn’t be a single film everyone watches, but a premise—“a new Sith threat emerges”—that the AI tailors for each viewer. It’s cheaper than a $200 million production, endlessly replayable, and deeply personal. The IP stays the star, the glue that keeps us coming back, even if the stories diverge.

The Pull of the Shared Galaxy

But what about the cultural glue? Movies like The Empire Strikes Back didn’t just entertain—they gave us lines to quote, twists to debate, and moments to relive together. If my Star Wars has a sarcastic R2-D2 outsmarting my boss as a Sith lord, and yours has a brooding Mandalorian saving your dog recast as a Loth-cat, where’s the common ground? Social media might buzz with “My Yoda said this—what about yours?” but it’s not the same as dissecting a single Darth Vader reveal. The watercooler moment could fade, replaced by a billion fragmented tales.

Yet the IP itself might bridge that gap. Star Wars isn’t just a story—it’s a universe. As long as lightsabers hum, X-wings soar, and the Force flows, people will want to dive in. The shared love for the galaxy far, far away could keep us connected, even if our plots differ. Maybe Lucasfilm releases “anchor events”—loose canon moments (say, a galactic war’s outbreak) that every AI story spins off from, giving us a shared starting line. Or perhaps the AI learns to weave in universal beats—betrayal, hope, redemption—that echo across our bespoke films, preserving some collective resonance.

A Fragmented Future or a New Kind of Unity?

This future raises tough questions. Does the communal experience of cinema matter in a world where personalization reigns? Some might argue it’s already fading—streaming has us watching different shows at different times anyway. A custom Star Wars could be the ultimate fan fantasy: you’re not just watching the hero, you’re shaping them. Others might mourn the loss of a singular vision, the auteur’s touch drowned out by algorithms. And what about the actors, writers, and crews—do they become obsolete, or do they pivot to curating the AI’s frameworks?

The IP, though, seems the constant. People will always crave Star Wars, Harry Potter, or Jurassic Park. That hunger could drive this shift, with studios betting that the brand’s pull outweighs the need for a shared script. By 2040, Hollywood might not be a factory of films but a library of universes, licensed out to AI agents that know us better than we know ourselves. You’d still feel the thrill of a lightsaber duel, even if it’s your face reflected in the blade.

What’s Next?

So, picture yourself in 2035, mood scanned, movie spinning up. The AI hands you a Star Wars no one else will ever see—but it’s still Star Wars. Will you miss the old days of packed theaters and universal gasps, or embrace a story that’s yours alone? Maybe it’s both: a future where the IP keeps us tethered to something bigger, even as the screen becomes a mirror. One thing’s for sure—Hollywood’s next act is coming, and it’s got your name on the credits.