Virtual Celebrities and AI Influencers: The Next Stars of Film and TV?

Modern studios face a difficult challenge: audiences want more content, faster, and across more platforms. While streaming and social media have trained viewers to expect instant releases, traditional production remains slow and expensive. A single scheduling conflict or weather delay can stall a project for months, making it hard for studios to keep up with the constant demand for new stories.

To bridge this gap, many are turning to virtual celebrities and AI influencers, digital stars that can keep a franchise active between seasons and handle social media marketing without the need for expensive, time-consuming shoots. While they offer a way to stay connected with fans instantly, their rise raises a major question: does this shift mean human actors are becoming less necessary?

Read on as we discuss:

What virtual celebrities and AI influencers actually are
Why studios and streamers are choosing to use virtual talent right now.
Where virtual talent fits best in the current film and TV landscape.
What makes viewers accept a virtual star, and what causes them to lose interest.
The biggest concerns regarding consent and reputation, along with the guardrails used to manage them.
What this shift means for the future of casting and intellectual property (IP).

By the end of this article, you will understand when virtual talent is a smart production choice and when it becomes a risk to audience trust.

What are virtual celebrities and AI influencers?

To understand how they might replace or help humans, we first have to look at what they actually are. A virtual celebrity is a fictional character with a consistent personality and look that never ages, like the digital model Lil Miquela. An AI influencer is similar but built specifically for social media speed; characters like Rozy in South Korea can "post" daily lifestyle and brand content without ever needing a physical film set or a camera crew.

These are different from a digital double, which is a computer-generated copy of a real person. You might recognize this from movies like Rogue One, where filmmakers used technology to bring back the likeness of actor Peter Cushing.

Most of these digital stars are built using:

Visual design: Creating a 2D or 3D character from scratch.
Voice and motion: Using either human actors or AI to provide the character's speech and movement.
Brand control: A strict process to make sure the character always stays on-script.

Why studios and streamers want them

So, why go through all this technical effort? Studios are doing it to solve the specific production problems discussed earlier:

A virtual performer never gets sick, misses a flight, or has a scheduling conflict. If a scene needs changes, creators can fix it on a computer without waiting for a human actor to be available.
Brands love predictability. A virtual influencer like Rozy is a "safe" marketing asset because she will never have a public scandal or go off-script, which protects the company's reputation.
A digital character can live across movies, games, and social media all at once without tiring out a human actor. Studios can even change the language or style to fit different countries while keeping the character’s core identity.

You can clearly see this "everywhere at once" model with Hatsune Miku. She is a virtual pop star who performs huge live concerts and appears in games like Fortnite simultaneously. Because she isn't human, she can be an ongoing, interactive brand that never stops working.

Where virtual talent fits in film and TV today

Of course, just because these characters offer practical benefits doesn't mean they can replace human actors in every role. Right now, they work best in specific spots where perfect realism isn't required, such as:

Animated and stylized roles: If a show is already animated, audiences accept a non-human performer easily. This is why VTubers like Kizuna AI successfully moved from streaming to traditional TV in Japan—the format matched their look.
In-world media and hosts: A virtual character works perfectly as a news anchor on a TV screen, a hologram MC, or a fictional celebrity inside a story. This allows them to be part of the world without needing to act out deep emotions next to real people.
Limited hybrid scenes: Studios use them for short, controlled moments in real settings. Lil Miquela’s campaign with BMW worked because it embraced the "digital meets real" contrast instead of trying to fool viewers into thinking she was human.

What makes audiences care, not just click

Finding the right role is only the first step. Even if a character looks perfect on screen, audiences won't care unless they feel a real emotional connection.

Viewers don't bond with pixels; they bond with personality. A virtual celebrity needs consistent values and behavior, just like a real person. If they change their personality every week to fit a new trend, fans will lose interest.
If creators push for realism but miss the small human details, the character can look "uncanny" or creepy. This happened with Rogue One—while the technology was impressive, many viewers found the digital face distracting, which pulled them out of the story.
Virtual stars succeed when they show up in places that feel culturally real. Hatsune Miku’s concerts work because they include a live band and a cheering crowd, turning a digital projection into a shared human experience.

You can see this shift with the virtual model imma, who has been featured in serious discussions about the future of identity. This proves that virtual personas are no longer just marketing gimmicks—they are becoming real cultural figures.

The risks studios cannot ignore

If virtual celebrities are going to become "castable" alongside—or instead of—humans, the industry first has to deal with risks that go far beyond just making a movie.

Consent and rights: Bringing back an actor like Peter Cushing in Rogue One raised a huge question: who owns a person’s face and voice after they die? Without clear laws, studios face lawsuits from families or estates if they use a likeness without strict permission.
Disclosure and trust: If a studio hides that a character is AI, viewers can feel misled. That loss of trust is one reason regulators in countries like South Korea have been pushing for clearer labelling of AI-made content.
Reputation and bias: A virtual character can create posts instantly, but without human judgment, it can spread offensive stereotypes just as fast. FN Meka, an "AI rapper," was signed and then quickly dropped by a major record label because his design and lyrics promoted harmful racial stereotypes.

To protect against these dangers, studios are adopting non-negotiable guardrails: documented consent for likeness and voice use, clear disclosure rules, licensed inputs so content is not built on stolen data, and human review for high-impact scenes and story decisions.

The future of casting

So, does this mean human actors are obsolete? Absolutely not. While AI can mimic a face or a voice, it cannot replicate the raw emotion and empathy that connect an audience to a story.

Instead, the industry is moving toward a split of roles. Virtual talent fits “always-on” work like social updates, in-game appearances, and global hosting. Human actors still carry the parts that rely on lived nuance, chemistry, and trust—the core performances that make audiences care.