Every once in a while, I get asked what I’ll do when AI takes over my work. Thank goodness French filmmaker Quentin Dupieux has given me plenty of ammunition to squash that line of inquiry once and for all.

I always dread coming to Cannes and that isn’t because the festival is not to my liking. Quite the opposite really. I love it but usually don’t manage to do it all and watch it all. This time around, be it for the great company I had on the flight over, or maybe the generous ride that colleague offered to me into la ville, or maybe writing for my own self this time around and having the credentials to go with that, I kicked off the festival with a positive bang. It’s raining, it’s overcrowded but I’ve managed to secure a ticket or a special screening for everything I came here wanting to watch. And beyond.

I also have an apartment that is strategically located between the Palais and the tourists. I see what people come to Cannes to experience and it makes me joyful to run into regular folks, not involved in cinema but rather the good ol’ audiences of tomorrow, wandering about. It makes this gigantic market of film make sense, somehow.

There are always signs of bureaucracy rearing its ugly head, as is typical with a festival, but no shadow of a strike which was a dark, looming presence over the fun festivities ahead during the past couple of weeks. And has been averted is seems, without much fanfare.

I won’t give anything about it away, since the film is still under embargo, thought I can say that An Unfinished Film, the upcoming docufiction film directed by Lou Ye and part of the Official Selection’s Special Screenings does offer a vision of a world where bureaucracy runs rampant and begins to take over the lives of an entire population. That is not a happy thought. And perhaps the Chinese film also offers an idea of why Chinese investments might never be a good choice for Westerners. Too much is kept hidden from the Western world. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

The opening film. Yes, that and AI. So, The Second Act is a film about film, and that film — where we often can’t figure out if the actors are acting in the first or the second film-within-the-film — is meant to be the first one written and directed completely by AI. Needless to say, the dialogue is tired, the direction consists nearly always of two people talking loftily, in long sweeping dialogues shot on a dolly. And editing… well, as in a lot of real filmmakers’ work these days, nearly nonexistent. And it’s meant to be that way!

Black comedies are Quentin Dupieux’s forte. He’s good at pushing the envelope and in the process, pushing our buttons. From Yannick, to Mandibles, from Deerskin to Daaaaaalí! he’s the man for dark, talky films that make us think and laugh till we cry.

The Second Act doesn’t stray far from that formula, if that’s what we wish to call it. Only it adds an extra layer of thoughts, as watching films made by AI doesn’t turn out to be such a great idea after all. And if we end up not liking The Second Act, well Dupieux will blame it on Artificial Intelligence and the algorithm, I’m guessing.

The actors he employs to tell his absurd yet cautionary tale are a familiar quintet. Léa Seydoux as Florence, Vincent Lindon as Guillaume, Louis Garrel as David, Raphaël Quenard as Willy and Manuel Guillot as Stéphane — the nervous extra who made me giggle out loud, for a while… Expect things to get dark and thought-provoking towards the end. And that’s me not giving you any spoilers.

From personal experience, I do believe AI will substitute a lot of our artistic work. But only for the work of some, whose artistic vision maybe leaves something to be desired in the first place. Like the sub-editor at a publication which shall remains nameless, to which I submitted a piece and will never again do so. This young woman thought to change my whole writing so as to make herself useful, adding in their big words (which they fail to understand but use anyway) and impossible to follow thought processes filled with typos and syntax issues. I mean, if you get a piece written by me, and you’re a publication which needs improving, you don’t go out of your way to make my writing dumber. You use it to improve your website in the future, n’est pas? I mean, the NY Times you ain’t… And what isn’t broken doesn’t need fixing. Get my drift.

As my friend said, about some critical publications which have passed their due date in terms of writing freshness, “the old style of film reviewing doesn’t appeal to readers anymore.” Amen.

Image courtesy of the Festival de Cannes.