Make an AI short film from the argument your clients already have

An AI short film is a story told with pictures, and often voices, that image and video models make in place of a camera and actors. For a practice of one, the useful kind is the micro-drama: a one-minute animated film with two or three characters, one argument, one turn and one payoff, where your work is the turn ^[1].

Yours is about a moment your clients live through before they hire you. The seller with three offers on the kitchen table. The founder whose offsite plan was dead by Monday. The freelancer who signed a contract nobody read. Post one a month with the same cast and it becomes a series on your own account, and the rest of the month's posts answer the questions each episode raises.

The whole method fits in six steps, and each one has its own section below:

1. Find the conversation: the line a client hears from a partner, a boss or themselves right before they hire you ^[1].
2. Cast three people, the hero, the doubter and the turn, and make one reference sheet for each ^[1].
3. Write the script in six beats, every line under 10 words and no more than 150 words in all ^[1].
4. Make it in clips of 4 to 10 seconds with a reference-to-video model, and check each clip before you make the next ^[1].
5. Join the clips with hard cuts, cut to black, and post it with a dramatization line and the platform's AI label ^[1].
6. A few days later, answer the question it raised in a talking-head video of your own ^[1].

Independent filmmakers have taken the form much further. Henry Daubrez made Electric Pink with Imagen 3 for the images and Veo 2 for the animation ^[2]. Tarek Alward made Mike. El. Jack. Seon. in 48 hours for Runway's Gen:48 challenge ^[2], and Pierre Zandrowicz used Veo 3 and Gemini 2.5 Pro for The Space Between Us ^[2]. Watch one before you write your first episode, for the pace and the framing.

Those are films made for their own sake. Yours has a narrower job: make a future client feel their problem and see your work change it, in about a minute ^[1]. If you want a festival film, this method is too small for it. If you want a post your clients recognise themselves in, it's the right size.

Here's one episode for one trade, from the premise to the posted clip. The example is a property agent; in another trade, swap the moment and keep the steps. Each step has its own section on this page.

ACCUSATION
DEV (tapping three printed offers): Just take the highest one. Done.
MAYA: What if it falls through?

STRUGGLE
(Midnight. Maya alone at the kitchen table with cold tea.)
(Her daydream: packed boxes, a phone lighting up. Screen: "Loan declined.")
MAYA (quietly): Then we're back at the start.

TURN
(Morning. You, the agent, slide one page across the table.)
YOU: Same three offers. Read past the price.
(Close on the page: three columns, three coloured ticks, no readable words.)

CLOSE
MAYA: The second one. Their loan's approved.
DEV (a long pause): Fine. The second one.

PAYOFF
(Moving day. Dev hands the keys over and turns to Maya.)
DEV: Okay. Price wasn't everything.

LOOP
(Dev on the phone to his brother, packing tape in hand.)
DEV: Highest offer? No. Get the page first.
(Cut to black.)

Caption: Before It Sells, episode 2. A dramatization made with AI.

Once the cast exists, that's your month. Pick one moment and write one script. Check a handful of clips one at a time, label the film and add two follow-up posts. The sections below set it up in the same order.

Each trade has a moment its clients keep living through, and that moment is your series. Find your row and use it for the first episode.

Two rules hold for every row. The film is a dramatization, so the people are invented and the caption says so ^[1]. And legal, health and financial work often has its own advertising rules, so check yours before episode one ^[1].

If every moment on your row is too private to put on screen, because clients come to you in a crisis, don't force a series. Make one film about the moment before they call, or skip the format and answer the question on camera yourself. The section on when a drama is the wrong format covers the cases.

Your story already happened. It's the argument a client had right before they hired you, or right before they didn't ^[1]. Ask for a list:

I'm a [what you do] and my clients are [who]. List 10 conversations my clients have before they hire me: who they argue with (a partner, a boss, a client, themselves), what the other person says, and what finally changes their mind. Use the words people actually say. Rank them by how often they happen.

Pick the one where your offer is clearly the turn. That's your first episode ^[1]. Your own notes beat the model here, because a line a client repeated on a discovery call is worth more than anything it invents.

The best lines are already in your week: the objection on Tuesday's discovery call, the message that starts "my partner thinks", the email that says "we'll sort it ourselves". Keep a note on your phone and add each one the day you hear it.

Any row can be your first film: the doubter says the line in the opening beat, and your work turns up as the turn.

If the list only gives you lines nobody says out loud, such as "I'm worried about the cost", it isn't a conversation yet. Ask who your client would say it to, and what that person says back.

A one-minute micro-drama runs in six beats ^[1]:

Nobody pitches the offer. It shows up as the reason the ending changed ^[1].

If your story needs more than six beats, it's two episodes. Cut it at the turn and let the second one open where the first one stopped.

Each extra character costs clips and money, and makes the faces harder to keep consistent. Three covers almost any story ^[1]:

1. The hero: your client, mid-problem. Tired, stuck, about to give up ^[1].
2. The doubter: the person who says out loud what the client fears, such as a partner, a boss or a parent ^[1].
3. The turn: the person or moment that brings the change, such as a client, a friend or a call ^[1].

Describe each one like a casting note: age, hair, one outfit that never changes, the face they make most. Build a reference sheet for each one too. The front, the side and a few expressions are enough, and you reuse the sheet in every clip ^[1]. The consistent AI character guide covers how.

In a practice of one, the turn is often you. You can be in your own film as an animated version made from your own portrait, if that's your choice ^[1]. Give yourself one line at most, and let the thing you hand over change the ending: the one-page plan, the check-in text, the first meeting. If a cartoon of your face feels wrong for your trade, stay out of it and let the page or the call be the turn.

Keep the cast for the whole series. New faces every month mean new reference sheets every month, and returning viewers lose the people they came back for.

Paste this in once you've picked the conversation and the cast ^[1]:

Write a 60-second micro-drama script for [your business]. Cast: [hero], [doubter], [turn]. The conversation: [from the list]. Structure: the doubter's accusation in the first line; the hero's struggle; the turn, where [your offer] changes things; a short close; the doubter proved wrong; a last line that loops back to the start. Every line under 10 words, written to be spoken. No more than 150 words in total. No results, numbers or claims I can't prove.

Read it out loud before you make anything, and cut any line that feels long when you say it ^[1]. The script length calculator tells you whether 150 words fits your minute ^[1].

If the script only makes sense with a narrator explaining it, the conflict isn't in the dialogue yet. Rewrite the first line until the doubter says it.

Here's a second episode, from a coach's series, with every clip written out.

ACCUSATION
THEO (eating cereal, pointing his spoon at new trainers): New trainers? You'll quit by Friday.
LENA: Thanks for the support, Theo.

STRUGGLE
(Dark bedroom. Rain on the window. Alarm reads 6:00. Lena switches it off.)
LENA (under the duvet): Maybe he's right.

TURN
(The phone on its stand lights up. Screen: "Ten minutes. Just walk.")
LENA (sitting up): Ten minutes. I can do ten minutes.
(Lena walking in the rain. Then jogging. Then running past the same lamp post on a bright morning.)

CLOSE
THEO (in the hallway): It's Friday.
LENA (lacing up): I know.

PAYOFF
(Theo watches the front door close. A long beat. He smiles.)
THEO: Okay. I was wrong about you.

LOOP
(Saturday, 6:00. Theo in the bedroom doorway, in his own trainers.)
THEO: Can I come?
(Cut to black.)

Caption: A dramatization made with AI. Start with ten minutes: link in bio.

That script stays well under the 150-word cap, and every line is short enough to say in one breath ^[1]. Nobody sells the morning text. It's simply the thing that gets Lena out of bed.

Clip 1 (6s). Kitchen, morning. Theo [ref sheet] at the table points his spoon at new running shoes by the door. Theo says once, then silent: "New trainers? You'll quit by Friday." Exactly two people in the shot: Theo and Lena [ref sheet]. No one else appears.
Clip 2 (4s). Same kitchen, close on Lena, half a smile. Lena says once, then silent: "Thanks for the support, Theo."
Clip 3 (8s). Dark bedroom, rain on the window. A phone on a stand by the bed shows 6:00. Lena reaches out with one hand and switches the alarm off, exactly two hands, then pulls the duvet up. Lena says once, then silent: "Maybe he's right." One person in the shot.
Clip 4 (6s). Same bedroom. The phone on its stand lights up. Lena sits up. Lena says once, then silent: "Ten minutes. I can do ten minutes."
Clip 5 (10s). Lena walking in light rain, then jogging, then running past a lamp post on a bright morning. No dialogue. One person in the shot.
Clip 6 (6s). Hallway. Theo leans on the door frame: "It's Friday." Lena laces her shoes: "I know." Each line said once. Exactly two people.
Clip 7 (8s). Theo alone at the window, watching the front door close. A long pause, then he smiles. Theo says once, then silent: "Okay. I was wrong about you."
Clip 8 (5s). Saturday morning, bedroom doorway. Theo in running shoes. Theo says once, then silent: "Can I come?" Exactly two people.

Seedance 2.0, used through Higgsfield, is one model that does the scene step ^[1]. At 4 to 10 seconds a clip, a one-minute film comes to somewhere between 6 and 15 clips ^[1].

In Higgsfield the scene step is three moves. Upload your reference sheets as image references, describe the scene and its sounds in plain words, then press Generate ^[7]. Seedance 2.0 takes text, image, audio and video as inputs and generates the audio and the video together ^[8], which is why the voices land on the mouths. It can make clips of up to 15 seconds ^[7], but keep each one to a single scene of 4 to 10 seconds ^[1]. Short clips are easier for AI to get right, because there's less room for mistakes to appear ^[9].

Start smaller than a minute. A 20 to 30 second scene with two characters makes a good first film, and you make the long version once that works ^[1].

You don't need to know animation. You need the script, three reference sheets and the patience to check each clip, and the video model does the animating, mouth movements included ^[1].

If a clip keeps failing after a few tries, change the scene, not the wording. Put the phone on a stand or move the third person out of shot. Or cut the line and let a look carry it.

The Postmosis video editor captions your video in one of 6 styles and exports 9:16, 4:5, 1:1 and 16:9 in one run. See the video editor

AI video still makes mistakes ^[1]. Each common one has a fix you can write into the next prompt:

Fix one clip at a time, since redoing one is cheap and redoing ten adds up fast ^[1].

Your episode is a made-up story with AI faces and AI voices, so say both things: that it's a dramatization, and that it's AI ^[1]. Each platform asks for the AI part in its own way.

• Instagram and Facebook: label it. Meta requires a label on photorealistic video or realistic-sounding audio made with AI ^[10][11]. Its own examples put an audio file of two people talking on the label side, and a cartoon-style landscape video on the other ^[10]. A cartoon film with realistic AI voices sits between the two. Label it. When you create the Reel, tap the toggle next to Add AI label ^[10].
• YouTube: you must disclose AI content that seems realistic, though non-realistic content made with AI is exempt ^[12]. One example that does need it: making it look as if someone gave advice they never gave ^[12]. So no real colleagues or clients in an episode, ever. In YouTube Studio, open Attributes and select Yes under AI use ^[12]. That alone won't limit who sees the video ^[12].
• TikTok: label AI content with realistic-looking scenes or people. Skip it and TikTok may remove, restrict or label the video itself ^[13].
• LinkedIn: say so when you relied heavily on AI and the post doesn't make it obvious ^[14]. Your dramatization line covers it.

If you appear in your own film, label it even where the rules wouldn't ask you to. A client can't tell which of the lines you really said.

Put the same lines in every caption, so your clients learn them once. Three to copy:

[Series name], episode [number]. A dramatization made with AI: the people are invented, the situation is one I see all the time.

A dramatization made with AI. Nobody in it is a real client.

Made with AI from a script I wrote. The step in it is real, so ask me about yours.

A label says how the film was made. It doesn't make a misleading story fine. If a client could mistake an episode for a real case, or for a promise of what you'll get them, rewrite the episode, because no caption line fixes that ^[1].

A single film is a one-off post. A series gives your clients a reason to come back, and gives you a slot to fill each month in place of a blank page. Duanju are series of 1-2 minute episodes ^[15], and the AI story accounts that keep their viewers work the same way: a recurring format, so viewers know what they'll get before they press play ^[16].

Keep four things the same in every episode:

• The cast: the same hero and doubter, from the same reference sheets, so returning viewers know them from the first frame ^[1].
• The shape: the six beats, under 75 seconds, cut to black ^[1].
• The name: the series name and the episode number at the top of the caption, and the label line at the bottom.
• The slot: the same day each month, with the follow-up posts on the same days after it.

Change one thing: the moment. Each episode is a new situation your clients face, and each one shows one real thing about how your work goes. Saveo House runs a daily AI story series in which each part teaches one real rule about how cash gets tracked, which ties the story back to what it sells ^[16]. For you that's one real step per episode: the offer sheet, the check-in text, the clause to read before signing.

Bailey & the Bean, an AI story account about a dog and a toddler, organises its episodes into seasons and never talks about itself. The stories earn the follow, and one link in bio does the selling ^[16]. A season of six episodes is a good size for a first run: half a year of monthly films from one list of moments.

I'm a [what you do] and my clients are [who they are]. I'm making a monthly AI micro-drama series for my own account, called [series name].

The cast is the same in every episode:
- The hero: [my client, mid-problem, in one line]
- The doubter: [the person who says out loud what they fear]
- The turn: [me (drawn from my own portrait) or the thing I hand over]

List six episodes. For each one give me:
1. The moment my clients live through, in one line
2. The doubter's first line, in the words people really say
3. The one real step from my work that changes the ending
4. The question the episode leaves, for my follow-up video

Use situations, not real people. No results, numbers or client details. Flag any episode that touches a painful moment, such as a divorce, a death or a dismissal, so I can decide whether to make it.

A minute fits where you post. Instagram doesn't recommend Reels over 3 minutes to new audiences ^[17], and YouTube treats vertical videos up to three minutes as Shorts ^[18], so an episode under 75 seconds goes up as a Reel and a Short without a second edit ^[1].

If the planner can't find six moments you'd put your name to, the series is too narrow. Make one film and see what clients say about it. Keep the slot for talking-head answers until the next idea turns up.

A one-minute film is 6 to 15 clips, and you check each one before you make the next ^[1]. That makes it a monthly post. Plan the other posts in the month around it, so one story feeds several of them:

Give the film a fixed week, so the plan survives a busy month. At the end of the month, look at which posts brought comments and messages, and write the next episode from the questions people asked.

If a month runs out, skip the film, not the follow-up. The talking-head answer still goes out, and the episode moves to next month's slot.

• Call it a dramatization. Never present a scripted story as something that really happened ^[1].
• Say it's AI. TikTok requires a label on AI content showing realistic-looking scenes or people ^[13], and Meta requires its AI disclosure tool for photorealistic video made or altered digitally ^[11].
• Keep results out of it unless they're real. If a client really got one, use their real numbers with their permission, and remember the film shows a situation and proves nothing ^[1].
• Never let a character pose as a happy client. The FTC's rule covers testimonials by someone who doesn't exist, such as AI-generated fake reviews ^[3].
• Use a real person's likeness only with their consent. Invent your cast, or use someone who has agreed and approves every line ^[1].
• Health, legal and financial services often have their own advertising rules. Check before you post ^[1].

Two examples of those trade rules, from the US. The ABA's model rule says a lawyer shall not make a false or misleading communication about the lawyer or the lawyer's services ^[5], and its comment warns that even a truthful report of results for clients can mislead if it leads people to expect the same results for themselves ^[6]. The NAR Code of Ethics asks Realtors to present a true picture in their advertising and marketing ^[4]. Your own bar, board or professional body will have its version, so read it before episode one.

You can make one. The legal questions are about what goes in and who owns what comes out, and the first is simple: keep real people out unless they've agreed ^[1]. On ownership, in the US, AI-generated material inside a larger human-made work doesn't stop that work being copyrighted ^[19]. The AI parts themselves are protected only where a person determined enough of the expression, through creative arrangement or changes, and prompts alone don't count ^[19]. Your script and your edit are yours.

A micro-drama is the slowest post of your month. Plenty of client questions don't need one. Skip it, or save it for later, in these cases:

• Your clients hire you for discretion. A lawyer's or a consultant's clients trust you to keep their business private. A film about someone like them can feel like a breach, even with an invented cast. If a current client might ask "is that me?", don't make it.
• The answer fits in a sentence. "Do I need a will if I don't own a home?" needs a short talking-head answer. A drama earns attention and makes people feel the problem. It doesn't close the sale ^[1].
• Clients are stuck on a single doubt, and nobody argues about it. A brand mascot answers that faster ^[1].
• The ending would need a result. If the story only works with a won case, a sold price or a client's new salary, it needs a result you can't show. A made-up result has no place in it ^[1].
• The moment is painful. Think of a divorce, a bereavement, a dismissal or a debt. Show the script to two past clients first. If either of them winces, film a plain answer instead.
• The disclaimer would swamp the story. If your trade's rules put a long line of small print on screen, use a talking-head video. A film has to land its conflict in the first eight seconds.

The talking-head video guide, the AI character method and the AI avatar guide cover the other formats step by step.

When the plain version is the better post, Postmosis makes it without filming: your photo or an AI presenter speaking a 30-second script, or an explainer from AI pictures, 2 a day. See videos without filming

A micro-drama earns attention and makes people feel the problem. It doesn't close the sale ^[1]. Somewhere after the film a real person should answer the question the story raised, and in a practice of one that's you.

Post a short talking-head video after the film that answers it directly. If you can't film every week, an AI avatar can read the answer from a script you approve ^[1].

Put each episode and its follow-up posts on the Postmosis content calendar with a phone reminder, or schedule them and Postmosis posts them for you once your accounts are connected. See scheduling

• An AI character is one made-up person who lives your client's problem, with the same joke every video ^[1].
• A brand mascot is your brand as a hero who beats your clients' objections ^[1].
• AI UGC is a presenter showing what you sell, the way a creator would ^[20].
• A micro-drama is a small story with a cast. People talk to each other, someone doubts, someone is proved wrong, and viewers watch to see how it ends ^[1].

Pick the micro-drama when the thing stopping clients is a conversation they've already had, with a partner, a boss, a client or themselves ^[1]. You hear these second-hand all the time. "My husband thinks it's a waste of money." "My boss says we can do it in-house." "I keep telling myself I'll start in January."

A quick test from your own week of calls: if the same objection comes up again and again, start with a mascot. If clients say "that's exactly me" about a situation, start with a character. If they quote someone else, as in "my partner says", make a micro-drama ^[1].

Micro-dramas started in China as duanju, short web series with episodes of 1-2 minutes ^[15]. They're made for phones, often shot vertically ^[15], and run on fast plots and heightened melodrama, with revenge and romance among the usual themes ^[15]. The apps ReelShort and DramaBox took the format to the US in 2022 and 2023 ^[15].

Your version borrows the shape and drops the melodrama. Each episode is one moment your clients live through, with two or three characters, real dialogue, one argument, one turn and one payoff ^[1].

Take three things from duanju into your film: make it vertical for the phone, put the conflict in the first line, and keep the drama small enough that a client recognises their own kitchen table in it. And one more: duanju are series ^[15], so plan yours as a run of episodes with the same cast, not a one-off.