Jenna Ortega on AI, Hollywood, and Pandora’s Box: What Artificial Intelligence Can’t Steal From Actors

At the Marrakech Film Festival, Jenna Ortega didn’t give the usual polished, “AI is exciting” press-junket answer. Instead, she called it like a lot of people feel it: artificial intelligence is “very easy to be terrified of,” a kind of modern Pandora’s Box that’s already reshaping Hollywood but still can’t quite fake a human soul.

Her comments arrive at a tense moment for the entertainment industry: studios are experimenting with AI-generated scripts, de-aged performers, and synthetic extras, while actors and writers are fighting to keep their likenesses, voices, and creative labor from being turned into endless, algorithmic content. Ortega’s take sits right at that crossroads of fear, pragmatism, and optimism about what AI can and can’t do.

Jenna Ortega at a film festival, speaking on stage about AI and filmmaking
Jenna Ortega discusses artificial intelligence and the future of acting at the Marrakech Film Festival. (Image credit: Variety)

Why Jenna Ortega’s AI Comments Matter Right Now

Ortega isn’t just another celebrity weighing in on tech discourse. She’s the face of Wednesday, a breakout horror-comedy star, and a young actor whose career is unfolding alongside AI’s rapid advance. When she talks about what this technology means for scripts, performances, and careers, she’s doing it from inside the machine, not from a distant TED Talk stage.

“It’s very easy to be terrified of it… it feels like we’ve opened Pandora’s Box.” — Jenna Ortega, Marrakech Film Festival

From Wednesday to Marrakech: The Cultural Context Behind Her AI Take

To understand why Ortega’s comments hit a nerve, you have to place them against the backdrop of the 2023–24 Hollywood labor battles. Both the WGA (Writers Guild of America) and SAG-AFTRA (the actors’ union) made AI a central issue in their strikes, fighting to prevent studios from:

  • Replacing writers with AI tools for drafting or rewriting scripts without proper credit or pay.
  • Scanning background actors once and reusing their likeness indefinitely.
  • Recreating or “deepfaking” famous performers without meaningful consent or compensation.

Ortega, who has worked on highly stylized, character-driven projects like Wednesday, Scream, and X, exists in a corner of the industry where performance choices travel fast: facial expressions become GIFs, TikTok edits, and cosplay references. Her concern isn’t just job security—it’s about what happens to nuance when it’s fed into a machine as “content.”

Film festival audience watching a screening in a dimly lit theater
Film festivals like Marrakech have become key spaces for candid conversations about AI, creativity, and the future of cinema.

“Very Easy to Be Terrified”: Ortega and the Anxiety Around AI

When Ortega talks about AI being terrifying, she’s tapping into a shared unease that stretches from film sets to TikTok comment sections. It’s not just fear of robots; it’s fear of losing control—of your voice, your face, your work, your legacy.

In filmmaking specifically, the “deep uncertainty” she mentions hits a few pressure points:

  1. Job erosion – Will AI cut down on human writers in the room or extras on set?
  2. Creative homogenization – Will studios chase “data-proven” AI story templates instead of riskier, weirder voices?
  3. Identity theft at scale – Will an actor’s face be licensed, tweaked, and resold without meaningful say?
“There’s this deep uncertainty. You don’t know how far it will go, or what you’ll still be needed for.” — Paraphrased from Ortega’s remarks on AI

Yet Ortega stops short of framing AI as a total villain; her point isn’t that the tech must vanish, but that the industry has sprinted ahead without fully grasping where the ethical guardrails should be.

AI-generated mask concept representing digital identity and technology anxiety
AI promises powerful creative tools, but also raises fears around identity, ownership, and authenticity in performance.

“There’s Certain Things It’s Just Not Able to Replicate”

Ortega’s most telling line isn’t about fear—it’s about limits. She argues that there are “certain things” AI simply can’t mimic, especially in acting. That’s not naïveté; it’s an implicit critique of how we define performance in the first place.

AI can already:

  • Generate passable dialogue in the style of popular shows.
  • Clone voices well enough to fool casual listeners.
  • Animate faces and bodies from motion-capture or 2D footage.

But great performances—like Ortega’s deadpan, contained volatility in Wednesday—are built on years of experiences, instincts, micro-decisions, physical discomfort, and emotional memory. AI can imitate the surface pattern of that work on-screen, but not the underlying process or the sense of risk.

“AI can copy, but it can’t live. And acting, at its best, is lived experience finding form in front of a camera.” — Critical perspective inspired by Ortega’s stance
Actor on a film set rehearsing in front of a camera and lighting equipment
Performances are shaped not just by lines and blocking, but by lived experience, on-set improvisation, and human chemistry—areas where AI still hits a wall.

Pandora’s Box in Hollywood: From Tools to Temptations

Ortega’s “Pandora’s Box” metaphor is doing a lot of work. Once AI is in the room, studios have powerful temptations:

  • Budget temptation: Why pay an extra week of reshoots when you can “fix it in post” with AI?
  • Legacy temptation: Why discover new stars when you can keep resurrecting familiar faces?
  • Speed temptation: Why wait for a writer’s rewrite when you can ask a model for ten new scene variations?

Some of these are legitimate tools—used carefully, they can save productions and expand creative possibilities. But without guardrails, the incentives push toward a future where originality and labor are undervalued while synthetic content is endlessly recycled.

Film director and crew looking at a monitor on set, surrounded by cameras and lighting gear
AI now sits alongside cameras, lights, and editing software in the filmmaker’s toolkit—but how it’s used will define the next era of cinema.

The Good, the Bad, and the Uncanny: A Balanced Look at AI in Film

Ortega’s stance leaves room for nuance—AI isn’t pure doom, but it’s not a cute gadget either. In that spirit, here’s a quick breakdown of how her perspective maps onto the technology’s real strengths and weaknesses.

Where AI Actually Helps

  • Previsualization: Quickly mocking up scenes, storyboards, and rough edits.
  • Localization: Smarter dubbing, better subtitles, and lip-sync tech to expand global reach.
  • Accessibility: Automated captions, audio descriptions, and language adaptations that help more people watch.
  • VFX efficiency: Cleaning up shots, crowd replication, and de-aging effects when used transparently.

Where Ortega’s Worries Hit Hardest

  • Performance cloning: Replicating an actor’s likeness or voice without enough consent control.
  • Script commodification: Treating storytelling like a template-filling exercise instead of a craft.
  • Audience trust: Blurring the line between documentary, performance, and synthetic footage.

Critics and creators are starting to argue that the “uncanny valley” isn’t just about visuals anymore—it’s emotional. Even if AI nails the look and sound, there’s still a gut sense when something feels performed at you instead of shared with you.

Abstract representation of human and digital hands almost touching, symbolizing collaboration between humans and AI
The future of entertainment will likely be hybrid—human creativity guided by, but not replaced by, intelligent tools.

Beyond Fear: What Jenna Ortega’s AI Comments Signal About Hollywood’s Future

Ortega’s remarks in Marrakech are less a tech manifesto and more a generational weather report. The storm is here, and she’s acknowledging both the danger and the possibility of learning to live with it. Younger performers like her are entering an industry where contracts now include clauses about digital doubles and AI training data—a reality their predecessors never had to consider.

Her core message: we can’t pretend the box was never opened, but we can decide what we do with what flew out. That means:

  • Negotiating stronger protections for likeness, voice, and creative ownership.
  • Normalizing transparency about when and how AI is used in a project.
  • Valuing performances and stories that feel messily, unmistakably human.
“AI isn’t going anywhere. The question is whether we use it to make more of the same content—or to protect and amplify the voices that can’t be automated.” — Critical summation inspired by the current AI debate in Hollywood

In that sense, Ortega’s skepticism is oddly hopeful. By insisting there are things AI “is just not able to replicate,” she’s defending not only her own craft, but a broader idea: that cinema is, at its best, a record of human beings wrestling with being human. And if AI ever fully replaces that, it won’t be because the machines got better at feeling—it’ll be because we stopped demanding that our stories do.

For now, at least, Hollywood’s most compelling Pandora’s Box isn’t an algorithm; it’s still a face like Jenna Ortega’s, holding a close-up a second longer than anyone expected.


Explore more about Jenna Ortega and the evolving AI conversation in entertainment:

Continue Reading at Source : Variety