An update from PlayStation Studios: After careful consideration, we have made the difficult decision to step away from collaborating with KOJIMA PRODUCTIONS on its project PHYSINT. We continue to have great admiration for Hideo Kojima's vision for the game.
Our relationship remains strong after three decades of industry-leading, genre-defining creative cooperation, and we look forward to continued close collaboration with Hideo Kojima and his award-winning independent studio in the future.
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I FOUND AN AI ACCOUNT PULLING VIEWS ON A GIRL WHO DOES NOTHING. 10 SECONDS. ONE CHAIR. ONE ROOM. SHE JUST SITS THERE AND LOOKS AT YOU. YOU HAVE SCROLLED PAST A HUNDRED OF THESE AND NEVER ONCE ASKED IF SHE WAS REAL. Thread.
She is in the middle of a quiet room, hands folded in her lap, looking straight into the lens. That is the whole clip. That is not what is happening. Nobody was ever in that room.
0:01. She holds the center of the frame and looks at you. No motion, no cut, no reason to doubt it. A still face is where these clips usually rot. The features start to swim, the eyes drift apart, the jaw goes soft. Hers does not move a millimeter it should not.
0:05. Her eyelids come down and lift, and her head tilts a few degrees. Watch the shadow under her jaw slide with it. AI usually freezes the light and moves the head anyway, so the face floats off its own shadow. Here the shadow follows the tilt. The blink lands off the beat, the way a real one does, never on a loop.
0:09. She settles back to center and just breathes. Ten full seconds, same person, same room behind her, nothing warping at the edges. Holding still is the hard part. Motion hides the seams. Stillness shows every one, and this one has none to show.
This is why it works. There is no stunt. A chair, a room, a woman who is only sitting. Nothing asks to be believed because nothing is trying to impress you. The realism hides inside how little happens.
You will scroll past ten more like her today and clock none of them. There was no chair, no room, and no her.
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A director who doesn't come up to the builder's heels makes a four-hour film about him.
Yesterday in Venice, Alex Gibney's nearly four-hour documentary "Musk" had its world premiere. It is a classic case of someone who has spent a career telling other people's stories taking on a man who actually builds those stories with rockets, cars, satellites, and infrastructure, not slides.
Alex Gibney is an acclaimed documentarian. An Oscar for Taxi to the Dark Side, Emmys for Going Clear on Scientology, high-profile films on Enron, Elizabeth Holmes and Theranos. His specialty is exposing corporations, cults, and frauds. He does it skillfully and with a thesis. The problem starts when he applies the same method to someone who is not selling an illusion, but hardware that either flies or blows up in front of the entire world.
Gibney's fuel is controversy. Elon's fuel is the pursuit of truth hard, engineering truth, the kind that either works on the test stand or it doesn't. It would have been enough to make a film based on facts. Instead we got another rut that fits the slogans of provocation: megalomaniac, confidence man, threat to democracy, an AI avatar reciting old quotes, ex-wives, his father, a former partner. Musk said in 2023 it would be a hit piece. After the premiere, a large share of reviewers effectively agreed with him.
I don't know about you, but four hours of falsified formulas would bore me. Instead I watch how much Elon has already done. His energy is extraordinary. Tesla changed the car industry. SpaceX brings rockets back. Starlink works. Starship stands on the pad and prepares for the next flight. This is not a PowerPoint. It is steel, fuel, engines, and people who cannot hide failure in the edit suite.
A weak documentary like this is a crumb on the shoulder of his jacket. Now it depends on us when and how quickly that blown-off crumb a utopian attention vampire is simply starved of attention. You could list the names of people who tried to take Elon's energy. Energy is the most precious thing we have. Anyone who steals it with slogans, gossip, and a four-hour indictment that excludes the main subject is sowing under his own feet.
Gibney: you reap what you sow. If you have a shred of shame, look at the list of Elon's accomplishments. Look at what kind of person he is for the world and what he does around himself so that things get better cars that drive, internet from orbit, rockets that return, attempts at a brain-computer interface, AI that is supposed to be more than another chatbot. You can dislike his tweets, his political alliances. You cannot honestly erase the scale of what was physically built.
A good documentarian should stand, at least for a moment, in the shoes of the person he is portraying. Gibney did not just fail to do that. He took a measure cut for Enron and Holmes and held it up to a man who lands rockets. He left Elon's shoes in the edit suite. Elon walked on barefoot and kept building.
One man tells stories about the world from an editing chair. The other moves that world. A four-hour film will not change that. At most it will confirm what people who already disliked Musk already believed. Everyone else can blow the crumb off the jacket and keep going.
History does not judge a man by the length of a film. It judges him by what is still in the air when the camera has stopped running.
Controversy feeds on attention. Building feeds on repetition. One vanishes when you look away. The other keeps flying.
You can cut a man together in four hours. You cannot cut a landing together.
A documentary can be switched off. The work cannot.
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