by Paul Carpenter

Last month, I wrote about Georgia’s film tax credit and how it’s been available to commercial advertising production all along. What was interesting was the response – people I didn’t even know commenting, almost thanking me for pointing out something that was once the backbone of production here prior to us becoming a beacon for film and TV production.

Then, scrolling through my news feed a few weeks ago, I saw the announcement that Gap hired a Chief Entertainment Officer. I think it is worth repeating that – an apparel brand created a role in the C-Suite that is focused on entertainment? You bet. Pam Kaufman, a former Paramount executive, is building their “Fashiontainment” platform across music, television, film, sports, and gaming. And they’re opening an office to do it … on Sunset Boulevard in Los Angeles.

Not in Atlanta.

I mean, why would they? They’re a West Coast-based brand. But that’s beside the point.

The point here is that a shift is happening, and it’s accelerating. Forbes just declared 2026 “the year of brand storytelling,” noting that storytelling has moved “decisively out of the creative department and into the boardroom.”

The Wall Street Journal reported that companies are “desperately seeking storytellers,” calling it a strategic function, not a creative luxury. Then I saw the Adweek piece. Ludacris and Tony Ressler – the Atlanta Hawks owner – discussing Atlanta’s rise as a marketing, music, and sports powerhouse.

The term they used? “Brandlanta.”

They didn’t use it as an aspiration, they used it as a description. As if it’s already happening. But is it?

This Isn’t About Making Ads Anymore

The shift is not a subtle one. Brands aren’t just promoting products anymore, they’re producing content that audiences actually want to watch. Some recently announced examples paint the picture. 

Maybelline produced a five-part microdrama in under six weeks with Netflix stars, and Fanatics is launching a studio to produce the ESPYs. Meanwhile, Sephora commissioned content that generated 1.5 million minutes watched and Kevin Hart’s company Hartbeat opened an entire division dedicated to branded entertainment after raising $100 million. 

These aren’t marketing experiments. They’re entertainment properties funded by brands. And according to Forbes, this is just the beginning. 

James Crane at Sugar23, a production company connecting brands with Hollywood talent, put it plainly: “I strongly believe we are about to enter the next golden age of entertainment. And it won’t be driven by studios or streamers. It will be driven by brands, sports teams, and the intersection of marketing and advertising.”

He’s describing what’s already happening. Right now.

Everyone Sees It But Us

If this shift is happening nationally, is it happening in Atlanta? 

Look at what we have sitting right here: Coca-Cola, Delta, Home Depot, UPS, Chick-fil-A and Truist Bank are all headquartered in Georgia, with Porsche, State Farm, AT&T and Mercedes-Benz maintaining massive marketing presences here. 

We’ve got world-class agencies producing award-winning work, production infrastructure built for blockbuster films worth billions annually, crews who’ve worked on everything, universities producing emerging talent and a cost structure that makes ambitious production sustainable rather than prohibitively expensive.

And we have tax incentives offering 20% back on qualified production spend – the same incentives that built our entertainment industry, available to commercial and branded content production right now. 

Adweek is literally calling us “Brandlanta.” The national media is recognizing what we’ve built. Ludacris and Tony Ressler are championing Atlanta’s creative economy to the industry. Every ingredient is here, and the external validation is already happening. 

And yet.

Our Secret Sauce (And Possibly Our Blind Spot)

Southern hospitality is real. It’s why people move here, why companies relocate here, and why Atlanta has become one of the most dynamic cities in America for both business and quality of life. That warmth, that welcoming energy and that commitment to making people feel at home is our secret sauce when it comes to building community and attracting talent. It’s why Adweek can even use the term “Brandlanta” with a straight face.

But here’s the thing nobody wants to ask out loud: Does the same hospitality that makes Atlanta great for living also make us hesitant about competing? 

Are we too warm and welcoming when we should be bold and declarative? We hedge, saying “we could be a leader” instead of “we ARE a leader.” We position ourselves as a great alternative instead of a primary choice. We don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable with how aggressively we want this. Is that why we’re OK labeling ourselves the “Hollywood of the South” instead of being who we are – Atlanta?

The national conversation is already positioning us as “Brandlanta.” Forbes is already declaring brand storytelling the future, and the Wall Street Journal is reporting that companies are seeking this as a vital skill when hiring. 

But we’re still waiting to see if it’s “OK” to claim Georgia as the destination for all of this.

We’ve Done This Before

The curious part? We’ve seen how this can be done. 

Ted Turner didn’t ask permission to make Atlanta the center of media. He built CNN and Turner Broadcasting and forced the world to pay attention. 

Andre 3000 didn’t politely suggest that Southern hip-hop deserved consideration. He stood on a stage at the Source Awards in 1995 and said, “The South got something to say,” changing the territorial landscape of hip-hop. 

Tyler Perry didn’t wait for Hollywood to validate his vision, either. He built Tyler Perry Studios and created an empire that showed the industry you can do it on your own terms. You might not please everyone, but you can blaze a trail for others.

That version of Atlanta shows up in our history, but not yet in how we’re positioning ourselves to the industry as a whole.

What’s On The Table

It’s an immediate opportunity for Atlanta studios to be producing branded content for local companies, for those brands to lean into our agencies to develop entertainment and for those brands and agencies to partner with local production companies and call Georgia home. 

As an example of something I see in other markets, brands could be commissioning documentaries that generate millions of minutes watched, like DIRT from Huckberry (YouTube). Brands could be creating content that functions as entertainment first, producing stories about makers, creators, and communities that people actually choose to watch – content that earns attention rather than trying to buy it from a bot.

The work could start here, with our brands, our agencies and our studios. As I’ve written before, the infrastructure is here, the financial incentives are here, and there’s a mountain of evidence mounting that brands + entertaining + content is a simple formula for economic growth. It’s on us to believe this time is ours to claim.

The Choice

We don’t need to stop being welcoming or abandon what makes Atlanta attractive – Southern hospitality will always be part of who we are, and it should be. But we need to recognize that the same instinct that makes us great hosts can make us hesitant competitors when the stakes are high. Forbes is declaring branded entertainment the future, brands are building studios, and production budgets are shifting from advertising to original content while infrastructure and incentives are already in place.

Ted Turner built an empire from Atlanta and made the world pay attention. Andre 3000 stood on a stage and declared the South had arrived. And Tyler Perry built a studio that changed the rules.

Three individuals. 

Three different eras. 

Three times Atlanta became something new because someone refused to wait for permission.

But what if the next chapter isn’t written by one person? 

What if it’s written by the brands, agencies, and studios that already call this place home – not as individual trailblazers, but as a collective force that reshapes an entire industry?

We’re already being called “Brandlanta.”

The only question left is: who writes that story?