Hollywood’s embrace of generative AI in 2025 was marked more by ambition than achievement. While AI has long played a quiet role in post-production—helping with de-aging actors, removing green screens, and automating repetitive tasks—2025 saw a shift toward deploying AI for content creation at scale, often with little regard for quality or artistic integrity. The result? A wave of underwhelming, poorly executed projects that failed to justify the hype. The year began with legal battles, as major studios like Disney, Universal, and Warner Bros. Discovery sued AI companies over allegations that their models were trained on copyrighted material without permission. Instead of pursuing litigation aggressively, however, many studios chose collaboration over confrontation. This pivot signaled a strategic shift: rather than fight the technology, they would try to control it. This new alliance gave rise to a flurry of AI-driven startups aiming to carve out a space in entertainment. Asteria, founded by Natasha Lyonne, promised ethically trained video models and announced a film project—but delivered little beyond marketing buzz. Meanwhile, Showrunner, backed by Amazon, launched a platform allowing users to generate animated “shows” from simple text prompts via Discord. The output resembled crude, glitchy JibJab cartoons, raising serious doubts about its viability for real storytelling. Despite the shortcomings, the industry’s appetite for cost-cutting AI solutions grew. Netflix became one of the first major studios to openly endorse generative AI, using it for visual effects in original series and releasing guidelines for partners who wanted to follow suit. The message was clear: reduce production costs, even if it meant sacrificing quality. Amazon took the trend further, releasing multiple anime series dubbed entirely by AI. The results were disastrous—robotic voices, awkward timing, and mistranslations that distorted meaning. The studio also launched AI-generated TV recaps that frequently misstated plot points. After public backlash, Amazon pulled both features, but offered no clear commitment to avoid similar missteps in the future. The most telling development came in December, when Disney signed a three-year, billion-dollar deal with OpenAI. The agreement allows Sora users to create videos featuring characters from Star Wars, Marvel, and other major franchises. While the potential for user-generated content is significant, the real impact lies in the message: even the most iconic studio in entertainment is betting on AI, regardless of its current limitations. Disney also plans to dedicate a section of its streaming platform to AI-generated content and is encouraging internal use of OpenAI’s ChatGPT tools. This move signals a broader industry shift—toward a “slop era” where speed and cost savings outweigh creative value. The result? A growing body of AI-generated content that feels hollow, inauthentic, and often laughably bad. Projects like the AI “actress” Tilly Norwood only deepen the sense that some studios are more interested in appearing cutting-edge than in delivering meaningful entertainment. While the long-term potential of AI in film and TV remains uncertain, 2025 made one thing clear: Hollywood’s rush to adopt the technology is outpacing its ability to do it well. The public is not impressed, and the industry’s future may depend on whether it can find a balance between innovation and quality—or if it will be forced to endure a flood of low-effort, AI-generated content for years to come.