Over the past decade, US-based entertainment company A24 has become synonymous with “quality” independent and edgy screen content. Having distributed and produced (or co-produced) more than 180 films, as well as a number of series, the studio sits somewhere between the cultural fringe and mainstream.
Three years ago, A24 made headlines over a record-setting Oscars sweep with Everything Everywhere All At Once (2022) and The Whale (2022). It remains in the headlines today – this time stirring controversy with its latest film, The Drama, and the release of a polarising final season of Euphoria (2019–26).
Meanwhile, the company’s biggest recent release, Marty Supreme (2025), went home empty handed at the 2026 Academy Awards – despite netting nine nominations and being bolstered by a buzzy marketing campaign.
Even so, A24 remains the “indie darling” of cinema. How did it achieve this status? And what, if anything, sets it apart from other studios?
Aura farming
In the current competitive media landscape, achieving success as a studio hinges on: 1) getting a lot of attention and 2) generating a sense of intimacy and authenticity for audiences. In other words, it goes far beyond just the product.
A24 is multi-billion-dollar studio and distributor financed by venture capital. It even has loose ties to the Trump administration through Josh Kushner, the younger brother of Donald Trump’s son-in-law Jared Kushner. Yet it presents a unique kind of authenticity, which particularly resonates with the always-online generation.
In a recently published journal article, we explain how A24 leverages its “brand aura” to balance wide appeal with a sense of “cool”.
It cultivates this aura through provocative marketing, coveted merchandise, and a savvy approach to online engagement.
Films for know-it-all cinephiles
A24 was founded in 2012 by indie film veterans Daniel Katz, David Fenkel and John Hodges. The name comes from the Autostrada A24, the road in Italy Katz was driving on when he was inspired to start the company.
The studio started off with a mix of quirky low-to-mid budget (but still star-studded) films that deviated from conventional narratives.
Early releases included Harmony Korine’s hypersexual postmodern crime thriller Spring Breakers (2013), Sofia Coppola’s The Bling Ring (2013) and first-time director Gillian Robspierre’s Obvious Child (2014).
As Zach Baron wrote for GQ in 2017:
For a new distribution company, it seemed to have a level of taste and an instinct for cool that is atypical in Hollywood. It was also that A24 was releasing these films not with a sigh and a shrug, but with panache, style, and humour.
The studio made a name for itself distributing unconventional sci-fi films, such as Ex Machina (2015), and “elevated” horror flicks such as The Witch (2016), Hereditary (2018) and Midsommar (2019).
A24 films stood out for subverting mainstream norms, both thematically and stylistically. Midsommar, for instance, has deliberately slow pacing, and rejects the horror genre’s classically dark and dreary colour palate.
Many films also have a strong counter-cultural flavour: Oscar-winning Moonlight (2016) takes a unique approach to centring the Black, queer experience; The Lobster (2015) is a surreal dystopian film that satirises modern relationships; and Everything Everywhere All at Once is an absurd, genre-bending comedy that explores the immigrant experience.
Newer offerings have veered closer to the “mainstream”. These include big-budget action spectacles such as Civil War (2024) and Warfare (2025), and ambitious awards-bait pieces such as The Smashing Machine (2025) and Marty Supreme.
Nonetheless, the studio has largely managed to retain a distinct identity. As Barry Jenkins, director of Moonlight, said in 2016:
That’s why everyone says, ‘I know what an A24 film is, but no A24 film is like any other’.
Like any film company, A24 has had its share of flops, such as Death of a Unicorn (2025) and Opus (2025). But these are cleverly swept under the rug, as to not tarnish the brand.
Leaning into online film culture
Current creative director Zoe Beyer started working on forming the company’s online voice back in 2013.
As Beyer experimented with different social media platforms, she found audiences responded to the more “weird and playful” content. Reposting quirky GIFs and images quickly became a part of her strategy.
The studio’s first hit, Spring Breakers, featured several “meme-worthy sequences” that were easily repurposed into popular meme formats. Fans love memes as they can use them – along with inside jokes and intertextual references – to communicate “insider” status.
A24 also has a knack for running sharp and often deliberately provocative marketing campaigns. In 2016, it partnered with the Satanic Temple to promote historical folk horror The Witch.
Last year’s campaign for Marty Supreme was just as flamboyant. It involved a fake “leaked” marketing meeting, a ping-pong tournament hosted by Airbnb, some bizarre red carpet fashion, and endorsements from all manner of celebrities, including Susan Boyle.
More recently, The Drama generated buzz through a purposefully ambiguous trailer that promised viewers a shocking twist.
A lifestyle brand
Another driver of A24’s brand aura is carefully curated merchandise. Its popular online shop offers clothing, homewares, collectables, a monthly film zine and a subscription to an insider fan club.
No one ever bought a jersey or beach towel emblazoned with “New Line Cinema”. But A24 fans can demonstrate their cinephilia through products such as a The Drama wedding cake topper, or limited edition Marty Supreme shoes. You can even get an A24 leash for your dog.
However, as A24 expands and diversifies, it risks losing the very edge that set it apart. What will happen if it starts to favour big-budget spectacle over subversive, auteur-driven films? In this case, it’s unlikely brand aura alone will be enough to save Hollywood’s indie darling.
The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.
