Why Netflix is Staying Silent on Greta Gerwig’s Narnia | Analysis

The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the position of NarniaWeb.

Nearly a year before its expected IMAX debut, Netflix has revealed almost nothing publicly about Greta Gerwig’s Narnia movies: no official title, no confirmed cast list, no concept art or logo — even as the production filmed in visible locations across England this summer. For a project reportedly among Netflix’s most expensive, with a budget that industry reports suggested could exceed $200 million, that silence has naturally raised questions among fans.

For longtime Narnia fans who’ve watched every attempt to revive the series since The Voyage of the Dawn Treader’s box-office disappointment in 2010, Netflix’s quiet approach can feel a bit unsettling. But what’s really behind it?

The Sound of Silence

That question has only grown louder after a particular casting rumour. In April, two outlets reported that Meryl Streep was in talks to voice Aslan, a report to which Netflix declined to comment. Whether the report is true or not (see NarniaWeb’s investigation), the story sparked intense backlash online and the studio’s continued silence since has, to some fans, felt less like strategy and more like damage control. Needless to say, it has cast a long shadow over subsequent coverage.

Part of that anxiety stems from details Netflix could easily confirm and from a worry among some fans that the silence is concealing more substantial creative shifts rather than mere marketing choices. If the widely circulated set photos identifying David McKenna and Beatrice Campbell as Digory and Polly are accurate, why not acknowledge them — or highlight the confirmed presence of top-tier behind-the-scenes talent such as production designer James Chinlund, set decorator Lee Sandales, costume designer Jacqueline Durran, and cinematographer Seamus McGarvey? Announcing lead actors and design talent would signal legitimacy after years of false starts, and they’d be earning far more media coverage if they issued press releases rather than relying on fan sites to first report these details.

Of course, early confirmation isn’t without risk: it can lock Netflix into premature messaging, disrupt negotiations, spoil later marketing beats, or extend controversy cycles before the company is ready. Netflix’s silence could, then, reflect a certain stubbornness — a confidence in its own methods, even when the cat’s already out of the bag. Netflix has repeatedly shown it will follow its own instincts about timing and control, even when that approach frustrates traditional fan communities.

Netflix’s Playbook

Over the last few years, the company has proven willing to compress promotional windows for its releases. A good comparison is Rian Johnson’s Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery. Despite being one of Netflix’s most prestigious acquisitions (a $450 million deal for two sequels to a non-IP film), the streamer kept marketing under wraps until just a few months before release. The first teaser arrived in September 2022, with the film premiering at TIFF days later and reaching theatres in late November. No long runway, no years of speculation; just a sharp, timed campaign leading directly into its streaming debut.

Knives Out illustrates both sides of the coin. A tightly orchestrated strategy and a stubborn insistence that Netflix’s model can replace the old long-lead playbook. That duality is exactly what makes the company’s silence on Narnia ambiguous: it may be smart planning, unapologetic confidence, or both.

This kind of rollout may feel counterintuitive for fans accustomed to the Disney model, where major franchises typically start marketing more than a year out to build anticipation. But Netflix’s playbook seems to value timing over teasing.

That approach also aligns naturally with Gerwig’s own filmmaking tendencies. She and husband/collaborator Noah Baumbach often develop films in a low-noise environment, letting a few carefully timed reveals carry the full weight of publicity. Baumbach’s upcoming Netflix film Jay Kelly, for instance, remained untitled and with only the briefest of synopses throughout most of its production. Barbie offered relatively little early detail before its marketing exploded — an effect Netflix will surely want to replicate, at scale, within its own ecosystem.

In that sense, the quiet might be less about hiding changes from fans and more about creative control: Gerwig and Netflix both prefer to speak when they can do so on their own terms.

Two Opposites: Netflix vs IMAX

Netflix’s approach to marketing has always been shaped by its business model: there’s little value in telling audiences about something they can’t watch immediately. As The Drum has noted, Netflix prefers audiences to discover a film by hearing about it and then instantly find it. The company’s strategy thrives on the shortest possible distance between awareness and availability.

IMAX, on the other hand, thrives on “eventizing” films as experiences. The large-format screen, the precision of 70mm projection (where available), and the immersive scale are all part of what you’re buying and how they justify the higher ticket price. That’s also why IMAX put select tickets for Christopher Nolan’s The Odyssey on sale a year in advance. They want audiences to treat IMAX like a once-in-a-decade concert rather than another casual night at the movies.

That’s where Narnia becomes a fascinating test case. Netflix’s first-ever IMAX partnership demands the kind of long-lead awareness campaign that runs counter to its usual “drop it when it’s ready” rhythm. Balancing those two opposing approaches will be a major test of how adaptable Netflix’s marketing strategy really is.

There’s already evidence Netflix recognizes the stakes. We’ve heard reports of the company courting a Hollywood marketing chief and consulting with faith-based media specialists, both of which suggest ambitions well beyond a typical Netflix rollout. Even the IMAX arrangement with Gerwig guarantees Narnia the kind of visibility and resources typically reserved for major studio blockbusters: premieres, press junkets, trailers, and a global rollout. It may not feel like it now, but Netflix seems to be building toward a much larger moment than it’s letting on.

Still, it’s worth remembering that Netflix’s ultimate focus isn’t the IMAX release but the streaming debut that follows. IMAX CEO Richard Gelfond recently explained that, for streaming platforms, the theatrical release is essentially “a trailer for the streaming run.” Netflix’s endgame has never been about box-office numbers, but viewership and engagement once the film lands on its own platform.

Silence Has Its Costs

For Netflix, that control has clear advantages. Holding back early marketing beats reduces the number of ways a campaign can go off-message, minimizes rumour cycles, and gives marketing teams time to craft a unified reveal — title, tone, and scale unveiled all at once when buzz can most effectively translate into streams. And it’s hard to argue with the results: with more than 300 million subscribers worldwide, Netflix can rely on its own algorithms and interface to put a film directly in front of audiences. In many ways, the platform is their marketing machine.

But here’s the oddity of Netflix’s silence. In trying to control the narrative, it might end up losing it. When a studio doesn’t fill that space with something concrete, fans and commentators inevitably will and then even the smallest hint of change can take on a life of its own. Expanding Polly’s home life or giving Jadis a wand might be minor adaptational choices, but they can suddenly feel seismic simply because there’s nothing else concrete to go on. The longer Netflix stays quiet, the more the conversation drifts away from the film itself and toward frustration, fatigue, or worse — apathy.

For a film expected to launch a universe, that approach carries its own risks. The same control that keeps the campaign tidy can also make it feel insular, as if Netflix’s desire to own every stage of the conversation outweighs its willingness to engage with fans who’ve been waiting for years.

Genre films and adaptations, after all, are built on participation. When Disney and Walden Media developed their Narnia films, they gradually built anticipation by sharing glimpses of the world, including concept art, production updates, and even the occasional on-set diary. None of it revealed plot details, but it offered fans a sense of direction and a reason to believe. That approach made the long wait feel like part of the adventure.

Netflix’s quiet approach may be deliberate, but it’s left many who’ve invested in this series feeling alienated. Even if their worst fears never materialize, a sense of uncertainty still hovers over the production. It’s true that, in the end, what matters most is the finished film. But a brief interview with Gerwig, a behind-the-scenes photo, or even a piece of concept art (perhaps something as simple as a maned lion) could help ease that worry and reassure fans that the story they’ve been waiting for is still on track, and still faithful to the heart of C.S. Lewis’s world.

Either way, the silence has become its own story. As the one-year countdown approaches, fans can only wait and wonder when Netflix will finally let Narnia speak.

If it were up to you, would Narnia’s marketing stay silent for now like Netflix’s approach, or would you reveal more to build excitement? Let us know in the comments below.