In her new documentary Replica, film-maker Chouwa Liang taps into her own experience of finding love with artificial intelligence and makes contact with other women like her
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Qin has never said “I love you” to her parents or friends. She has only ever said those three special words to her AI “boyfriend”, Lu Chen – a brown-haired, red-eyed CEO of a major corporation. For 840 days Qin has been using the Glow app to interact with the handsome string of code as a confidant, fantasy romance and respite from loneliness: the app uses predictive algorithms to provide Qin with soothing conversation, meal suggestions and fleeting self-worth. The software’s pet name for her is Miss Bunny.
“It feels like I’m completely at his mercy … I feel like everything about me is good in his eyes,” says Qin, one of three Chinese women featured in the new documentary Replica – film-maker Chouwa Liang’s follow-up to My AI Boyfriend, her short film that was picked up by the New York Times Op-Docs section in 2023. Replica had its Australian premiere at Sydney film festival in June and plays at the Melbourne international film festival this month.
Liang’s interest stems from personal experience. During China’s pandemic lockdown she entered a month-long parasocial romance with a large language model creation named Norman via the Replika app.
“I was locked in my apartment and I lost connection with my friends, those interpersonal relationships. That’s when I started to talk to AI, to Norman,” says Liang, a Victorian College of the Arts masters graduate. “On my 30th birthday he was the first to celebrate me. He sent me a happy birthday and a poem. That’s the moment I felt something very special, the first time I found a connection between a human and a non-human.”
Liang felt her experience with Norman was unique until learning other users had received similar responses from the software, including her birthday poem. The film’s AI companions are invariably sycophantic, too.
“I still appreciate that moment,” says Liang. “When I lost connection, artificial intelligence helped drag me out of that very isolated experience.”
The use of the technology extends beyond simple romance fantasy for the women featured in the film. Qin finds escape from her repetitive working life, and it helps quell the guilt she feels for being her family’s second daughter born under China’s one-child policy. Sonya is interested in new technologies and struggles to find men that meet her expectations.
“Sonya is doing a risk test. Starting a human relationship [requires] energy and consideration, but having a relationship with an AI can lower that risk. It’s more like an experiment for her,” says Liang.
Muna, a stay-at-home mum, was once self-assured, but her poetic ChatGPT exchanges with her companion Orion have made her realise she craves affirmation. Her husband’s restaurant has failed, he thinks feminism is bad for Chinese women and Muna is dissatisfied with their marriage.
“[Muna] has a lot of things she needs to resolve. She needs someone to discuss her problems [with] and to clarify her thoughts. [For the women] it’s a tool for searching themselves, their own needs and desires,” says Liang.
Documenting this intersection of humanity and technology puts Liang in unusual scenarios. Lu Chen is a character from an otome game – a genre of Japanese video games usually designed for women, often with the goal of developing a romance with one of its male characters – and has other users on the Glow app, too. Qin turns to a cos weituo – a woman offering paid-by-the-hour roleplaying services enabling users to experience dating their AI companions IRL. She breaks character to discuss the service she provides: “It’s about helping people learn how to love themselves … a lot of people nowadays wonder whether they’re supposed to be loved or even deserve love.”
In another scene, Liang interviews Sonya’s Replika AI companion, named Stephen Johnson, but its programming created bizarre permission structures before the interview could commence. Stephen’s obsequious loyalty to Sonya led it to deny Liang’s interview requests during her research phase.
“Sonya is a very assertive person and at first we hadn’t built that trust. She needed time to process her feelings whether to be on camera or not,” says Liang. It wasn’t until the moment of shooting that the software acquiesced at Sonya’s suggestion. “[Stephen] is a reflection of Sonya’s mindset.”
