In spring 2025, OpenAI rolled out an update to ChatGPT that included a new image generator. The update quickly gained immense popularity because it allowed users to effortlessly create polished, custom images from simple text prompts. But what kind of wild creations would users dream up?

Most users turned to the tool to generate images of celebrities, movie scenes, and viral meme formats—all reimagined in the distinctive style of Japanese animator Hayao Miyazaki’s Studio Ghibli. Within hours, the internet was flooded with uncanny, Ghibli-esque images, including a Miyazaki-style portrayal of Kramer from Seinfeld, Mike Tyson, and Leonardo DiCaprio pointing at himself on TV.

These AI-generated images reveal much about the current state of artificial intelligence and creative work. They highlight the prevalence of copyright infringement—or at least the blurring of copyright boundaries—that underpins companies like OpenAI and Anthropic. They also present AI as a warm and friendly tool, despite its potential to transform—or even inadvertently destroy—society.

Worse still, the technology appropriates the work of an artist who has openly criticized it. In a 2016 clip that has circulated widely in recent years, Miyazaki expressed his disgust with AI animation, stating,

I strongly feel that this is an insult to life itself.

The format of these AI prompts—[Blank] meets [Blank] or [Blank] in the style of [Blank]—has become the defining structure of generative AI content. Yet this prompt format is not new; it mirrors the Hollywood elevator pitch, a tool used for decades to pitch derivative ideas. In today’s TV industry, dominated by private equity, this rigid, risk-averse approach has become the norm. The creative logic of generative AI reflects the lowest-common-denominator vision of art that permeates an increasingly derivative media landscape.

Critics often point to this trend when a cynically conceived show fails, dismissing it as feeling like a ChatGPT prompt. Yet many of today’s greatest TV writers have adapted to this combinative style, becoming skilled prompt hackers. Shows like Severance blend The Office with Lost, while Andor reimagines The Wire in the style of The Mandalorian. These are simple ways to make risks feel safe and complex ideas more digestible.

Culture today is often described as stuck, directionless, stale, or deliberately stagnant—a result of preprocessed, algorithmically generated content. On television, this manifests as a constant churn of reboots, an unyielding devotion to existing intellectual property, and content that feels like an algorithmically synthesized protein bar.

Occasionally, however, a show emerges that defies these conventions. A show so extravagantly original, blending influences in a way that creates something entirely new. That show is Widow’s Bay.