3 min readVAL KILMER WAS a part of some of the coolest movies you will ever see. Heat's fandom is somehow only growing after 30 years. Top Gun is so beloved it's become a shorthand. Doc Holliday in Tombstone is unbelievably badass. And I dare you to watch MacGruber without laughing hysterically at the villainous Dieter Von Cunth.
Kilmer was well known for his long career that started with comedic roles and became far more expansive in the decades that followed. He worked all the way up to his death in 2025, after a battle with throat cancer. He was 65 years old. Kilmer himself may be gone, but through his work in timeless projects—and everything they meant to us—the man lives on forever.
That is, until now. A new report in Variety says that Kilmer's real-life death might turn out to be short-lived—on the silver screen, at least. The article says that Kilmer will be fully revived via AI to star in a movie called As Deep as the Grave. In it, a figure with his likeness will play Father Fintan, a Catholic priest and Native American spiritualist. Kilmer was cast in the role five years ago, but never actually made it to set due to his ongoing health struggles. Now, with his daughter's blessing, Kilmer will supposedly have his role completed via this new technology.
The movie, previously titled Canyon of the Dead, has been in production for nearly six years; much of it was shot several years ago. The cast includes Abigail Breslin, Wes Studi, and Tom Felton. “His family kept saying how important they thought the movie was and that Val really wanted to be a part of this,” film director Coerte Voorhees says in the Variety story. “He really thought it was important story that he wanted his name on. It was that support that gave me the confidence to say, okay, let’s do this. Despite the fact some people might call it controversial, this is what Val wanted.”
Is it though? The idea that an uncanny technology, uneasy in likeness and concept, would bring a deceased actor's likeness “back” to perform in a movie where they never set foot on set is upsetting from any number of angles. Kilmer's family and estate are apparently on board in this case—but what happens when it’s more contentious?
Who’s ready to see Sean Connery digitally inserted into a low-budget gangster movie? Or Richard Pryor popped into a direct-to-streaming comedy? What about the John Wayne Western standoff with Kevin Costner? Or more importantly, who isn’t ready to see all of that?
Kilmer's death was incredibly tragic. He was an artist who meant so much to so many different communities. But it's because he meant so much that this unnatural resurrection would be such a wound. Life and death are what they are. That's what grieving—together, individually—is for. On top of being off-putting, it sets a precedent that flies in the face of the collective human experience.
When Stanley Kubrick died in 1999, he was famously at work on a long-gestating project called A.I. Artificial Intelligence. After his passing, his close friend Steven Spielberg picked the project up and finished it. People now consider it to be one of his finest films. David Lynch had several projects in the works when he died at the start of 2025, and his daughter, Jennifer Lynch, recently said that his unrealized scripts would be published publicly. When Heath Ledger died in 2008, he was in the midst of filming The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus. Jude Law, Johnny Depp, and Colin Farrell stepped in to play the character.
These are the ways that late, beloved artists have always lived on beyond their passing. Even as the world tempts us with more and more ways to honor or avoid their deaths, at the end of the day it’s the work—real, human performances—that made us fall in love, and that will always be there.
