There’s a new Batman show (The Penguin) that doesn’t have Batman in it, which will be followed in a couple weeks by a second Batman movie without Batman (The Joker 2, or whatever it’s called).
Amazon has a Lord of the Rings show that only features a couple of characters from the main books/movies.
By year’s end we’ll also have received two more movies about Spider-man villains that don’t feature Spider-man (Madame Web, Kraven the Hunter).
The cynical view is that these are shameless, creatively empty cash grabs designed to wring every possible dollar out of a piece of intellectual property, and that view would be largely correct (especially for those Spider-man-less Spider-man movies). But I think the proliferation of these franchise extensions (distinct from the higher-profile “cinematic universes”) signals a shift in the role of branded content and even, as we’ll get to in a bit, the role of brands overall.
Based on the first episode, The Penguin seems to be a standard (and very well made) mob-centered anti-hero story. If you squint, it could feel like a Tony Soprano origin story. But without the connection to the Batman universe, the show wouldn’t be made (or at least not on this budget).
The role of the brand/franchise is to raise the floor, to guarantee a minimum level of success. Imagine what the floor would have been for Madame Web without the Spider-man connection… (The same floor/ceiling calculus applies beyond just geeky media: the recent Matlock reboot with Kathy Bates as a prime example.)
But with that raised floor also comes a self-imposed lower ceiling. The Penguin can never be bigger than Batman just like Cherry Coke can’t be bigger than Coke Classic. (Note that Dr Pepper, an “original” brand in this beleaguered analogy, has surpassed Pepsi in market share.) This is why I expect The Joker 2 to dramatically underperform compared to its predecessor. If initial success is founded on the Batman brand, eventually Batman has to show up.
Or does he? Recent attempts at extending or reviving brands in entertainment-adjacent categories aim to prove otherwise…
Can the Pac-12 Survive After Losing Its Core Product?
If McDonald’s replaced their entire menu except for the apple pie and the Filet ‘o Fish, is it still McDonald’s?
That’s essentially the gambit that the two remaining (and least valuable) members of the Pac-12 conference, Oregon State and Washington State, are testing as they re-constitute their league with lesser-tier schools. (If you haven’t been following this, it’s very complicated and you can see it explained here.)
OSU and WSU are betting that the Pac-12 brand is so valuable, so admired in the eyes of sports fans that it will lift the profile of the obscure sub-brands its incorporating. But that brand became loved because of the success of departed schools like USC, UCLA, and Oregon.
Is the Chick-Fil-A Brand So Adored It Can Win in a Totally Different Category?
Chick-Fil-A is undeniably one of the strongest brands in the US, consistently ranking #1 in fast food customer satisfaction.
But the announcement that Chick-Fil-A is launching a streaming service, entering a category that most entertainment companies have not managed to make profitable yet, seemed like an Onion article.
Why would such a loved brand venture into such uncharted waters? Especially a brand that insists on rigid controls of its core product: CFA does not “franchise” in the traditional sense. They instead sell operator licenses to highly-vetted individuals who get a share of store profits instead of outright ownership.
It can’t purely be a brand equity play since that equity can barely be improved. And it can’t be financial since the company still has plenty of room to grow in the more predictable QSR business.
Chik Fil A and the Pac-12 are exploring a common question from opposite angles: What is the essence of a brand in 2025? Is it the core product it was born from? Is it the lifestyle or aspirations of its most rabid fans? Is it a cultural footprint?
And each have, apparently, arrived at wildly opposing answers.
For the Pac-12, a brand is the lowest common denominator symbol of the product it represents: college kids playing football. There’s a market for college football and OSU and WSU believe they can garner more of that financial market with the label they’ve always used.
For Chick-Fil-A, their brand is a belief system, and so can be translated from brick and mortar sandwich shacks to entertainment platforms, united around “family-friendly” packaging.
They’re both wrong, of course, as they stretch the limits of brand power to unsustainable ends. The most basic role of a brand in our culture is to help consumers make choices, and both the Pac-12 or Chick-Fil-A’s efforts complicate our views of their brands. There might well be a business opportunity for a more “family-friendly” streaming service, but it’s not currently a category that consumers are looking for MORE choice in. Paradoxically similar, the original Pac-12 wasn’t strong enough to survive with its premiere teams, so simply putting lipstick on a skinnier pig can’t help any of its constituents or trick consumers into thinking it’s the same quality product as before.
And that’s the reason why both efforts are doomed to fail: they’ve disregarded the human needs that should drive brand decisions. Unlike The Penguin, which delivers a compelling crime underworld TV show with or without its Batman context, the Pac-12 and Chick-Fil-A are giving us more of what consumers have already said they’ve got enough of.
This Week’s Whimsies
Here’s a shocking stat: 85% of all CTV Ad Time is found on Cable & Broadcast TV. Even though streaming drives culture, it still a fraction of the ad market. This more in a great analysis from Evan Shapiro.
Perhaps more stunning: OnlyFans generated $6.3 billion in revenue this year. Pornography is usually at the forefront of consumer behavior changes, so we can expect the creator economy to evolve towards a similar model over time.
A lovely reflection on the history and current joy of New York City’s waterways.
The organization National Novel Writing Month is facing backlash for claiming that condemnation of AI is “classist and ableist,” which is a shockingly weird hill for a non-profit organization to die on. But this won’t be the last weird battle that bubbles up from the AI-fueled future.
I loved this New Yorker piece from two years ago about identity, subtitled “Are you the same person you were when you were a child?” ($)
Your analysis of these unusual brand extensions is excellent as always.
But I'm going to gently push back on what the essence of a brand is in 2025. I actually argue with myself on this one, but I'm sure you would have a better response than the dueling devil's advocacy going on in my head about this topic.
Things like "Chick-Fil-A+" (or whatever they call it!) and Pac-12's low-tier expansion aren't things that anyone seemed to ask for. And I wouldn't argue that anyone needs either of their new projects.
I do think that at its core, a brand should mean a set of familiar attributes surrounding a core product, whether it's soft drinks, chicken sandwiches, or college football. But a brand is also a distinct identity that reflects a sensibility that creates an attachment of values in consumers' minds.
The Batman offshoot The Penguin series on MAX represents the value of a brand extension — when it's done right. (I'll take your word for it; it's on my list of things to watch!)
The first rule of a brand extension is that it has to be "better than it needs to be." It can't just be good. Because it's entirely superfluous, and likely to be initially regarded as an inauthentic distraction from the core product, the benchmark for success is extremely high to overcome the doubt and justify its creation and continued existence.
It's not just about art for art's sake. It does have to be comfortable making that claim. But the purpose, aside from bringing in additional revenue, it helps both tease and satisfy a brand's devotee's desire for more.
As audiences are more niche than mass, this is as good a time as any to test their appetite by expanding a brand's franchising abilities.
The Penguin series seems to perform that role perfectly. The next Batman movie isn't going to be out until 2026 — a long four years after the first one. Now, I realize Batman movie fans are patient. But given the changes in media consumption, who knows what the movie theater landscape will even look like two years from now? (I'm guessing the market for theatrical releases will be more attenuated.)
From a marketing perspective as well as an artistic one, The Penguin is a good way to maintain fans' interest in the core Batman story, which is still reportedly in development. At the very least, it's a great way to track it in advance of a big budget release set for 2026.
Given the fluidity and varying levels of audience attention and affection, expanding a brand to create new avenues in the marketplace makes sense. But like anything else, a quick cash grab or doing it "just because we can," obviously courts disaster.
So... With all that in mind, stay tuned for "Brand Newsroom: The Musical!" Ahem!