No producer will argue that doing business (well) as an advertising production company has become a steep uphill slope. Tinygiants has found an oversized fuel source. Neil Champagne, head of development, explains (and explores) it:
While much of the entertainment industry idles, uncertain what disruption AI might bring to the industry at large, a less noticeable but no less consequential shift is already well underway. Commercial production companies are subtly constructing long-form arms that are making meaningful noise in the independent film space and media landscape. I say all this, as one of the people banging a drum.
This isn’t exactly new. Companies like RadicalMedia and Anonymous, among a long list of others, have been active between formats for decades, but the current moment is a byproduct of much different reasoning. These moves into features are no longer just vanity side quests for directors who are principals at their own shops, itching to walk a carpet. They’re becoming core strategic plays, anchored in personal brand-building, talent development, long-term revenue streams, and cross-platform partner building. As United Talent Agency’s David Anderson notes, “we’ve seen a real shift… a real commitment on behalf of big brands to take this much more seriously.” For both brands and production companies, these are business plays shrouded in storytelling. At a time when media feels increasingly ephemeral, commercial companies need to remain nimble and stay relevant, which in this instance means embracing the big, little, and second screens. These companies need to create media and art that lasts beyond a campaign window, using tools and partners from their core business, with the goal of hanging on to the potential revenues associated with it.
Companies like Tinygiant, Sanctuary and Caviar, are shifting into higher gears, with slates expanding, and films premiering and selling at Sundance, SXSW, and Venice. I can’t speak for the other companies, but we specifically feel strategically and creatively equipped because of our commercial roots. Now, the decision to expand into new market segments doesn’t come without risk. The broader film and TV industry is contracting rapidly. According to FilmLA in Q1 of 2025 shoot days dropped 22% compared to the year prior. With productions down, so are the number of films (and other media) being purchased by distributors and buyers alike. Whose fault is it? Well, that’s a separate 5000 word write-up. It’s a complicated chicken or the egg issue, but blame aside, one thing can be certain – in moments of change there often lies great opportunity, you just have to look in the right direction.
From a business model perspective, investors and producers making films are generally exposed to more financial risk than the front-loaded fee-for-service work in producing commercials and campaigns. A commercial that fails might cost you that next job from the agency. A film that fails will cost you a lot more money and tarnish your brand on a bigger stage. Still, the upside of filmmaking in today’s ever-connected media landscape can be powerful and multi-layered. For commercial production companies able to develop meaningful films that find a home in the cultural marketplace, the long-form work becomes a brand-builder in its own right. A calling card that begets more creative and commercial opportunities.
Instead of crafting beautiful moving images for brands they don’t own, many companies are now using story as a way to define their own identity. For example, we are a women-owned and controlled company (WBENC). GOOD ONE, which premiered Sundance in 2024 and went on to play director’s fortnite in Cannes, was written and directed by India Donaldson, a quietly powerful filmic voice. The success of this film has opened further doors and collaborations with other female filmmakers, which our entire company ethos is built on. Furthermore, when a film succeeds, critically, commercially, or even just within the right niche, it plants the company’s name in the minds of the very advertisers and creatives who commission their commercial work. Caviar produced WAR PONY, a Riley Keough film that became a New York Times critic’s pick, which signals to the broader media and advertising landscape that you can deliver quality media. These skills and access to multiple industries can often merge and also be mutually beneficial. For companies already fluent in the language of branding, the cross-pollination is natural. Their presence in the ad world becomes a pipeline for brand partnerships across formats, bringing more creative latitude, more financial upside on long-form content, and overall long-term value.
A bonus is that commercial roots make them scrappier, faster, and more surgical with all the creative craft to deliver impactful long-form pieces. As budgets contract for long form, they are already equipped with the tools and experience to deliver the material in a more nimble way than the Hollywood apparatus. The challenge then becomes how to successfully tell stories that stretch across acts, not just frames.
Historically, the divide between a :30 spot and a 90-minute feature was more than just a matter of time. It was a bifurcation of purpose. One sold soap. The other sold a story. Commercials are distilled persuasion; films and television are expansive storytelling. But for a while now, those lines are blurring at the seams, and we are starting to see the expansion of the two goals coexisting. In the current marketplace, the platforms have consolidated back to ad-driven models, and brands need new ways of reaching new audiences. In this instance, the business model for exhibitors has furthered the breadth of integration of advertising and those relationships across formats.
Now, there’s a plethora of creative decisions that change when you go long-form. The cadence, the emotional arc, even the silence matters more. But what’s becoming clear is that storytelling, the kind that sticks, is no longer a luxury for brands. It’s a necessity. And the companies that have been crafting moments for sub-thirty seconds are now poised to craft longer movements.
Tinygiant is a case in point. Led by myself (that feels weird to say, not a humble brag I swear…), has been quietly building a feature division rooted in a director-first, genre-agnostic model that champions creative vision over commercial convention. Our strategy centres on selectively partnering with filmmakers who can speak to an underserved segment of the indie market. We are after the audiences seeking character-driven, auteur-led stories in a landscape increasingly shaped by algorithms. By prioritising creative alignment and budget discipline, at Tinygiant we have positioned ourselves to deliver prestige-calibre work at accessible scales. In 2025, our slate reflects this ethos. ASCO: WITHOUT PERMISSION premiered at SXSW; THE TRAVEL COMPANION debuted at Tribeca; and BLUE HERON is set to premiere internationally at Locarno and domestically at TIFF.
Our most recent feature, SHE KEEPS ME YOUNG, due out this winter, offers a glimpse into how long-form and brand partnership models might coexist. With companies like Ben & Jerry’s and Volvo, not mere product drops, but as collaborators in the narrative fabric, the film, with brand integration, subsidised the production costs without sacrificing the voice of the director. For the brands, it meant exposure to a hard-to-quantify demo that Nielsen can’t quite wrap its arms around: those cinephile lovers who attend the festivals in droves (and also happen to be consumers). For the filmmakers, it meant money on screen, without creative compromise. A win-win, built with intent.
And Tinygiant is not alone. Sanctuary is doing similar things for its directors. For example, they have nurtured directors like Marry Dauterman across both formats, proving that craft is craft whether it’s a :60 Super Bowl spot or her debut feature, BOOGER, that premiered at Fantasia. These companies aren’t just bridges between formats. They’re creative ecosystems. Talent flows in, and if the system is built right, it sticks around.
We are now at an impasse, where a new blueprint is emerging, one that moves beyond the old binaries of commercial vs. creative, art vs. advertising, or film vs. feed. This model is elastic: flexible across mediums, yet grounded enough to generate lasting IP. Part of this shift is pragmatic. The era of doing just one thing well, like making beautiful commercials, is fading. While craft still matters, margins are thinner, and timelines shorter. Traditional service-based structures, dependent on client budgets and agency relationships, are increasingly vulnerable to market cycles. Owning IP offers stability while building a production brand that might help you acquire future brand work. It turns creative output into long-term assets rather than short-term deliverables. Smart companies are carving out focused lanes in long-form, developing slates that are specific rather than broad, to find the sweet spot of their own identities and their directors. Whether in genre-forward cinema, emerging voices, or culturally resonant stories. The goal isn’t scale for its own sake, but depth and coherence across segments that can bolster one another.
While the economics of independent film remain challenging, companies pursuing this wider model are building ecosystems that are creatively distinct and financially more resilient. Still, success depends on alignment across divisions, to share risk and support growth, all whilst adapting as the landscape evolves.
In a world where the attention span is the currency, and the algorithm is the gatekeeper, the ability to tell a resonant story, to own it, shape it, and deliver it across screens, is the ultimate power play.
So yes, while much of the industry may be holding its breath for the AI tidal wave, a more human revolution is taking place. One that’s taste over templates, narrative over noise, and strategy over showmanship.
Cover image by Kyle Loftus at Pexels.
