A Star Wars Trilogy: Examining the Legal Implications of Disney’s Three Posthumous Uses of AI and CGI

In 1977, American filmmaker George Lucas envisioned a science-fiction adventure that would ultimately transform the entertainment industry’s approach to creative storytelling and filmmaking.1 Eleven movies and nearly 50 years later, Lucasfilm and Disney continue to shape the moviemaking landscape.2 The growth of expanded universes across interconnected storylines in film and television has made it more common for actors to reprise the same role across multiple projects.3 When a franchise like Star Wars continues to produce content for over half a century, beloved actors will inevitably pass before their characters’ narratives conclude.4 Given this reality, filmmakers were once limited to two options, both of which often left a sour taste in fans’ mouths: a less-than-seamless recast or an abrupt off-screen write-off.5

However, with the rise of digital recreation through artificial intelligence (AI) and computer-generated imagery (CGI), characters can now live forever. While ethical questions surround AI and celebrity privacy, digital recreation presents an unequivocally groundbreaking ability to prolong intricate storytelling.6

AI’s Legal Guardrails

Roger Guyett, visual effects supervisor on Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker (Episode IX), compared digital recreation to a “magic trick.”7 But before the magic begins, the first step is vital: “Like all the ethical lines in A.I., it’s going to come down to permission.”8 This principle was enforced on September 19, 2024, when California passed Bill No. 1836, which stipulates that anyone who produces, distributes, or makes available the “digital replica” of a deceased personality’s voice or likeness without consent will be liable for at least ten thousand dollars or actual damages (with limited exceptions).9 A “digital replica” is defined as “a computer-generated, highly realistic electronic representation” of an individual’s voice or visual likeness.10

As technology evolves, so do the complexities of ownership and legacy.11 The ability to digitally resurrect actors offers new creative possibilities, but also raises concerns about consent, control, and the preservation of artistic intent.12 While these tools can ensure the continuity of beloved characters, they also complicate questions around the authenticity of performance and may undermine the value of professional voice actors whose craft relies on interpretation, nuance, and originality.13

But how does digital recreation intersect with the concept of permission throughout existing legal frameworks? Star Wars, in particular, offers three distinct examples of both adherence to and potential violations of digital recreation rights.

Episode I – Carrie Fisher’s Princess Leia Lives On

Following Disney’s acquisition of Lucasfilm and the intellectual property rights to the Star Wars universe in 2012, one of its first orders of business was to reignite the franchise with new characters while nostalgically incorporating original fan favorites.14 Thus, in 2015, Disney released Star Wars: The Force Awakens (Episode VII) and immediately began production on two subsequent films, scheduled for release in 2017 and 2019.15 However, the devastating and untimely death of Carrie Fisher in 2016 raised concerns about the future of her treasured character, Princess Leia Organa.16

Nevertheless, Director J.J. Abrams continued to prioritize her inclusion, utilizing CGI to build “a digital Carrie” because, as he stated in pre-production, “I [still] want Princess Leia to be played by Carrie Fisher.”17 Before proceeding, however, Disney required permission; fortunately, Fisher’s estate emphatically approved the use of Carrie’s voice and visual likeness in the two films following her death, as well as in a spin-off movie that employed de-aging technology.18 To further honor Fisher’s legacy, Abrams included Billie Lourd, the late actress’s daughter, as a body double for her mother during some of the movie’s most crucial scenes.19 In regard to the finished product, Salon staff writer Matthew Rozsa noted, “one could easily watch this movie and not have guessed that Fisher had died three years before its release.”20

Episode II – The Eternal Voice of James Earl Jones’ Darth Vader

Unlike cases where estates grant posthumous approval for a “digital replica” of an individual’s voice or likeness, James Earl Jones, of his own accord, transferred the rights to his voice to Disney in 2022.21 This decision allowed the studio to use AI technology to preserve his legendary portrayal of Darth Vader.22 Jones was introduced to Respeecher, a Ukrainian start-up pioneering synthetic speech technology that “uses preexisting audio recordings to ‘train’ an artificial intelligence program to replicate a certain person’s voice.”23 According to multimedia content and consumer tech writer Emma Roth of The Verge, AI will analyze Jones’ stock recordings and recreate sound bites to “clone” the actor’s voice, allowing the studio to produce unlimited renditions of iconic Darth Vader dialogue without the actor’s presence.24 With proper legal guardrails in place through inter vivos (i.e., during life) permission, the artistic advancements in voice technology may outweigh any trepidation, allowing fans to enjoy his talent and legacy forever.

Episode III – Peter Cushing’s Grand Moff Tarkin Controversy

In 2016, Disney brought the late Peter Cushing back to the big screen as the menacing Grand Moff Tarkin.25 Thanks to AI technology, Cushing reprised his role from the original Star Wars: A New Hope (Episode IV) in 2016’s Rogue One.26 Despite having passed away 22 years before Rogue One’s release, the actor appeared nearly identical to his original portrayal. Disney believed it held perpetual rights to recreate Cushing’s likeness established by the contract signed in the 1970s for the original Star Wars trilogy.27 However, Kevin Francis of Tyburn Film Productions, a film producer and friend of Cushing, filed a lawsuit in the United Kingdom, claiming that a separate agreement he made with Cushing in 1993 prohibited the use of the actor’s likeness without consent, which Francis argues was violated when the defendants digitally recreated his image.28 A trial judgment is yet to be made, but Francis has asserted that the 1993 agreement gives him the authority to approve any recreation of Cushing’s likeness.29 This agreement, made a year before Cushing’s death at 81, forms the crux of the plaintiff’s case.30

Most recently, Disney made a payment of approximately thirty-seven thousand dollars to Cushing’s estate in an attempt to settle the matter, allegedly acknowledging potential concerns over the digital recreation.31 However, this effort failed to persuade Francis to withdraw the lawsuit.32 The ongoing litigation underscores the complex legal landscape surrounding digital image rights in film and highlights the field’s rapidly evolving and uncertain future.33

End Credits – “I Find Your Lack of Consent Disturbing”

At the end of the day, digital recreation isn’t merely about advancing technology or keeping stories alive; more importantly, it involves honoring the creative contributions of the original performers and respecting the legacy of their work. As filmmakers gain unprecedented tools to extend narratives and digitally preserve characters, the core question remains: who has the right to use a performer’s likeness—the creators or the performer’s estate—and how far can that control go before it becomes exploitative? While Hollywood’s legal and ethical boundaries have yet to fully form, California Bill No. 1836 and the principle of informed consent remain a vital foundation. So, today’s simple answer: secure permission.34

An actor’s likeness may ultimately be governed by either the actor’s own posthumous wishes, their estate’s decisions, or prior contractual obligations, depending on which source holds legal authority.35 Samuel L. Jackson, who played the legendary Mace Windu in Star Wars Episodes I-III and continues to bring brilliant characters to life, is a perfect example of someone who has publicly stated that he wants his work to die with him.36 Before signing any contract, Jackson makes sure to remove phrases like “in perpetuity” and “known and unknown [modes of media and versions of his likeness]” to prevent AI-generated content from being used after his death.37 As AI continues to reshape the film industry, this is an important reminder that while technology can unlock new storytelling possibilities, film and media production companies must operate with a foundation of consent and compliance.