Chum

"They Didn’t Want Me, They Wanted My Power": The Frustrating Journey of Hollywood’s First Metahuman Star

By Jonathan Medina, April 2013, Vanity Round

In 2003, the world was just beginning to understand what it meant to live among metahumans. For most people, this new reality meant seeing superhuman feats on the evening news or hearing about the first “meta-athletes” breaking records that seemed insurmountable just a few years earlier. But for Lana "Facsimile" Morales, a 19-year-old shapeshifter with a talent that should have made her Hollywood’s hottest commodity, it meant something very different: a gauntlet of exploitative contracts, broken promises, and a film industry still too rigid to understand what to do with her.

Today, at 29, Lana sits across from me in a café just a few blocks from her home in Los Feliz. She’s noticeably tired, her curly black hair pulled into a loose bun, wearing jeans and a hoodie. Ten years ago, she was considered groundbreaking—a metahuman starlet poised to revolutionize the way movies were made. But the bitterness in her voice suggests the road from industry pioneer to where she is now has been far from smooth.

"They didn’t want me. Not really," Lana says, sipping her iced coffee. "They wanted the idea of me."

Breaking In: A Dream Deferred

When Lana first arrived in Los Angeles in 2003, her ability to alter her appearance at will seemed like a filmmaker’s dream. A young actress with the power to change her face, body, and even her voice—instantaneously and convincingly. She could play any role. Hollywood could save millions on prosthetics, makeup, and CGI by hiring her for monster roles or transformations that would have taken hours in post-production. But her journey into the industry wasn’t quite what she had envisioned.

"I remember going to my first casting call," Lana recounts, a mix of nostalgia and frustration in her tone. "It was for The Raven’s Curse, this low-budget horror film. I figured, okay, they’re probably going to want me to play some demon or ghost or whatever. But the director, Richie Bael, he takes one look at me and says, ‘You can be anyone? Can you be Demi Moore?’"

She laughs, but it’s a cold laugh. "They didn’t want Lana Morales, the actress. They wanted me to shapeshift into people who were already famous."

At the time, the film industry had yet to reckon with the legal implications of metahumans like Lana. Impersonation laws had been designed to protect the likenesses of actors and public figures from being misused—by traditional impersonation. But in 2003, the industry wasn’t prepared for someone like Lana, who could perfectly replicate an A-list celebrity without the need for trickery.

"I was just 19, and these guys were pressuring me to do things I wasn’t comfortable with," Lana recalls. "They wanted me to transform into Julia Roberts for a hundredth of the price. When I said no, they looked at me like I was some kind of inconvenience."

The Impersonation Fight: New Laws, New Problems

In response to actors like Lana, new legal precedents were quickly established. Impersonation clauses began appearing in actors' contracts, and the Morales Act—named after Lana herself—was passed in 2005. This law prevented metahumans from using their powers to replicate or impersonate living actors without explicit permission. It was a landmark moment for both the industry and the country’s evolving legal landscape around metahumans. But while it was a victory for Lana in theory, it had a more insidious effect on her career.

"I thought the Morales Act would protect me," she says, her eyes distant. "But all it did was pigeonhole me. It’s like, instead of thinking about what I could bring to a role as an actor, they only ever wanted to talk about how my powers could be legally used. It wasn’t about my talent anymore—it was all contracts and loopholes."

A Decade of Struggle: Facing the Industry’s Worst Instincts

In 2007, Lana landed her first major role in the dystopian sci-fi thriller Iron Skies, directed by Logan Crayton. She played a genetically altered rebel leader who could shift her form to outsmart government enforcers. The film was a modest success, but the buzz around Lana’s performance was deafening. Everyone wanted to see what she would do next—everyone except, it seemed, Hollywood itself.

"People loved Iron Skies," Lana admits, shrugging. "But the industry? They didn’t see me as a breakout star. They saw me as a special effect. Every director I talked to after that only wanted me for the same thing: ‘We need you to be this monster.’ Or, ‘Can you shapeshift into something really grotesque?’"

While Doug Jones was carving out a celebrated career embodying monsters and creatures, Lana’s shapeshifting ability ironically worked against her. Directors like Stephen Reilly (The Nightmare Underneath) and Rachel Lynes (Body of Glass) wanted her to contort into new, inhuman forms, but rarely offered her roles where she could simply act as herself.

"I admire Doug Jones so much," Lana says with a wistful smile. "He’s such a phenomenal performer, and he worked his ass off to show that he’s more than just a guy in makeup. But me? I could be the makeup, and that’s all they wanted from me."

Her frustrations came to a head in 2009, during the production of the critically panned Body Harvest. The film, directed by Vincent Vehlan, was a notorious flop that featured Lana as a shapeshifting alien antagonist. Vehlan pushed her to the limits, demanding she take on increasingly grotesque, painful transformations—something that was taxing even for someone with her powers.

"It was hell," Lana says bluntly. "They wanted these disgusting shapes, and I was constantly stretching and contorting. At one point, I thought I was going to tear my muscles apart. And for what? Some straight-to-video garbage no one even remembers."

The Shifting Industry: New Meta-Talent, New Resentments

By 2013, meta-talent was no longer a novelty in Hollywood. Performers like Lyle McCullen, with his grotesque body-modifying abilities, and Selena Gervais, who could regenerate on demand, were the new darlings of the horror and VFX scenes. The industry was full of meta-humans, and with them came new opportunities and new frustrations.

"I see these kids coming in now, and they’re treated like gods," Lana says, shaking her head. "Lyle’s great, don’t get me wrong. But he didn’t have to fight the way I did. The directors know what to do with them now—they have union protections, specialized agents, even schools to help them hone their powers for the camera. When I started? I was just a freak to them."

While Lana speaks with admiration about some of the newcomers—particularly Gervais, whom she praises as a "born performer"—there’s a clear undercurrent of resentment when it comes to the current state of the industry.

"It’s not about talent anymore. It’s about what you can do physically," she says. "No one wants to see me act. They just want me to shift into some horror show. The industry didn’t change for the better, it just found new ways to exploit people like me."

What Comes Next for Lana Morales?

As the interview winds down, I ask Lana what her plans are for the future. Does she still want to work in Hollywood, or has the industry’s treatment of her soured that dream for good?

"I’m not done," she says, after a long pause. "I’ve been doing some indie stuff. Roles where I get to be me, not some nightmare monster. There’s a small studio I’ve been working with, Phoenix Pictures, and they’ve actually been writing roles for me—human roles. It feels good. But I’m never going back to the big studios."

She leans back in her chair and sighs. "I guess, after everything, I just want people to see me as more than my power. I want to be seen as an actor."

As I thank Lana for her time and prepare to leave, I can't help but wonder what Hollywood lost by focusing on what Lana could transform into rather than who she already was. For the industry, she was an asset, a way to push boundaries and save money. But for Lana, the cost has always been personal. In a world that was changing faster than she could shift, Lana Morales was fighting to remain herself.

The Morales Act of 2005

Section 1: Short Title

This Act may be cited as the "Morales Act of 2005."

Section 2: Definitions

(a) Shapeshifting: Defined as a superhuman ability to alter one’s physical form, including but not limited to changes in facial structure, body type, vocal patterns, and other biometric characteristics, in such a way that the subject can resemble any other individual or organism, real or fictional.

(b) Impersonation: The act of adopting the physical appearance, mannerisms, or voice of another individual through shapeshifting, including the replication of specific, identifiable characteristics such as facial features, gait, or vocal tone, without express authorization.

(c) Public Figure: Any individual who has acquired prominence in public life, such as actors, politicians, athletes, or other individuals widely recognized by the public.

(d) Private Individual: Any individual who does not meet the criteria of a public figure and whose identity is generally not of public interest.

Section 3: Prohibition of Unauthorized Impersonation

(a) Unauthorized Impersonation of a Public Figure:

It is unlawful for any individual to use shapeshifting abilities to impersonate a public figure without express written consent from the individual or their legal representative. This includes appearances in films, television, commercials, public events, or any other form of media or public display.

(b) Unauthorized Impersonation of a Private Individual:

It is unlawful for any individual to use shapeshifting abilities to impersonate a private individual for any commercial, personal, or entertainment purposes without their explicit consent. This prohibition extends to but is not limited to interactions in public or private spaces where the impersonated individual would have a reasonable expectation of privacy.

Section 4: Consent and Exceptions

(a) Consent for Public Figures:

For any instance in which a shapeshifter seeks to use the likeness of a public figure, a consent form must be signed by the public figure or their designated legal representative. This document must explicitly authorize the intended use, including the context and duration of the impersonation.

(b) Exceptions:

Law Enforcement: Shapeshifting for impersonation may be allowed as part of authorized law enforcement activity, provided there is a valid warrant or legal authorization in cases of criminal investigations.

Parody or Satire: Shapeshifting into the likeness of a public figure for the purposes of parody or satire may be permissible under protections provided by existing free speech and artistic expression laws, provided that the portrayal is clearly identifiable as a non-serious interpretation and does not involve commercial gain without consent.

Section 5: Penalties and Enforcement

(a) First Violation:

Any individual found guilty of unauthorized impersonation, whether of a public figure or private individual, shall be subject to a fine ranging from $5,000 to $50,000, depending on the severity of the offense and the financial damage incurred by the victim.

(b) Repeated Violations:

Subsequent offenses of unauthorized impersonation will result in fines up to $100,000 per instance and may escalate to criminal charges with imprisonment of up to three years, particularly in cases where malicious intent or significant harm was caused.

(c) Civil Damages:

In cases where impersonation leads to financial, reputational, or emotional harm, the affected individual may seek civil damages, including compensatory payments for lost wages, emotional distress, and any other demonstrable damages resulting from the impersonation.

Section 6: Impersonation in Media

(a) Media Representation of Public Figures via Shapeshifting:

The use of shapeshifters to impersonate public figures in any media format, including but not limited to film, television, advertisements, or stage performances, must comply with the Morales Act. Failure to do so will subject production companies, directors, and the shapeshifter in question to the penalties outlined in Section 5.

(b) Documented Proof of Consent:

Any media entity utilizing shapeshifters to replicate the likeness of a public figure must retain signed consent forms for a period of five years following the conclusion of the project. These records must be produced upon request by any regulatory or legal body.

Section 7: Commercial Use of Shapeshifting

(a) Prohibition on Commercial Likeness Exploitation:

No individual or entity may commercially benefit from a shapeshifter's ability to impersonate another individual without the written consent of the individual being impersonated, whether the subject is alive or deceased.

(b) Posthumous Impersonation:

The likeness of deceased individuals may only be replicated by shapeshifters with the express consent of the individual’s legal estate. This includes film roles, advertisements, and any public use where the individual’s image is employed for commercial gain.

Section 8: Implementation

(a) Effective Date:

This Act shall come into effect 120 days after its enactment.

(b) Regulatory Body:

The National Superhuman Response Agency (NSRA) is tasked with overseeing the enforcement of the Morales Act, including issuing fines, monitoring compliance in the media industry, and maintaining a database of registered consent agreements.