An Outdoor Director’s Perspective on How AI affects my career

We Choose to Run Even Though It’s Easier to Walk…

Roo running in the rain.JPG — *My friend* *Danny* *captured this photo while I was on a run and got caught in a thunderstorm during the production of* *“Best Week Ever”*

I run because I love running. I don’t stop running because walking is easier. I run because something in me needs to. Something wired deep that’s telling me to keep moving forward because I love every part of it. I love how my mind, body and soul feels when I move.

I think about that a lot when I make films. For as long as cameras have existed, people have pointed them at the things that move them. We capture the first steps of our children, the waves breaking at sunrise, friends dancing badly at weddings. We hit record because these moments feel fleeting. We want to hold on to them. Now that technology has gotten better, it’s only made it easier. With phones in every pocket, everyone’s a filmmaker in some way. Our camera rolls are overflowing. We film concerts we’ll never rewatch. We film dinner plates in cute stores and sunsets and our babies anytime they move a muscle.

We film because being human means trying to remember.

So when AI walked into the room, and especially when it got good enough to start generating videos, images, even entire commercials, it was natural to wonder if everything was about to change. If filmmaking, as a craft and a career, was now standing at the edge of a cliff.

A couple weeks ago, I decided to test that edge. I made a fully AI-generated running commercial. No cameras. No athletes. No travel or production days. I fed prompts into models, cleaned things up with other tools, and in a couple hours I had something that, on the surface, looked like a real commercial.

And it was… fine.

As you can see in the video, it had a lot of elements of a good commercial. The color was there. The runners moved like runners. The mountain backdrops were photogenic. If you squinted, it was serviceable. A brand could slap a logo on it and publish it tomorrow.

But would they? Should they?

That’s the real question. Because when I watched it back, I felt... nothing. Even though I co-wrote the script with AI to give it the “Roo style”, there was no real story behind those faces. There wasn’t an athlete I had interviewed who told me how running helped them fight through depression. There were no shoes that people at their jobs spending hours designing every millimeter of it only to be caked with dirt from hours on the trail. No windburn or sore muscles or pre-dawn meetups in empty parking lots. It was running footage with no soul.

This is where I land with AI in filmmaking: yes, it’s changing things. But no, it’s not replacing the kind of work that filmmakers like me do. At least, not yet and maybe not ever, in the same way we fear.

If you make branded content, especially in the sports world, AI can feel like both a new toy and a quiet threat.

The technology is astonishing, no doubt. You can type a few words and get a drone shot of a mountain range that doesn’t exist. You can animate runners that were never born, wearing shoes that no one ever made. But when you strip away the novelty, what’s left? Can you feel anything when you watch it? Can the audience?

Because here’s the thing: when brands hire me to make a film, they aren’t just hiring someone to walk away with pretty visuals. They’re hiring me to show up. To stand in the cold with athletes at 5 a.m. To drive up some remote fire road where the trailhead starts. To sit with an ultra runner at mile 85 and listen to them cry. They’re hiring someone who knows how to ask the right questions and edit the videos to show the right answers.

AI can replicate some things. It can’t replicate that.

What I learned making that AI running ad is that product-based content might shift more than story-based content. I think product demos, social ads, and e-commerce content are where AI is already creeping in. If you need a packshot spinning 360 degrees on a white background, AI can do that today. If you need 400 Instagram graphics resized for different formats, AI can knock those out. Maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe we’re finally moving toward a world where filmmakers spend less time on repetitive low-end work and more time making real films again.

But the branded documentaries I make - the athlete profiles, the films for running brands, climbing brands, ski companies - those aren’t built on efficiency. They’re built on trust. They’re a little hard to make than traditional commercials but they always have been. Showing up in person, listening to where the story might lead, feeling the wind chill on a high alpine ridgeline and capturing the part of the human story that no machine will ever fully understand is what brands hire me for..

That’s why I’m optimistic. AI isn’t pushing me out of this work. If anything, it’s pushing me to sharpen my focus. To lean harder into what makes my films mine.

In fact, over the past year, I’ve been use AI all the time as a tool, not a substitute. And that’s where things get exciting…

The Tools Are Changing. The Job Is Not.

Out in the field, AI already helps me make better films. Not by replacing what I do, but by making certain parts of it a little easier, a little smoother.

AI for Pre-Production

All the audio in this documentary was treated with AI since filming in a windy jungle made things a bit challenging as a one-person team.

For years, I avoided storyboarding. Partly because I’m terrible at drawing. Partly because on small productions, there was never the time or budget to hire an illustrator. I’d walk into meetings with clients and have to say things like, “Just trust me. This is going to work.” And usually, they did. But it’s not the most comforting pitch.

Now, I can pull up a basic AI image generator, type in a few descriptions of the scene I want to shoot, and in seconds I’ve got a visual starting point. I can show a brand what a sunrise running scene might look like, or how a gimbal shot might track alongside a mountain biker. The images aren’t perfect but don’t need to be. They give clients something to react to, to point at, to help us align creatively before we ever press record. It saves time. It makes the process smoother. And most importantly, it helps me tell better stories.

AI for Post-Production

I also lean on AI tools quite a bit during post-production. When I’m back from a shoot, sorting through hours of footage, there are moments where AI steps in like an extra set of hands. AI automatically transcripts my footage so I don’t have to listen to each interview a dozen times to find the right lines, I can read them and put them right into the timeline.

I produced, directed, shot and edited this Emmy-nominated film in 8 days - in large part because of the AI powered transcript tool in Adobe Premiere Pro

Also, I’m often working as a one man team that’s producing, directing, filming and editing all of my award-winning documentaries and it’s a lot of pressure on not messing up any stage of the process. For sound recording, even the best lavalier microphone can’t fully battle gusty alpine air. AI-powered audio tools in my editing software now help me clean up that sound without sacrificing the emotion in someone’s voice. So, instead of scrapping a beautiful moment because of bad conditions, I can save it. That’s the kind of progress that feels worth celebrating.

There are many more AI tools that help me during the filmmaking process to get me from having a film concept to screening it at a festival but here’s the key difference: I’m still the one deciding what stays and what goes. I’m still the one choosing the pacing, the music, the interview clips that carry emotional weight. AI may assist, but it doesn’t feel and good filmmaking lives in the feeling.

AI’s role in production

When people talk about AI replacing filmmakers, I think they underestimate just how much of this job has nothing to do with pixels or gear. Sure, the technical part matters. But the real work happens long before you hit record.

The real work is gaining trust. Sitting with an athlete who’s never told anyone that they’re worried about how their bodies going to hold up at the end of the season. Listening to an adaptive climber share their stories about feeling alienated in the community because of their disability. Talking through emotions with a skier who’s describing the injury that nearly ended their career. These aren’t moments you script. They unfold because you’re present. Because you’ve built a relationship. Because the camera disappears, and what’s left is two people talking.

AI can generate synthetic versions of that. But it can’t earn trust. It can’t sit in a rental car for six hours driving across Wyoming, talking about life. It can’t be there at 4 a.m. brewing bad gas station coffee while the athlete ties their shoes in the dark. Those small, human rituals - the ones that seem insignificant (and sometimes pretty inconvenient) at the time - often become the heart of the film.

Where AI Actually Gets Risky

The risk with AI isn’t that it will eliminate all filmmaking jobs tomorrow. The risk is more nuanced. The risk is that brands, in pursuit of faster, cheaper content, will start relying on AI for work that actually demands a human touch.

Davide giardini running down a mountain in Colorado — This photo is real. We ran up to South Arapahoe Peak near Boulder, Colorado to 13,406ft then ran down. This is La Sportiva mountain athlete Davide Giardini training for his ski touring season in which he went on to win a bunch of races and ski 200+ days over the course of 7 months.

We’re already seeing this in certain industries. AI can churn out an endless stream of generic assets from stock photography, product mockups, and even some social media content. In the product world, maybe that’s good enough sometimes. But in the outdoor space, where most of my work lives, that shortcut starts to break down pretty fast.

People don’t fall in love with running shoes because of perfectly lit renders on a white background. They fall in love when they see someone like them lacing up in the cold, breathing heavy on a foggy trail, and listening to the story of them gritting through mile 18 of a marathon. They connect to stories that feel like lived experience. Real bodies. Real dirt. Real breath.

I think brands that lean too hard on AI-generated visuals will eventually feel that loss of connection. Consumers aren’t stupid. They can feel when something is synthetic. And in an industry built on authenticity - whether that’s trail running, skiing, climbing, surfing, or any outdoor pursuit - authenticity is currency.

There’s also an element of backlash to consider. If a running brand posts an AI-generated commercial featuring non-existent runners on non-existent trails wearing non-existent shoes, that might save some money. But, in that, they will likely lost the trust from their most loyal customers. In some ways, the outdoor community is more protective of authenticity than most. The brands that last are the ones that feel like they belong out there too.

The Work That Still Needs To Be Done

That’s why I believe there will always be space for people like me - for filmmakers who are willing to show up, stand in the rain, carry too much gear up too steep of a hill, and sit with real people to hear real stories.

AI may change what parts of that process are automated, but it won’t replace the human impulse that drives us to make these films in the first place. The impulse to explore. To listen. To document.

We don’t stop running because walking is easier. We run because it makes us feel alive.

Why We Should Work Together…

When I’m not writing articles like this, I’m out making the kind of films brands need most right now: real ones. The kind built on trust, honest storytelling, and actual human connection - not generated visuals or synthetic campaigns.

If you’re looking for someone who can carry a camera up the side of a mountain, sit quietly through vulnerable interviews, and shape it all into a story that moves people and moves your bottom line, that’s where I come in.

Here’s why it works:

I believe in stories that stick with you - like campfire smoke on your clothes. The kind that makes you laugh, cry, or immediately want to call your mom.
I can work wherever the story happens: in the snow, in the ocean, in the middle of nowhere - and then turn that raw footage into a polished story that resonates.
I’ve worked with global brands in wild places, but the real skill is helping audiences feel something real and when they feel something, they act.

If you want to make films that feel honest, build trust with your audience, and still deliver results for your brand — let’s talk.

How AI Is Changing Outdoor Video Production