LayarHijau– Recently, Chinese netizens have sparked a viral discussion by rejecting the use of AI in acting, a conversation that has reached hundreds of millions of readers. This wave of concern coincides with major industry talks about reforming how actors are compensated, with reports suggesting that top-tier actors could see upfront fees cut by as much as 70 percent due to production efficiencies and technological advancements.
At the 2026 China Television Production Industry Conference on March 13, YiKai Capital CEO Wang Ran highlighted that rapid technological progress, including AI, allows many repetitive tasks in film and TV to be replaced by digital systems. Supporting roles, background performers, and repetitive stunt work could increasingly be handled by AI, reducing production costs and risks. Yet while this benefits studios, viewers feel something essential is lost: AI acting may be “technically perfect but emotionally hollow,” lacking the depth and nuance that human actors bring to their performances.
Many netizens commented, “We’d rather watch a new actor stumble than an AI deliver a flawless but empty performance.” The rejection stems from a desire to preserve the “soul” of acting—the emotional resonance that only humans can convey. In one example, a dramatic farewell scene performed by AI showed only furrowed brows and falling tears, without the subtle grief or nuance that would move an audience. Human actors, in contrast, can convey emotion through glances, pauses, or restrained sighs, creating a depth that resonates on screen.
This reaction is not a rejection of technology itself, but a collective call to safeguard the core of performance: human emotion. While AI can save production costs, replace risky stunts, and improve efficiency, the heart of storytelling must remain human. Audiences want characters and stories that feel alive, not generated by algorithms.
The debate over AI also intersects with changes in actor compensation. The proposed payment model could shift earnings from large upfront fees to profit-sharing structures, including revenue from character licensing, distribution, streaming, and commercial partnerships. Under this system, actors’ income would reflect a project’s success, while newcomers might need to build their influence online before landing major roles, reshaping the traditional path from small parts to stardom.
Audiences are making it clear that what matters most is not production efficiency, but the emotional impact of performance. Human acting—even imperfect—remains far more compelling than technically flawless but emotionally empty AI performances. This wave of rejection serves as a warning to the industry: technology must serve the story and the emotion, not replace it.
Looking forward, China’s film and television industry may adopt a collaborative model where AI handles standardized, repetitive tasks, while human actors remain central for delivering emotional depth, complex characterization, and the subtle storytelling that machines cannot replicate.





