NEON’s November horror release is building hype by refusing to explain itself. From cryptic trailers and whisper-only influencer reactions to ASMR-style teasers that haunt your headphones, Keeper proves that in horror marketing, ambiguity is the most viral asset.

A trailer that’s more question than answer

When The Monkey ended in select theaters earlier this year, horror fans who stayed in their seats got something unexpected: a hidden trailer for Keeper. There was no announcement, no social upload, no official “drop.” It was smuggled into the post-credits space…a ghostly presence for those lucky enough to see it.

The teaser itself explained nothing. A cabin framed in darkness. A figure glimpsed through fog. Half-heard dialogue that dissolved into silence. It didn’t set up a premise so much as pose a question: what is happening here?

This deliberate vagueness turns the audience into marketers. Instead of reposting an asset, they recount an experience: “I just saw something after The Monkey and I can’t even explain it.”

The mystery forces word of mouth to carry the campaign further than a traditional trailer blast.

Posters that show nothing (and say everything)

Keeper’s key art is one of the starkest poster campaigns in recent horror. Minimal imagery…fog, trees, maybe the faint outline of a roofline…occupies most of the canvas. The dominant element isn’t the title or the faces of the cast, but endorsements: Guillermo del Toro calling it “unnerving,” James Wan labeling it “disturbing.”

By stripping away plot and visuals, the poster becomes something else entirely: a screenshot of credibility. Fans don’t share it because it feels like a seal of approval. Each blurb doubles as a tweet-sized review, a ready-made caption that spreads faster than key art ever could.

The design acknowledges something fundamental: in horror, curiosity beats clarity. A poster that explains nothing gives you no choice but to keep asking questions.

Influencer buzz without spoilers

The most telling part of Keeper’s campaign hasn’t come from NEON directly. It’s come from the influencers and critics who’ve seen early cuts. Their reactions are eerily consistent: “I can’t say much about the film, but it’s good.”

Normally, social buzz after a preview is full of plot hints, favorite scenes, or comparisons to past films. Here, the silence is the story. By asking influencers to withhold detail, NEON turned their vagueness into a signal: if even insiders are spooked into restraint, the rest of us have to buy a ticket to find out.

That restraint makes the campaign buzzier than any spoiler could. Screenshots of those cryptic posts… influencers smirking on camera, text overlays like “all I can say is…wow” spread faster than full reviews. The meta-conversation (“why won’t anyone explain this movie?”) becomes its own campaign.

When the marketing sounds haunted

The scariest part of Keeper’s promo is something you hear. NEON has seeded ASMR-style audio teasers: floorboards creaking, faint whispers, a distant knock. Played through TikTok or Instagram Stories, they feel like intrusions, as if the film is leaking into your personal space.

Unlike a poster or trailer, audio is portable. Fans clip the sounds, remix them, and use them under their own videos. Suddenly, the marketing is everywhere (not because NEON paid for ad placements, but because audiences voluntarily carried the ghost into their feeds.)

Borrowing legacy, building halo (in the director)

Keeper is positioned as a follow-up in tone (if not story) to Perkins’ breakout Longlegs. Coverage of the new film rarely stands alone; almost every headline references his last viral success. That halo effect lowers the cost of attention.

Even when nothing new is being revealed, journalists and influencers package Keeper with Longlegs as a pair: “the director who terrified you this summer is back with something he won’t explain.” It’s the ultimate case of letting a past success do the heavy lifting for a current launch.

For audiences, that link is reassurance: if you liked the last scare, you’ll love this one. For marketers, it’s a reminder that you don’t always need to rebuild awareness from scratch. Sometimes it’s about amplifying echoes.

The value of mystery as media

Most campaigns try to fill the information gap: who, what, when, where. Keeper does the opposite. It leaves the gap intact, and the emptiness becomes the product with:

• A secret teaser you stumble into

• A poster that hides more than it shows

• Influencers forced into vague praise

• Audio that lives in your headphones with no visuals attached

Together, they construct an aura of dread before you’ve bought a ticket. Fans don’t know what they’re walking into, but they do know they’ll be left unsettled. In horror, that’s enough.

Key takeaway: How to package mystery at scale

If NEON wanted to extend this even further, the next step would be to design the mystery so fans can replicate it at home:

• Release the whisper as an official TikTok sound, so creators can script around it.

• Mail “haunted artifacts” (polaroids, scribbled notes, etc.) to influencers for unboxing videos.

• Build micro-cabins in mall atriums where fans hear a voice when they step inside, then scan a QR for tickets.

• Drop POV-style mini-trailers: “You’re alone in the cabin. He hasn’t come back.” Let fans stitch reactions.

Each of these tactics keeps the central principle intact: Keeper isn’t selling answers… it’s selling unease. And you need to tune in.

Movie marketing intel: This week in trends

MARKETING ROLLOUT 🎥 Timothée Chalamet is Redefining the Rollout (GQ)
Chalamet’s campaign for Marty Supreme leans heavily into visual-first storytelling and persona curation: he unveiled a dramatic buzz-cut at a surprise NY film screening, dropped cryptic teaser clips, and tied wardrobe aesthetics to the film’s tone. The campaign blurs the line between artist branding and film promotion. The actor effectively becomes part of the movie narrative and media interest generator.

DATA SCIENCE 🧠 Predicting Movie Success with Multi-Task Learning (arXiv)
Researchers introduce a hybrid model combining GPT-based sentiment analysis with epidemiological (SIR) diffusion modeling to forecast movie performance.
Using 5,840 films over 20 years, the model achieved ~0.964 classification accuracy and MAE ~0.388 in regression tasks, showing promise in detecting how buzz spreads and sentiment drives box office outcomes.