Abstract geometric composition illustrating wicked proves that patience is a marketing strategy

December 2024 ยท Brand Strategy

Wicked Proves That Patience Is a Marketing Strategy

But I'm not here to review the movie. I'm here to talk about why its marketing campaign is the most strategically patient thing I've seen from a studio in years, and what that patience can teach br...

I have a confession: I cried three times during Wicked. In the theater. Surrounded by strangers. While my friend pretended not to notice. "Defying Gravity" still does things to me that I can't explain rationally and refuse to apologize for.

But I'm not here to review the movie. I'm here to talk about why its marketing campaign is the most strategically patient thing I've seen from a studio in years, and what that patience can teach brands that are addicted to launch-day sugar rushes.

Universal started marketing Wicked in late 2023. The first trailer dropped almost a year before release. They rolled out partnerships with over 400 brands. Four hundred. Starbucks cups. OPI nail polishes. Crocs (yes, Crocs). Xbox controllers. Target had an entire end-cap. The pink and green color scheme colonized retail like a bedazzled army.

This should have felt exhausting. Oversaturated. "Wicked fatigue" should have been a thing by October. But it wasn't. And here's why.

Universal understood that Wicked isn't a movie. It's a cultural event. And cultural events need runway.

A movie has a release date. A cultural event has a season. By treating Wicked as a season rather than a date, Universal gave audiences permission to build anticipation slowly, to incorporate the movie into their identity gradually, to choose their own entry point into the experience (the Starbucks drink, the nail polish, the costume, the TikTok trend) long before they entered the theater.

The strategic principle: extend the purchase journey, don't compress it.

Most brands do the opposite. They save everything for launch week. One big reveal. One burst of media. One spike of attention. And then it's over, and they're left wondering why the cultural impact felt so brief.

Wicked's approach, a year-long escalation with enough variety to sustain interest without repetition, treated the audience's attention as something to be cultivated rather than captured. Each partnership was a new touchpoint, a new reason to pay attention, a new way to feel connected to the property.

The other genius: they let fans lead. The pink and green trend on TikTok wasn't studio-manufactured. It was fan-driven, with the studio amplifying rather than initiating. By the time the movie opened, the audience felt ownership of the moment. They hadn't been marketed to. They'd been part of the marketing.

Compare this to Moana 2, which opened the same week and did massive numbers on sheer IP strength but without anywhere near the cultural event feeling. Moana 2 will make money because the first one was beloved. Wicked will make money because the campaign made people feel like missing it would be missing a moment.

That's the difference between exploitation of existing equity and creation of new cultural energy. Both are valid strategies. But only one makes people line up in costume on opening night.

The lesson for every brand planning a major launch: start earlier than feels comfortable. Create more entry points than feels necessary. And trust your audience to build momentum for you if you give them the tools.

The lesson for every brand planning a major launch: start earlier than feels comfortable.

Patience isn't just a virtue. It's a strategy. And it's green.