At this year’s South by Southwest (SXSW) festival in Austin, Texas, a striking and unusual sight greeted attendees: where the city’s convention center once stood was now a massive, gaping dirt hole, stretching across several blocks. Though the festival itself pressed on with events held in surrounding hotels, the absence of this central venue loomed like a symbolic reminder of the upheaval and uncertainty characterizing our current moment—one marked by rapid advancements and disruptions brought on by artificial intelligence (AI) and other emerging technologies. This symbolic void seemed to embody the chaotic, unsettled state of the world in 2026, as humanity grapples with how to coexist with AI’s growing influence.
Walking through the festival, I was struck by a pervasive atmosphere of curiosity, ambivalence, and even unease toward AI. Rather than outright rejecting or fearing the technology, SXSW appeared to awkwardly embrace it, even challenge it, offering glimpses of what life and art might look like in a future infused with AI. Everywhere I turned, there were pockets of experimentation—interactive installations, games, art exhibits, and conversations probing how AI is reshaping creativity, identity, and society. The overwhelming presence of AI-generated content—texts, images, deepfakes, music—and autonomous AI agents interacting on their own social networks created a sense of overload. It was clear that people were wrestling with profound questions: Do we flee from AI or fight it? Should we destroy it or harness it? Can art serve as a tool to question and challenge AI’s place in our lives?
SXSW provided many answers—albeit partial and tentative—through a series of fascinating, if sometimes flawed, explorations that highlighted both AI’s creative potential and its disruptive pitfalls.
One of the most successful and enjoyable uses of AI I encountered was in the VR game Fabula Rasa: Dead Man Talking, developed by the game studio Arvore. In a hotel ballroom, donning a VR headset, I found myself imprisoned in a cage, dangling precariously over the mouth of a monster, accused of offending the King. My only hope was to plead my case to a cast of cartoonish fantasy characters. What made this experience unique was that the characters’ dialogue was generated on the fly by an AI, specifically Claude, which improvised responses based on scripts written by a human writing team. The result was surprisingly funny and engaging.
The AI-powered conversations felt delightfully absurd and frazzled, perfectly matching the game’s whimsical tone. There was a slight delay as the AI formulated replies, a common issue in generative dialogue systems, but it didn’t detract from the experience. As I played, inventing the persona of a reckless magician and improvising with the characters, I was left wondering about the future of role-playing games (RPGs). Could AI enable games to feature truly dynamic, responsive dialogue that feels as custom-crafted as traditional writing? For writers, this prospect is both thrilling and unsettling. The potential for indie developers to expand storytelling horizons is vast, but it also raises questions about authorship and creativity in an AI-driven age.
In contrast, another AI-driven game called Love Bird, directed by Cameron Kostopoulos, fell short of expectations. This interactive game show experience began promisingly with a clever onboarding process: an AI chatbot acting as a “producer” called me on my phone and interviewed me with quick, witty responses. However, once inside the game, where I competed against others while menacing bird-people threatened to devour us, the experience became chaotic and confusing. Conversations with the AI host and participants devolved into broken loops, forcing us to quit early.
Love Bird was fast-paced and responsive but lacked a sense of attentiveness or coherence, leaving me overwhelmed rather than engaged. Perhaps the chaos was intentional, but it ultimately made me long for quieter, more contemplative immersive experiences. For me, the best immersive art often thrives in stillness and space rather than in relentless conversation or AI-generated bombardment.
Beyond games, AI’s role in art and personal embodiment was explored in compelling ways at SXSW. In one exhibit, The Great Dictator, directed by Gabo Arora, I stood at a podium and read an excerpt of New York Mayor Zohran Mamdani’s acceptance speech while videos of cheering crowds played behind me, seemingly reacting to my voice. Moments later, AI-generated audio of me delivering more of Mamdani’s speech played alongside inspirational film clips