Taffy Brodesser-Akner sat in a room with an empty office chair this week to interview Tilly Norwood, a woman who does not exist. Tilly is the world’s first AI actress, a dark-haired, photorealistic character who is currently the most controversial star in Hollywood. “Tilly is just a computer,” Brodesser-Akner reminds us, yet the industry is treating her like a pariah. The economics are undeniable: AI is fast and cheap, a potential indie revolution that bypasses the biological labor costs that have plagued the studios for a century. This month, the 75-minute AI-generated feature Dreams of Violets was accepted into the Tribeca Festival, with co-founder Jane Rosenthal calling it a vehicle for “deeply human storytelling.” It is a delicious irony that the most human stories are now being told by entities without heartbeats. The Ghost Era is not limited to starlets; Ozzy Osbourne has officially risen as a million-dollar interactive AI avatar, allowing fans to interact with a digital specter while the real Prince of Darkness enjoys his retirement. As the SAG-AFTRA pact attempts to maintain a biological velvet rope, the market is already voting for the synthetic. In a world where 70,000 Massachusetts gig-drivers have just unionized to fight algorithmic management, the actors are finding that their faces were the first things to be financialized. We are entering a period where celebrity is no longer a person, but a proprietary asset class that never ages, never forgets its lines, and never demands a trailer.