A few days ago I shared a reflection after watching the new Masters of the Universe trailer. Nothing especially explosive, or so I thought. Basically, my point was simple: the trailer is fine. It’s okay. It’s watchable. But it doesn’t hit you in the face. It doesn’t make you go, “holy shit.” And what really caught my attention was that an AI-generated clip made by someone with way fewer resources captured the essence, the aesthetic, and the tone of the franchise much better.
Images from the new Masters of the Universe movie trailer.
AI-generated images inspired by the original Masters of the Universe aesthetic.
What followed wasn’t really a debate about cinema or identity. It was something else entirely: how we interpret things based on who we are and the baggage we bring with us.
A lot of people didn’t see the example. They didn’t see the context. They didn’t see the comparison. They saw one word: AI. And the moment that word appeared, every alarm went off.
“AI is bad.”
“AI kills jobs.”
“AI lowers the bar.”
And that’s when it became obvious to me: most people weren’t reacting to what I was actually saying. They were reacting to what they had already decided before even reading.
I wasn’t defending AI as a replacement for human talent. I was pointing at something far more uncomfortable. Masters of the Universe is a franchise with a very strong, very defined identity. And in this new movie, that identity hasn’t been respected or elevated. It smells like an economic decision, not a creative one. Like the bar was lowered to fit budgets, marketing decks, merch, and fast returns. When you compare that to an AI-made clip that, with way fewer resources, stays much closer to the original spirit, the contrast is obvious.
That’s the point. Not AI. The contrast.
There’s also an important part that didn’t really come up, and it explains a lot of the reactions. I’ve been talking about AI for a long time as a tool, not as a substitute for what I do. In my case, AI helps me with logistics, email management, social media, content planning, organization, and creative processes. Stuff that eats up insane amounts of time and energy. Time that I can now spend doing what I actually love: painting.
For me, it’s an incredible new tool that helps me move faster through processes that used to drain me. And still, some people jump in with: “Well yeah, now it’s easier, it has less merit.” Honestly? That’s a massive contradiction and some next-level bullshit. Saying that just means you don’t get the point. Everyone works in the way that suits them best. Everyone chooses tools based on how they fit their process, their ambition, and how hard they want to push themselves.
Personally, I’m extremely demanding with myself and I work my ass off. Anyone who actually knows my work knows that. And yet I keep hearing this weird take: “With the incredible work you do, it’s a shame you use AI.” That’s not a critique. That’s fear.
I get that AI is replacing certain businesses. I get the conversation about energy consumption, resources, environmental impact. All of that is fair. But let’s not be hypocrites. We live surrounded by industries that pollute, devour natural resources, and cause massive damage, and most of that gets a free pass because “that’s how it’s always been.” The issue isn’t ethics. The issue is that AI arrived fast and shook people’s insecurities.
Tools have always changed. Always. By that logic, I should be grinding my own natural pigments and cooking my own resins to make acrylic paint, because buying them in a store is “too easy.” Or stop using Photoshop. Or digital cameras. Or printers. Tools don’t lower the bar. Comfort does.
There’s another thing that needs to be said. When someone pulls a topic out of context, I give my point of view. My opinion. And that doesn’t always sit well. Straight away comes the classic: “You can’t take criticism.” No, man. That’s not it at all. I’m very open to criticism, debate, and different perspectives. What I don’t tolerate is the expectation that I have to please people who come at me with a mindset I don’t agree with.
If you don’t like how I speak, what I say, or the topics I touch, it’s pretty simple: you can leave. Don’t watch my content. Don’t comment. Don’t ask questions. Don’t jump into the debate. Nobody’s forcing you to be here. Maybe you’re not ready for a real conversation, for putting your own bullshit aside for a second and trying to understand the real world. The one that exists far away from trends, clichés, and moral preaching.
Anyone who knows me knows how I am. No filters, but with respect. I’m not here to make friends, and I’m definitely not here to please anyone. If you say dumb shit, the only thing you’ll get is me telling you it’s dumb shit. I’m not going to stroke your ego or sugarcoat anything. So you can pack it up, take your ego and your yes-men, and go comment on some other account where they’ll pat you on the back and tell you what you want to hear.
I’m 46 years old. I’ve been around the block more times than I can count. I’m way past this nonsense. I don’t have time for bullshit or for comments wrapped in “moral high ground 2.0.”
And maybe the most interesting thing about all of this isn’t AI, or He-Man, or Hollywood. It’s how we react. How we read. Where we read from. Which words blind us and which debates we drag around without even realizing it. Because most of the time, we’re not arguing ideas. We’re arguing fears.
All this noise around AI has only confirmed something I already knew. This debate isn’t about technology. It’s about the industry. About how decisions are made. About how ideas get emptied out so they fit budgets, metrics, and fast ROI. About how powerful franchises get used without the respect or ambition they deserve.
That’s why the next post won’t be about AI. It’ll be about the creative industry. About cinema. About Hollywood. About big and small production companies. And about how we’ve normalized lowering the bar while selling nostalgia, branding, and merch.