Sundance, Branded Entertainment, and Finding Meaning Over Attention
Blue skies and glistening slopes, dotted with the swanky second homes you “what if” about while browsing Zillow — Park City, Utah may have had postcard scenery, but there was a liminal energy hanging over Main Street as we arrived. The bevy of brand activations were still under construction. The streets were not yet crowded with culture vultures. And not a single flustered assistant could be found hustling lunch orders uphill.
The Sundance Festival had not officially started.
The truth is we weren’t really there for Sundance, as you know it. I was in town with my partners Chris and Malcolm and some of our friends at the Human Rights Campaign for BrandStorytelling, a kind of festival-within-the-festival dedicated to branded entertainment. The short film we produced with HRC, Daniel Really Suits You, was an official selection.
We were here to slide our way into the intersection of brand and storytelling so we might find kindred spirits. (If only I knew how to ski.)
You see “branded entertainment” has often been at the core of what I preach at BRINK. We didn’t use that exact term in the past, but we’ve always reached for its governing idea: Don’t interrupt what people enjoy. Be what people enjoy.
Sitting in that space, surrounded by filmmakers, agency folks, and brand leaders, one question kept creeping into my head: How do we push this further?
If there’s one thing we should know by now, it’s that attention is cheap. Everyone’s fighting for it, and most of the time, it’s meaningless. The real fight—the fight brands should actually care about—is for meaning.
Because Meaningful Entertainment is Brand Building at its Best
Modern media is an all-you-can-eat buffet full of brain rot. More content is being uploaded this millisecond than anyone could possibly consume. Brands are fighting tooth and nail for attention—as if racking up views, clicks, and impressions means anything in a world where people doomscroll all day, right past your ad to watch a raccoon steal a pizza.
Again, attention is cheap.
Cheap because it can be bought (see: every pre-roll ad you’ve ever skipped).
Cheap because it can be gamed (see: every rage-bait headline that you react to without reading).
Cheap because it doesn’t require emotional investment.
I can give you my attention for 5, 50 or 500 seconds and still never think about you again. You know damn well that happens because you will see oh so much content today and yet remember very little of it. Hopefully these words make the cut.
Too many brands act like they’ve won the game just by getting views. The real metric they should be chasing is meaning. Are you making something that actually sticks? That people care about, talk about, remember. It might not show in your analytics dashboard, but that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.
These days a viral moment is often forgotten immediately. But something like a great film is remembered for years, sometimes for a lifetime.
This is why brand entertainment done right isn’t just about attention. It’s about trust. It’s about building affinity with an audience who won’t just tolerate you, but welcome you into the conversation.
The brands that get this are the ones funding media that people actually want to see, not just passively consume — such as movies and shows.
But Can Brands Actually Make Legit Entertainment?
They already do. The insanely memed Barbie movie was just nominated for an Oscar last year. Ancestory.com has TV shows all around the world including Finding Your Roots on PBS. Dramamine’s funny and quirky The Last Barf Bag joined us at both this festival and atop Vimeo’s Best Of Branded Content list for 2024.
None of this is new. Holiday mainstay A Charlie Brown Christmas was commissioned by Coca Cola in 1965 (though their “presented by” credit has dropped off over the decades). The Colgate Comedy Hour used to be the #1 show on television nearly 75 years ago.
Of course history is riddled with cringeworthy misfires too—films where the brand’s fingerprints practically leave smudges on the lens. Nobody wants to sit through a 29-minute commercial disguised as a heartfelt story about human perseverance, only to have it end with, "Because at Raytheon, we believe in you."
All films have an agenda. Studio films want to make money. Indie films want prestige, and to make money in a way that still feels cool. Most art is backed by someone with a checkbook and a vested interest. Propaganda vs. art is not a binary, it's a spectrum. We’ve just decided that some funding sources are noble and others not.
As the filmmaking landscape heavily changes, brands can fill a gap that traditional Hollywood no longer can. Studios are so risk-averse because their avenues for monetizing films have collapsed over the past few decades. Meanwhile, brands are burning hundreds of billions of dollars to get in front of audiences in far more disposable and forgettable ways.
Those are two dots worth connecting.
For brands’ sake. For artists’ sake. For the audience's sake.
So What Does Good Branded Entertainment Look Like?
It doesn’t just mean make a movie — it can literally be anything. But it does mean don’t think like an advertiser, think like a story producer. That includes:
- Funding great work without smothering it. If your logo has to be in every frame, if your product has to be an unblemished hero, if your legal team wants to scrub out anything that might alienate a potential customer—then congratulations, you’ve just made an ad. People don’t go out of their way to watch ads.
- Investing in original storytelling. The reason films like The Lego Movie and Barbie work isn’t just because they’re about recognizable brands—it’s because they’re actual movies. They’re fun, well-written, and full of ideas that go beyond product placement. So why is it that toy companies are some of the only ones culturally known and celebrated for taking this approach? Brands in every industry should be thinking bigger.
- Making things that can stand on their own. The best branded films, shows, and experiences should be worth engaging with, even if you don’t care about the brand. Patagonia’s documentaries work because they’re good documentaries.
- Playing the long game. The best entertainment brands—HBO, A24, even Apple in its current prestige TV era—built trust over time by consistently making things people cared about. Brands can do the same—but only if they stop chasing culture and start moving it.
I’m glad the BrandStorytelling conference exists and I appreciate that they recognized our short this year. I hope to go back.
Sundance has long been a temple for “real” filmmaking, for independent voices and risk-taking. Putting brand-funded films in the room sets the right tone for where things need to go, even if we are hovering on the periphery of actual Sundance. For now.
I did meet Robert Redford’s grandson though.