THE STORY – A father-to-be tries to figure out what is happening with all this AI insanity.
THE CAST – Daniel Roher
THE TEAM – Daniel Roher & Charlie Tyrell (Directors)
THE RUNNING TIME – 103 Minutes
Is there any bigger buzzword of the past 18 months than AI? Artificial intelligence has exploded into everyday life, shaping how we work, communicate, and even how we check the weather. Every major company now claims to be “AI-first,” and even grandparents are casually asking “the AI” for advice. At the same time, a massive investment bubble looms, fueled by staggering amounts of money pouring into tech companies. AI has become such a broad, slippery term that few people truly understand how it works, how fast it’s evolving, or what its future might hold. Everyone seems to have an opinion, but how many of us really know what we’re talking about?
That uncertainty is exactly where Daniel Roher comes in. The Academy Award–winning filmmaker behind “Navalny” doesn’t pretend to be an AI expert. In fact, he openly admits he isn’t one. That lack of expertise is what inspired him to make “The AI Doc: Or How I Became an Apocaloptimist.” As Roher and his wife, director Caroline Liddy (“Your Monster”), prepared to welcome their first child, he found himself thinking more deeply about the future. When so many voices are warning that AI could doom humanity, it puts a damper on plans for the next generation. That personal anxiety becomes the film’s emotional entry point. What begins as an intimate story soon expands into a sweeping, artful, and remarkably thorough exploration of artificial intelligence.
Working with co-director Charlie Tyrell, Roher assembles an impressive range of researchers, scientists, and industry leaders to examine where AI may be headed. The central questions are unavoidable: Is AI a threat to humanity? Are we headed toward catastrophe? Or is this technology a powerful tool that could help solve global problems? Early on, the film leans into darker possibilities. Leading experts describe systems that learn and evolve beyond full human understanding, fueled by corporate competition that rewards speed over caution. This new technological arms race encourages companies to cut corners in pursuit of dominance. Hearing these warnings, delivered by the people closest to the technology, is genuinely unsettling.
But the film does not remain in despair. Roher soon encounters a competing philosophy: techno-optimism. These thinkers acknowledge the risks while arguing that AI itself may help contain them. They compare today’s fears to earlier anxieties about technologies that ultimately benefited society. In their view, AI will provide humanity with increasingly powerful tools to confront environmental, medical, and social challenges. Faced with these opposing visions, the film suggests that the truth likely lies somewhere in between.
Throughout the journey, Roher positions himself as a stand-in for the audience. When explanations become too technical, he pushes back, asking questions that viewers are likely to be thinking. The camera often returns to him as he processes the emotional weight of what he’s learning. This approach allows “The AI Doc” to pull off an impressive balancing act. It delivers dense, wide-ranging information without becoming overwhelming. Complex ideas are distilled into clear, relatable terms, supported by a diverse lineup of experts who break down the science without talking down to the audience. Despite its heavy subject matter, the film is also surprisingly funny, fully aware of how surreal it is to be seriously debating whether science fiction scenarios might become reality.
Much of the film’s accessibility comes from its striking visual style. Roher frequently sketches and paints as he travels, and those drawings become a central storytelling device. His artwork is animated and expanded through a range of techniques, including watercolor, pencil sketches, stop-motion, and claymation. These visuals do not just decorate the film. They help translate abstract ideas into something tangible. In a sense, the documentary fights information overload with creative overload, surrounding viewers with imagery that keeps them engaged and grounded. It is both effective and a genuine pleasure to watch.
One of the film’s greatest strengths is its responsiveness to audience curiosity. Questions about corporate greed, environmental costs, and resource consumption arise naturally, and the documentary consistently anticipates them. Just as frustration begins to build, the film pivots to address those very concerns. This instinctive dialogue with the viewer is a hallmark of great nonfiction filmmaking.
Of course, AI is evolving at a breakneck pace. As one expert points out, parts of the film will inevitably feel outdated by the time audiences see it. Roher embraces this reality, emphasizing that the larger ethical and philosophical questions matter more than any single technological advance. True to its subtitle, the film ultimately leans toward cautious optimism, leaving viewers informed, challenged, and unexpectedly hopeful.
Daniel Roher has long proven himself a skilled documentarian. With “The AI Doc: Or How I Became an Apocaloptimist,” he delivers his most ambitious and engaging work yet, one that may well cement him as a major voice in contemporary nonfiction filmmaking.
