Preity Zinta approaches Bombay High Court to take down AI deepfake content; next hearing scheduled on July 6

Actor Preity Zinta has approached the Bombay High Court seeking the removal of AI-generated deepfake videos, morphed images and other unauthorised content featuring her from social media and online platforms. The actress has also sought an injunction to prevent the publication and circulation of such content in the future. The matter came up for hearing before a single bench of Justice Madhav Jamdar on Friday. After hearing preliminary submissions, the court directed the parties, including the online platforms concerned, to work out a mechanism for taking down the allegedly offending material. The matter has now been listed for further hearing on July 6. Preity Zinta seeks removal of AI-generated content In her civil suit, Preity Zinta has referred to multiple instances of AI-generated deepfakes, morphed visuals and chatbot-style interactions that allegedly use her likeness without authorisation. According to the plea, the actress has sought urgent directions from the Bombay High Cour...

‘I’m not a saint’: Abel Ferrara on his wild career, rehab and nightclubbing with Donald Trump

The last time our writer interviewed him, the drugged up director dozed off then asked for coke. Now sober, he reflects on #MeToo, Italian fascism and his fight for the final cut

The last time I met Abel Ferrara, he dozed off in the middle of our interview then woke up and asked me to score him some coke. It was 1996, and he was in the UK promoting his gangster drama The Funeral – which the actor Vincent Gallo alleged Ferrara had been too blitzed on crack to direct properly – and his vampire horror The Addiction. He was on a roll, his reputation fortified by King of New York, starring Christopher Walken as a flamboyant crime boss, and the gruelling Bad Lieutenant, with Harvey Keitel as a bent junkie cop. Ferrara was the scuzzball Scorsese: no matter how celebrated he became, he never shed the patina of grime from his early days as the star and director of porn film The Nine Lives of a Wet Pussy and the infamous “video nasty” The Driller Killer.

“You were the guy I fell asleep with?” he gasps now from his bright, high-ceilinged living room in Rome. He is calling via Zoom, his laptop resting on a shelf so he can pace around as he speaks, drinking from a bottle of San Pellegrino that he clutches by the neck. “You’re the guy? I’m sorry, man! Really, really.” Then he switches tack. “You let me down! You were 24, living in London, and you didn’t know where to score?” He shakes his head in disbelief. “All right. So where could we get some now?” A sandpapery cackle fills the air as he rocks on his heels. His hunched posture and jutting jaw make him the spit of the cartoon dog Muttley. He laughs like him, too.

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