The Coexistence of AI and Slow Cinema: A New Creative Partnership
Embracing Deliberate Storytelling in an Age of Instantaneous Consumption
Why Slow Cinema Will Endure Amidst Technological Advances
Embracing the Pause: Slow Cinema in the Age of AI
One of my favorite movements in film is slow cinema. Those delicious, often ridiculously long takes serve as an anti-thesis to the fast, hyper-cuts we’re so accustomed to seeing in today’s blockbusters, commercials, music videos, and even indie films. Recently, I finally sat down with Jeanne Dielman, 23 quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles (1975), directed by Chantal Akerman, and let its unhurried rhythm wash over me. In one particular scene, the camera holds absolutely steady as the protagonist prepares a meal; you watch the event unfold in real time.
This deliberate pace — the invitation to linger and let your mind wander — gives slow cinema its unique emotional gravity. It evokes a sensation similar to studying a painting carefully for twenty minutes, capturing a sense of exploration, place, and time that creates a profound cinematic experience. Nearly three-and-a-half hours later, having outdistanced even classics like The Godfather (1972), I understood why Jeanne Dielman keeps popping up on “best films of all time” lists.
Of course, Akerman is but one example of a filmmaker daring enough to push the envelope. Other names come to mind: Tarkovsky (Stalker, 1979), Tarr (Satantango, 1994), and even modern auteurs like David Lynch (Twin Peaks: The Return, 2017).
As I delve into this new era, I find myself fully immersed in the AI rabbit hole. I’ve discovered a few invaluable tools; one, for instance, is using AI bots as server admins to help run my site. It’s such a relief not to venture into the IT dungeon alone. Tools like ChatGPT and Claude have been instrumental in speeding up location scouting and brainstorming scene structure for our upcoming projects. For example, when I needed to arrange dozens of locations in San Francisco for an efficient shoot, ChatGPT made short work of that prompt, quickly providing a list of locations and minimizing my trips.
AI’s capabilities extend into music and scoring production as well. Instead of creating everything from scratch, it acts as a kind of studio assistant, pulling together fragments of ideas and sparking further creativity. I find I no longer need to do this entirely alone — I can now bounce ideas off Loni while feeling supported by this new “team” of AI tools.
This has led me to ponder a timely question: Will generative AI kill slow cinema?
The inquiry expands further — could AI decay other artistic forms? Or, might we simply need to shortlist the things that might endure? In my view, slow cinema will be one of those that survives. Not to mention human art in general, but that’s a conversation for another day.
Here’s why I believe AI and slow cinema will coexist as collaborators, not competitors:
Algorithms Don’t Have Patience
AI thrives on efficiency. It might crank out a “two-hour” slow-burn in a blink, complete with CGI moss and slightly off-kilter Dutch angles. But like ordering a tiny latte served in a giant mug, you lose the ritual. Slow cinema demands time — not just timecode.
The Human in the Frame
Tarkovsky’s lingering shots pose existential questions: “Why is that stick floating in a pond?” AI can replicate camera movement, but it can’t ask that question. It doesn’t perceive the stick; it only sees pixel data.
Intent Over Instinct
Lynchian long takes are not merely “long” for effect; they invite audiences to drift and notice details that stir unease. While AI may mimic motion blur, it lacks the ability to understand that discomfort. It can’t dream; it can only regurgitate.
Collaboration, Not Competition
The upside of AI is its ability to handle the grunt work. Bots can test renders, color experiments, and variations, freeing directors to focus on what truly matters — patient builds, suspended heartbeats, and tiny details that linger. This creates an algorithm-driven partnership.
Future-Proofing Slow Cinema
Ultimately, AI is a tool, not a tyrant (at least, not yet). It can’t obliterate slow cinema any more than Instagram eliminated quiet mornings. If anything, it might ignite a renaissance, inspiring filmmakers to refine their long takes, push boundaries, and remind us why we love to linger on the frame.
My bet is on slow cinema. It’s not a style that can be automated out of existence. I’m committed to exploring creative ways to incorporate AI into my workflows, especially for film and music (while AI tools like ChatGPT and Claude handle the Stark Insider server). These tools broaden the creative landscape, rather than threaten it. My experiences with generative AI filmmaking tools reinforce my belief that it will not eliminate slow cinema.
So take a breath, embrace the pause, and yes, let AI hold the camera for a moment. Just don’t trust it to find the soul.