Borderlands, UK OOH campaign, digital ads & Adlift Takeover
Client: Lionsgate
Role: Account Manager, copy & creative partner
Deliverables: National OOH campaign strategy, creative copywriting, adlift executions, cast-led messaging
The Brief
Some campaigns are like a neat gin and tonic. This campaign was like licking a battery while skydiving through a rave.
We were asked to help launch Borderlands in the UK: a film with the energy of a Red Bull-fuelled fever dream, the aesthetic of a violent Crayola pack, and a fanbase that would absolutely correct you on lore mid-sentence.
The Borderlands film brought the chaos of Pandora to UK streets, and it was our job to help land it like a loot drop.
Borderlands was a wild card. With a cult fanbase, a notoriously chaotic tone, and a star-studded cast (Cate Blanchett! Jack Black! Kevin Hart!), the pressure was on to make the UK rollout feel both accessible and anarchic.
But… we also knew the film wasn’t going to be a critics' darling. So our brief became clear: lean into what would land, the cast, the colour, the energy, and the sheer ridiculousness of it all.
Where the US campaign leaned darker and grittier, we took a different route for the UK, brighter palettes, bigger jokes, and positioning that leaned into fun over lore. We weren’t so much selling a gaming franchise, more like a fun experience fans could interact with IRL.
Lionsgate briefed us on a UK-wide OOH push to introduce the movie’s colourful ensemble cast, balancing the high-octane humour of the game with the A-list personality of the film. The goal? Make Borderlands unmissable, unforgettable, and completely unhinged—especially in the vertical space.
Strategy & Collaboration
I worked directly with the Lionsgate UK marketing team across every phase of the campaign, from pitch and concept to final sign-off.
We aligned early on a key insight, the US tone wouldn’t translate. It was too heavy, too flat. UK audiences needed more life, more irreverence, more Borderlands.
Together, we made three pivotal shifts:
We amped up the colour. We changed the whole keyart. Our Adlift interiors used vivid gradients and bold character portraits to transform each space into a living poster. Not just an ad, a portal to Pandora.
We focused on cast first, canon second. Recognisable faces were front and centre. Characters could be loud, weird, or barely explained because the poster wasn’t the movie. It was the invitation.
We localised the copy. We ditched clunky localisation in favour of UK wit, game-referential tone, and lines that could speak to a general audience, not just die-hard fans. Lines like “Push the button. If you dare.” gave the lifts stakes, without requiring a Wikipedia-level understanding of the lore.
It wasn’t about faking hype. It was about building a campaign that knew the film’s flaws but leaned confidently into its strengths: cast, chaos, and over-the-top spectacle.
The Concept
Channel 4 AdPause
Oh, I LOVE an adpause. I purposefully pause on Channel 4 to see how brands handle the placement.
An AdPause is a static branded ad that appears when a viewer pauses a show or film on a streaming platform. Instead of leaving the screen idle, it uses that brief moment of stillness to deliver targeted, often contextual advertising, usually it’s a witty line, a product promo, or a nudge to continue watching. It’s not disruptive, just opportunistic, a clever way to hijack passive attention without breaking the flow.
When Lionsgate asked us to come up with ideas for a custom AdPause for Channel 4’s streaming platform, I was so excited to turn a mundane viewer pause into a branded moment of chaos. The brief was to make the pause button feel dangerous. So we treated it like a tripwire.
A great AdPause:
Acknowledges time without overexplaining it
Stays in-world, but winks at platform behaviour
Builds tone in one breath: character, world, tension
Never sounds like an ad, sounds like the film continuing without you
So we started by treating the pause like a narrative glitch, something the characters noticed and the world reacted to. That opened the door to something more playful: what if the film kept going without you? What if pausing felt like betrayal? Or cowardice? Or just wildly inconvenient for the world you'd left mid-crisis?
From there, we ran tonal tests, lines from different characters, group reactions, alternate realities. Each one had to feel like it came from inside the universe, not from a marketing layer pasted on top.
Some of the best lines came out of asking - what would the team do if you walked away mid-battle?
Answer: Argue. Yell. Mess it up. Leave passive-aggressive notes.
I wrote 50+ lines across multiple voices: group dynamics, character POVs, world logic, meta commentary. Then refined to what played best when seen alone, on screen, with zero context.
It became about writing little moments of tonal continuity about Borderlands as it’s own personality. Who will keep talking even when you walk away.
Each line was written in-world, in-character, and timed to trigger when viewers hit pause, transforming dead air into entertainment.
My intentions were to:
Establish brand tone in a moment of stillness
Disrupt passive behaviour by meeting the viewer in an unexpected moment
Turn dead time into brand time
Build character and world using humour, voice, or narrative friction
Promote the theatrical release in a way that feels seamless
Reward attention with something that feels written, clever, and in-universe
Create memorability in a space most films ignore
Here’s some of the copy I dabbled with, split by character. Here’s some of the copy I dabbled with, split by character. We always knew the final ad would feature a group moment, but exploring individual voices helped refine the tone, test the edges of the brand personality, and sharpen how each line might land in isolation. It was a stress-test for the world. If a pause line could sound right in Lilith’s voice and wrong in Claptrap’s, I knew I was close.
GROUP
We’ll just stand here, then.
This better be a life-or-death snack.
So… uh…you’ve been gone for five seconds and we’ve already lost the map.
We agreed not to touch anything until you got back. We lied.
We tried unpausing without you. We made it weird.
Cool. Paused mid-sentence. Real power move.
Silence. That’s new.
Nice break. You’re respawning in 3... 2...
Paused? Try “committing.” It’s free.
You paused right before the twist. Classic.
This is exactly how we lost the last guy.
We used the break to make everything worse.
We’re not waiting for you. Just arguing louder.
The galaxy’s ending. But sure, take your time.
Paused? Cool. That gives the psychos more time to catch up.
New Side Mission Unlocked: UNPAUSE
Vault Code Error: Pause detected. Rebooting havoc.
Pausing won’t save your loot from Bandits.
We took a vote. The pause was not approved.
This pause message will self-destruct in 3...2...1…
Pause at Your Own Risk
The galaxy’s ending and you’re taking five?
You paused right before the best bit. Amateur.
You paused. So we’ll just keep killing things until you’re back.
Things were just getting good.
In Pandora, pausing is how you die slower.
CLAPTRAP
I filled the silence with interpretive dance. You’re welcome.
When you pause, I improv. And I’m very bad at it.
Vault Code Error: Pause detected. Rebooting havoc.
Claptrap’s Pause Support Hotline
Claptrap is dancing because you paused. Again.
That pause was unnecessary.
The robots need a moment.
TINY TINA
I baked you a "pause pie." It explodes.
PAUSE PARTY. You bring the cake, I’ll bring the dynamite.
If you’re still paused in 10 seconds, I summon the bunny lords.
MOXXI
Sugar, I don’t usually get left on read.
Pause again and I’ll start charging rent.
You paused. You tease.
Pause me again, sugar, and I’ll charge you double.
LILITH
Paused? I’ll be over here… saving the universe.
You blink, I fight. You pause, I still fight.
This moment says a lot about your priorities.
High risk. Higher volume. Lower morals. Welcome to Pandora.
In Pandora, pause means you get shot twice.TANNIS
TANNIS
You paused? Fascinating. I'm adding this to my research.
Your pause pattern aligns with cases of mild cowardice. Noted.
If you resume in the next 10 seconds, I’ll pretend not to judge you.
Elevators
We wrote from the characters' POVs, studying the game’s tone and the film’s trailers until we, too, felt slightly unstable.
We transformed everyday elevators into character moments, from the doors to the floors to the inside walls, each zone built around a borderline ridiculous, totally in-universe piece of copy. The aim was to reward attention, drive social engagement, and use the mechanics of the lift itself as part of the joke.
I partnered with the creative team not just on approvals, but on ideation, tone mapping, and linewriting. With Borderlands, the tone is everything: hyper-self-aware, bold, snarky, and obsessed with survivalist absurdity.
We studied the game’s language style, dissected the film’s script tone, and mapped out lines per character to match visual placements across lift interiors and exteriors.
Key Lines Included:
“Teleporting to the next floor? Let’s go.”
“Push the button. If you dare.”
“Reach the top. Whatever it takes.”
“Chaos loves company.” (Floor vinyl, film tagline)
Each line was tailored to character reveals—Claptrap’s hyper-enthusiasm, Lilith’s dry command, Krieg’s mania, and Tannis’s deadpan threat. Copy became a vehicle for character immersion, giving fans context clues even if they didn’t know the franchise, and rewarding those who did.
A few more lines that didn’t quite make the cut:
Roland (the dead-serious ex-soldier)
Mission: Ascend. Objective: Survive the lift.
This isn’t a ride. It’s a tactical deployment.
Fall in. Floor up.
Stay sharp. Enemies move faster in confined spaces.
Never trust a lift without bullet holes.
Vertical movement initiated. Pray it’s not monitored.
Next stop: glory. Or lunch. Depends who pushed the button.
Mission briefing: Get in. Go up. Don’t scream.
Lilith (the Siren, confident and cool)
Going up? I’ll phasewalk, you take the lift.
Step in. Light up. Ascend with attitude.
Teleporting… stylishly.
You can’t phasewalk out of this one.
Ascend with grace. Or scream—either works.
Step in. Disappear. No one asks questions.
The higher you go, the louder the ghosts.
Claptrap (Jack Blacks obnoxiously helpful robot)
Pushing the button! Initiating maximum enthusiasm!
Initiating fun! (Also motion.)
If you die in the lift, can I have your loot?
Floor 3? I don’t even have legs!
Congratulations, you’ve entered the elevator of excellence!
Please enjoy this completely safe and definitely not cursed ride.
Fun fact: 87% of lifts don’t come back down.
You look nervous. Is it the blood? Or the screaming gears?
This is your last chance to turn around. Or do a cool dance.
Tiny Tina (chaotic gremlin child with explosives)
Welcome to the Boom Box! Hope your legs tingle!
This lift is now a PARTY BOMB. Buckle up.
No refunds if it explodes halfway!
Going up! Hope you brought snacks and trauma!
*We’re not stuck. We’re dramatically pausing.
Lift? Nah. That’s my surprise detonation chamber.
Hope this elevator’s fireproof. Or not. Heehee.
Going up! Hope you brought your last words.
Press the wrong button and I press back.
Krieg (psychotic melee brute with poetic duality)
EVERY BUTTON IS THE FUN BUTTON IF YOU PUSH HARD ENOUGH!
SCREAMING INTO THE SKY! Or floor 5.
Button? I BITE the button!
What goes up must bleed eventually.
Take the lift. Leave the sanity.
WE ASCEND. THEN WE BLEED.
THIS ISN’T A LIFT. IT’S A VERTICAL SLAUGHTER TUBE.
PRESS THE BUTTON. HE DARES YOU.
SOME STAIRS YOU CLIMB. SOME STAIRS CLIMB YOU.
Patricia Tannis (brilliantly insane scientist)
Elevator movement confirmed. Possibly a hallucination.
Gravity is fake. This lift is real. I think.
I installed a teleportation stabiliser. It didn’t stabilise anything.
Going up? Trust me, I’ve done worse experiments.
This elevator is clinically unstable. Just like me.
Elevator trajectory… unpredictable. Ideal.
I built this lift from bad science and worse decisions.
Probability of safe arrival: statistically irrelevant.
Atlas Corporation (sleek, corporate overlords)
Sponsored by Atlas. Because capitalism never sleeps.
Efficiency. Precision. Elevation.
Congratulations. You’ve unlocked Vertical Mode™.
No stairs. Just vertical ROI.
Atlas recommends always looking up. And buying more guns.
Execution Highlights
Full lift bank domination. Exterior and interior creative took over entire banks of lifts, delivering character-driven storytelling across moving doors, button panels, and mirrored corners.
In-world language meets real-world motion. The physicality of the lifts (“go up,” “push,” “button,” “doors closing”) synced beautifully with in-universe tech metaphors like teleportation, resurrection, or power-up mechanics.
Manchester roll-out. Flagship execution with full character spread, highly shareable and built for visual impact.
Birmingham Bullring support. Static takeovers complementing main messaging.
London buses, full colourful takeover designed by my team.
UK wide OOH, simple localised OOH activations throughout the UK.
The Result
The lifts didn’t just move people, they made people feel moved. Okay, mildly threatened.
Fans stepped in expecting transport but they got a galactic scale Borderlands brain melt.
We planted in jokes like mines and caused a couple of mild headaches from the colours, but Lionsgate were left happy, because even those who’d never picked up a controller knew exactly what this film felt like by the time the doors shut.
The whole thing was stupid. Loud. Ridiculous. Perfectly on brand.
Because when the movie might not win critics... You have to win over the fans.
And when the franchise is built on personality, you better make that lift talk.
This wasn’t just where brand meets space, it was character meets motion. I helped bring a major title into real-world humour and physical engagement, crafting lines that didn’t just stick, but moved.