Once upon a time, film began in the theater. From marquee to end credits, the experience was confined to a single darkened room, where story and spectator met in silence. Lights down, trailers over, the studio logo flickering across the screen. In today’s media landscape, that moment can feel more like a midpoint than a beginning. Long before your ticket is scanned, you have likely already consumed hours of cast interviews, red carpet footage, behind-the-scenes clips and viral moments circulating on social media. The press tour is no longer just a marketing strategy; it is a performance in its own right. Increasingly, our impressions of a film, our expectations, attachments and even criticisms, are formed long before we ever step foot in the theater. What used to feel like anticipation now feels more like conditioning. We arrive not as blank slates, but as audiences already coached on how to watch.
Take Barbie, for example. Months before its official release, pink carpets stretched across global premieres as attendees embraced the Barbie aesthetic. Cast interviews flooded TikTok with conversations about feminism, identity and reinvention. Margot Robbie’s themed outfits were not just fashion statements. By recreating vintage Barbie doll looks, beautifully styled by Andrew Mukamal, she extended the world of Barbie beyond the screen and into everyday culture. By the time audiences arrived at the theater, they were not engaging with a standalone piece of art, but with a cultural event already underway. The press tour did not simply promote the film; it amplified and reinforced its themes of femininity, irony and self-awareness.
Something similar unfolded with Dune: Part Two. Months before its premiere, interviews with Timothée Chalamet and Zendaya circulated widely, with fans clipping moments of their playful friendship and creative chemistry. Red carpet events became spectacles of their own, as attendees arrived in futuristic looks that functioned as visual world-building and echoed the film’s epic scale. Even viewers who knew little about the plot found themselves drawn into its atmosphere. Anticipation became tied not only to the narrative set on Arrakis, the vast desert planet where the story unfolds, but to the personalities bringing it to life. But unlike Barbie’s overt theatricality, Dune’s press tour worked more subtly. The chemistry clips, the laughter and the inside jokes all softened a film that is otherwise dense, political and austere. The epic felt intimate before we ever saw it. That shift matters. When a story rooted in prophecy and power is framed through charm and relatability, we enter not just ready for the spectacle, but ready to adore the people delivering it.
And then there’s Challengers, whose tour became a viral fashion spectacle. Zendaya’s looks, from tennis-ball-adorned Loewe heels in Rome to a neon tennis green Celia Kritharioti gown in Los Angeles, turned red carpets into an extension of the film’s narrative, emphasizing style, competition and spectacle. For example, at a London photocall, she wore a striped vest and matching miniskirt from Vivienne Westwood’s Café Society collection, complete with a distinctive white feathered bustle on the back. These outfits added layers to the story’s world and shaped audience expectations before the film even premiered. But they did more than simply complement the film’s themes; they rehearsed them. By the time audiences entered the theatre, Zendaya had already performed the film’s tension and glamour in real life. The press tour felt less like promotion and more like an opening act, blurring the lines between performance and publicity.
What’s happening here is more than good marketing. It’s a carefully staged expansion of the story, one that can feel immersive and exciting, but also forces us to ask whether we’re being invited into art or into branding. Press tours now act as extensions of the film both before and after its release. They give audiences a framework for how to watch as well as a lens through which to interpret it afterward. When actors reveal the ‘real’ or ‘deeper’ meaning behind a scene, that interpretation lingers, whether positive or negative. When co-stars joke about certain moments or their on-screen chemistry, audiences take notice. Marketing materials that were once purely promotional are now part of the storytelling itself.
Soundtrack artists also play a crucial role in this expansion, and I, for one, am always quick to look up the soundtrack or related music after a film. During the Barbie press cycle, artists like Billie Eilish and Dua Lipa didn’t just contribute songs; they shaped the way audiences experienced the film. With both videos carefully directed, Dua Lipa’s Dance the Night was more upbeat, highlighting fun and glamour, while Billie Eilish’s What Was I Made For reflected vulnerability and self-discovery. Together, they primed audiences to engage with Barbie on a deeper, more introspective level, rather than solely as a source of comedic entertainment.
In the age of Instagram Reels and 15-second TikToks, these fragments travel faster than traditional media ever could. A 30-second clip of an interview or behind-the-scenes moment can rack up a million views in a matter of hours. A single line from an actor or actress can ignite controversy overnight. Audiences increasingly form parasocial bonds with casts, rooting for them on and off screen and even influencing how they interpret the story. This raises a compelling question: Has marketing become part of the narrative itself? If narrative is the world we build around characters and themes, then the answer is yes. Marketing now shapes expectations, sets the tone and even when viewers would have formed their own opinions from the film alone, post-film content can reshape, amplify or reinforce those impressions. Cinema once asked us to sit in the dark and decide for ourselves. Now it often arrives with commentary attached. The film no longer exists only on screen; it lives in every clip, outfit and interview that precedes it. By the time the lights dim, the narrative is already in motion.
Mikayla Tetteh-Martey is a member of the Class of 2027 in the College of Agriculture and Life Sciences. She is a staff writer for the Arts & Culture department and can be reached at mtetteh-martey@cornellsun.com.
