performer

Just in time for the Oscars, Tilly Norwood, and by extension her creator, Eline van der Velden, gave actors at every level an unexpected gift — the chance to breathe a little easier.

AI will not be replacing you any time soon.

On Tuesday, the AI phenomenon known as Tilly debuted a single and music video titled “Take the Lead.” In it, Tilly sings a self-celebratory, pro-AI anthem with the big-eyed feisty longing of an algorithm marked “Disney princess: Big song” while she wanders through increasingly fantastic self-affirming scenarios that scream “Plus ‘Barbie.’”

Van der Velden was clearly trying to persuade actors to embrace the possibilities of AI but like Timothée Chalamet, who managed to prove that opera and ballet have many devoted fans by publicly suggesting the opposite, her attempt will likely backfire. The underlying message of the video, at least to performers, appears to be: Relax — AI hasn’t figured out how to lip sync properly, much less act.

It’s a bit of good news in a time of AI anxiety, some of which was Tilly-induced. Last year, Van der Velden, a Dutch actor and founder of the production company Particle6, debuted Tilly, via Instagram, as the “world’s first AI actress.” Around the time the account hit 50,000 followers, Van der Velden announced that several talent agents were interested in representing Tilly. Not Van der Velden, but Tilly Norwood, a “performer” who did not exist.

For a few minutes, Hollywood lost its collective mind. Not only were creators and performers facing a future in which their work, bodies and faces could be scanned and fed into an algorithm capable of imitating writing styles or creating images of actors doing things they never did (in a recent AI video, Tom Cruise and Brad Pitt duke it out on a war-torn rooftop), now some feared they would be competing for jobs with “actors” who could work 24 hours a day, required no health benefits and would never demand bowls of M&Ms with the green ones removed.

SAG-AFTRA, which had just ended a strike caused in part by concerns about AI, protested Tilly and the use of “stolen performances to put actors out of work.” Various actors were outraged and some called for the interested talent agencies to be identified. Even Emily Blunt was publicly disconcerted, begging Hollywood agencies to “please stop taking away our human connection.”

Van der Velden quickly responded, insisting that Tilly was “not a replacement for a human being, but a creative work — a piece of art … a new tool — a new paintbrush.”

Then, on Tuesday, “Tilly” released a music video that seems to argue the exact opposite.

In the video, which appears over the message “Can’t wait to go to the Oscars,” the computer-generated young woman trips through a montage of “famous person moments,” as Tilly insists that she is not a puppet but a star; she encourages all actors to embrace and use AI, to own their creativity and “be free.”

A note prefacing the video states that “18 real humans” were involved in its production (including Van der Velden who is the basis of the performance), who provide the subtext for Tilly warbling: “They say it’s not real, that it’s fake, but I’m a human, make no mistake.”

Whatever Van der Velden and her team hoped to achieve, one thing is very clear: Emily Blunt has nothing to fear from Tilly Norwood.

The questionable merits of the song, performance and production value aside, the video is the best argument yet for why AI “performers” are a limited threat. As Tilly walks the streets of London, poses for selfies, signs autographs, appears on talk shows, performs live in front of enormous audiences, interacts with photographers, we are reminded that Tilly could never do any of this. AI performances are, by their very nature, limited to a screen.

Instagram fame is a real thing and can be monetarily beneficial, just as animated and digitally enhanced characters can connect deeply with audiences. But beyond her ability to raise the spectre of wholly coded “performers” constructed from borrowed bits of humans (which, as anyone who has read or seen “Frankenstein” knows, never ends well), Tilly doesn’t appear to have anything like star power.

And to consider her as existing separate from her creators is like imagining that the ventriloquist dummy Charlie McCarthy could have a career, and an agent, separate from the real performer Edgar Bergen.

Though Charlie did have the advantage of being able to be seen live and in person.

Watching Tilly, one is reminded that the magic of actors is that they are human. Audiences are, after all, human too and whether facing a stage or a screen, we are captivated by certain performers’ ability to bring all manner of characters and stories alive, while also being, as Us Weekly says, “just like us.”

People with bodies that age and change, people who fall in love, get messy, say dumb things, say smart things, fall prey to illness and accidents, shop at Trader Joe’s, end up in court or trip when about to receive an Oscar.

Their faulty, glorious humanity allows them to connect to their art, but it also connects them to us. We may never get an Oscar or be able to masterfully deliver a Shakespeare soliloquy on a chat show, but we know what it’s like to trip or say something dumb or experience aging, illness or accident.

You can’t replace actors with algorithms, even if/when someone comes up with something more convincing than Tilly, because actors are not just about performances. They are people who are alive in the world and no amount of coding can replicate that.

They knew he was going to break. And they leaned into it.

That’s the only explanation for this week’s Ryan Gosling-hosted episode of “Saturday Night Live,” which at times felt more like an inside cast joke than a typical “SNL” episode. But maybe it’s the “Project Hail Mary” actor’s innate charm or that there were genuine laughs to be mined from Gosling breaking character again and again throughout the show (as he did just two years ago) that made it somehow work.

Gosling kept his cool for the most part in a well-executed monologue that focused on next week’s host and musical guest Harry Styles, who was sitting in the front row and inadvertently driving Gosling to distraction with his coolness. But after that, it was a short trip to Giggle Town as Gosling tried valiantly to play a flamboyantly dressed disruptor at a wedding who keeps tapping his glasses so the bride and groom (and others) will kiss.

In a fantasy sketch, he played one of three very dumb cyclops who can’t solve easy riddles, much to the dismay of two maidens — one of them, the usually unflappable Ashley Padilla, caught the giggles from Gosling and couldn’t stop laughing. Padilla and Gosling were a teacher and principal in another sketch reading passed notes out loud that, according to text on screen, were swapped out since rehearsal, causing both to crack up uncontrollably. It was the first “SNL” sketch in a long time, not counting “Weekend Update,” that felt like a prank on the performers.

Gosling stayed in character for the most part as an annoyed hotel patron who’s been overcharged for visits from the “Goo Goo Man.” And he had less opportunity to lose his cool in some pre-taped sketches, one a violent and sad Willy Wonka parody, the other about a sentient and weird treatment for psoriasis, “Otezla.”

Whether you enjoyed the episode would depend a lot on your tolerance for “SNL” performers breaking character and causing cast members to do the same. Gosling may be one of the few hosts who can get away with it since by this point, it’s his fourth time hosting and it’s completely expected.

The show concluded with “Lies,” a video sketch from Please Don’t Destroy’s Martin Herlihy in which, among other things, Herlihy stole Colin Jost’s identity by wearing a giant head modeled after the “Weekend Update” host.

Musical guests Gorillaz performed their 25-year-old hit “Clint Eastwood” with Del the Funky Homosapien and new song “The Moon Cave” with Asha Puthli, Anoushka Shankar and Black Thought. A memorial card before the goodbyes honored Sandy Wernick, Adam Sandler’s longtime manager, who died this week.

Jost returned as Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth, who was introduced doing a keg stand (but full of Sprite, he claimed), before launching into an explainer about the conflict in Iran. “We’re treating Iran like the breathalizer in my car and blowing it the hell up!” he said. He paraphrased Papa Roach’s “Last Resort” (“Cut Iran into pieces!”) and described the U.S. in Iran as not a war but a “situationship” where if the United States gets bored, it will go hook up with Cuba next. After shouting out “Grand Theft Auto,” Megan Fox’s return to Instagram and Quagmire from “Family Guy,” Hegseth introduced former Secretary of Homeland Security Kristi Noem, whom he said was “reassigned under the bus.” Noem (Padilla) said she wasn’t fired, she self-deported and will soon be working out of a WeWork outside of Denver. “As I told my plastic surgeon, the work is never done,” she said, “you miss 100% of the dogs you don’t shoot.” It must be said: it was a relief to have a cold open that didn’t feature a rambling President Trump.

In his monologue, Gosling began going through the motions of singing a song about Earth (with a planetary model hanging down as a visual) before getting distracted by pop star Harry Styles in the front row. Styles, next week’s “SNL” host, said he just wanted to get a feel for it. Before long, smitten cast members, including Sarah Sherman and a cameraman wearing an I (Heart) Harry shirt who kept focusing on Styles, proved too much for Gosling, who called off a big song and dance number featuring most of the cast in silver space attire. Gosling started to sing “Sign of the Times” which is featured in his film “Project Hail Mary” before realizing it’s a Harry Styles song. “I’m just Ken!” Gosling flailed. Cast members consoled him, including a kiss on the cheek from Mikey Day that sent Gosling into a spontaneous giggle attack. Gosling thanked Kenan Thompson for coming out to support him. “We just came to get a better look at Harry,” Thompson replied.

Best sketch of the night: Riddle me this, why are these cyclops so dumb?

In a sketch based on a fictional book, “The Treasure of Darlor,” three cyclops led by Gosling must get past two maidens (Padilla and Veronika Slowikowska) in order to get the key to a cave that will grant them, presumably, the treasure of the book’s title. But the cyclops can’t solve the simplest of riddles and the increasingly exasperated maidens, who’ll be free once a riddle is solved, can’t get them to stop approaching the cave or from making terrible guesses. It’s hard to tell how far off script the sketch went once Gosling and Padilla began breaking character, but the characters are so silly and dumb that precision actually doesn’t matter too much and the result is a ramshackle hilarity as they keep going in semantic circles.

Also good: No notes. Seriously, no more notes, please

Maybe this was funnier for those on stage than for those watching at home, but the audacity of a sketch in which material is swapped out before air time (as we’re told in an on-screen warning) to unaware cast members and the host, breathed life into what would have otherwise been a pretty routine sketch about a teacher (Padilla) and a principal (Gosling) trying to discipline unruly students. Padilla almost never breaks in sketches; she’s a rock-solid performer, but without any advance knowledge of the jokes in notes she had to read out loud, she simply crumbled. Gosling never had a chance. The jokes in the notes are not all great, but they’re enough to have their intended effect on the two performers. The laughing becomes infectious.

‘Weekend Update’ winner: Pastor Update was really itemizing those backstage snacks

The next best thing we might get to a new “What Up With That?” sketch might be Thompson as Pastor Update, the official pastor to “Weekend Update” who was joined by his bandleader Teddy (James Austin Johnson). The two brought some soulful rumination on catered snacks and beautiful women with big foreheads. When Michael Che asked for something a little more uplifting, Pastor Update instead went after Che’s online habits, praying he “gets off his laptop looking at them nasty pictures on the computer.” The laptop, he sang, has been infected with so many nasty viruses it sounds like a lawnmower starting up.