Billy Joel doc using AI set to premiere amid controversy

It looks like Billy Joel, with a bushy mustache and shaggy hair. It sounds like Billy Joel, too, with a distinctly Long Island accent. It even moves a bit like Billy Joel, smiling slightly, nodding his head and blinking.

But is it Billy Joel?

The answer is complicated, at least in relation to a new AI-enhanced documentary, "1971: Billy Joel’s Lost Interview." Its director, Adam Ripp, obtained a long-lost radio interview with Joel, edited it down, then put the words into the mouth of a lifelike Joel generated with artificial intelligence. The result might be called part fact and part fiction, or perhaps science-fiction. Audiences will be able to judge for themselves when the film holds its world premiere on Sept. 25 at the Long Island Music and Entertainment Hall of Fame in Stony Brook, as part of the hall’s second annual LIMEHOF Music Documentary Film Festival.

Ripp’s film, which is not authorized by Joel, has been raising eyebrows ever since he announced it publicly several weeks ago. The "Today" show crew razzed it heartily, with Al Roker mocking Joel’s avatar as "like a bad ‘Weird Al' Yankovic." Commenters on the segment also piled on: "Hope Billy sends some legal action against using his likeness using artificial intelligence without permission!" one wrote, while another sniffed, "Phony baloney. This is how creeps try to pass off artificial intelligence as the real thing."

What’s more, Ripp, 58, is closely connected to people Joel left behind long ago. Ripp is the son of record producer Artie Ripp, who signed Joel to a contract that the singer spent years trying to break free of. (Artie Ripp is one reason Joel performed in Los Angeles under the fake name Bill Martin — an experience that inspired the song "Piano Man.") Adam Ripp also recently rankled Joel by announcing his development of a biopic titled "Billy & Me" that would tell the singer’s early life story through the eyes of his manager Irwin Mazur, with whom Joel also later split. Joel has blasted the biopic as "not authorized" and "legally and professionally misguided."

Regarding Ripp’s short documentary, Joel has offered no comment. His spokesperson did not respond to a request for comment on this story. Even the Hall of Fame no longer wants to discuss the film, which will screen during the festival’s opening night: "We cannot comment," the hall’s board said in an emailed statement.

The legal issues

Ripp’s film may be walking into some uncertain legal territory, according to Susan Drucker, a journalism professor at Hofstra University. Court cases about what material can and cannot be used to "train" AI have focused on different issues.  (AI requires input, such as photos, audio or text, to produce its outputs.) One court decided that "transformative use" of training material is allowed, she explained, but some decisions have focused on how the training material was obtained.

"From the image perspective on copyright," Drucker said, "I think that’s fairly unsettled."

Separately, she added, the film raises questions about ethics in documentary filmmaking and, perhaps, in the media overall. "With a documentary, audiences expect authenticity and reality," Drucker said. "Ultimately, I see this as not only a legal and ethical issue but also raising an issue about what media technology is doing to our values."

As for Ripp: "It’s kind of funny, the way people are kind of coming at it," he said. His argument: If he had painted a portrait of Billy Joel, nobody would raise a fuss. "Now, what's the difference," Ripp asked, "between a single painting or 24 to 30 paintings per second?"

Ripp’s movie traces its origins back to the Brookville campus of Long Island University, then known as C.W. Post, where in 1971 sophomore Ed Mann had a show on the college’s radio station, WCWP. Mann aspired to book musical guests on his show and happened to be cousins with Mazur, who was then managing a keyboard player named Billy Joel, formerly of the local band The Hassles. Joel had just released his debut solo album, "Cold Spring Harbor" (produced by Artie Ripp), to virtually no acclaim or sales, but Mazur remained a true believer in his artist.

"He would never stop talking about Billy Joel," Mann recalled. "I mean, ad nauseam."

Mann and Mazur spoke and set a date to interview Joel: Dec. 14, 1971. It was Mann’s first-ever on-air interview, and he came slightly underprepared; he can’t recall if he’d listened to the album. Nevertheless, he and Joel managed to fill roughly an hour with conversation about Joel’s budding career, his plans for the future and — ironically — his disdain for Madison Square Garden, which he called a "rip-off." When it was over, Mann took home a copy of the tape.

"I didn’t make a big deal of it," Mann said. "Who the hell knew who he was?"

Fast-forward five decades: Following his career-launching song "Piano Man," Joel built himself into a global superstar with three No. 1 singles, millions of albums sold and a record-breaking 150 lifetime shows at the aforementioned Madison Square Garden. Mazur, 84, stayed in Los Angeles, and eventually left music to become a financial adviser. Mann, 75, is a financial consultant living in San Francisco.

One day, about two years ago, Mann and Mazur spoke on the phone about Ripp’s biopic. Mazur was doing research and wanted to know: Did Mann still have that old interview? Mann went digging through some old memorabilia and found — nestled among his Little League coaching trophies, a yearbook, several Mets souvenirs and a handful of "Impeach Nixon" bumper stickers — a dinged-up cardboard box containing a reel of quarter-inch tape of his interview with Joel.

Mazur put Mann in touch with Ripp, who purchased the rights to Mann’s tape for an undisclosed sum and set about figuring how to turn an audio-only tape into a movie with visuals. Eventually Ripp hit on the idea of using artificial intelligence, with its ever-improving ability to create convincingly lifelike avatars. Being careful to train the models only on photos of Joel that he owned, Ripp said, he directed the artificial intelligence to create a realistic reproduction of the young singer. If the results aren't flawless, Ripp said, it’s because artificial intelligence is still difficult to wrangle: It had a tendency to change shirt colors, make background details vanish or distort faces.

"I know it's a cliche," Ripp said, "but it's like the thing has a mind of its own."

Legally blind, but with a vision

One detail not widely reported: Ripp says he is legally blind. During COVID, Ripp said, his glaucoma worsened to the point that he now has no vision in his left eye and very little in his right. He can’t drive and requires assistance to get around, he said. To make his short documentary, he depended on colleagues to translate his verbal descriptions — of the characters, the radio station, the camera shots — into visuals on the screen.

"My command of cinema history and referencing films is really deep, so I’m able to communicate to my people exactly what I’m looking for," Ripp said. His new catchphrase: "I may have lost my eyesight, but I haven't lost my vision as a filmmaker."

Ripp, Mazur and Mann will all take part in a Q&A following the first-ever public screening of "1971: Billy Joel’s Lost Interview" at the Hall of Fame. Ripp said he hopes audiences — including any disapproving, die-hard Joel fans — will turn out for the event.

"I hope they'll give the film a shot and check it out," Ripp said. "If half the people love the film and half the people hate it, I'll be very happy. I'm not here to please everybody, you know."