Summary:
We’ve all watched The Game Awards and felt that familiar rhythm: trophies, speeches, then a trailer that makes your group chat explode. What a lot of people don’t think about in the moment is that those trailers are not just “cool moments” floating in from the heavens. They’re often premium real estate. Kotaku reported, based on sources familiar with the show, that a 60-second trailer during The Game Awards 2025 can cost up to $450,000, while a three-minute slot can cost over $1 million. That’s the kind of number that makes you blink, laugh, then blink again to make sure you read it right.
In we, we put those reported prices in plain terms. We talk about why the show can charge that much, why some studios still pay it anyway, and how the idea of “free” placements fits into the picture. We also widen the lens to the practical reality around the event itself, including what it can cost just to show up when you’re nominated, and why that can sting for smaller teams. Then we flip it around: if you’re not a mega publisher with a marketing budget that looks like phone numbers, what can you do instead? We lay out smarter paths that don’t rely on buying the biggest slot in the room, while still giving you a real shot at being seen.
The headline numbers Kotaku reported
Let’s start with the part everyone is quoting because it’s wild in the most predictable way possible. Kotaku reported that, according to sources familiar with The Game Awards 2025, a 60-second trailer during the ceremony can cost up to $450,000, and a three-minute trailer can cost over $1 million. The same report also says the pricing “keeps going up,” and that separate sources in publishing felt those figures sounded in line with what they’d expect based on prior years. That’s important, because it frames these numbers as part of a bigger pattern, not a one-time “someone fat-fingered a spreadsheet” moment. And yes, the report also points out a pressure valve: there are some placements that can be free, especially when the organizer, Geoff Keighley, wants to champion a smaller game or lock in a major surprise.
Why a trailer slot is treated like prime real estate
Those price tags make more sense when you treat The Game Awards like what it has become: a massive stage where attention is the currency and timing is the weapon. When you get millions of viewers watching the same stream at the same time, you’re not buying “a video.” You’re buying a moment that people react to together, instantly, on every platform where hype can spread. That kind of synchronized attention is rare now, especially in a world where discovery is usually chopped up by algorithms and time zones. So the slot isn’t just a slot. It’s closer to getting your game placed on the front page of the internet for a minute, except the front page is screaming and throwing popcorn. And because it’s live, the reaction happens in real time, which can turn one reveal into a week of headlines if it lands.
The audience math publishers care about
Publishers are basically doing napkin math with very expensive pens. If your trailer hits at the right time, it can spike wishlists, drive preorders, pull people into a beta, or simply plant your name in the heads of players who weren’t even thinking about you that morning. That’s why the conversation always circles back to reach, momentum, and conversion. People also talk about how big The Game Awards audience has become in recent years, and that scale is part of the sales pitch for charging premium rates. Even if not everyone watching is your target player, the show is one of the few places where mainstream attention and core gamer attention overlap. In other words, you’re paying to stand in the doorway where a ton of different crowds walk past, and you’re hoping your trailer is the thing that makes them stop and look.
The production side, not just the air time
It’s tempting to think, “It’s a YouTube video, how can it cost that much?” But the slot price and the trailer cost are different beasts that stack on top of each other. A polished trailer might involve capture teams, editors, VO, music licensing, localization, approvals, and multiple versions to fit different formats. Then you add the reality that many studios build trailers specifically for this kind of stage, which means higher standards and more internal scrutiny. The slot fee is basically the toll to drive your shiny trailer onto the biggest highway at rush hour. If you’re a publisher, you’re also weighing opportunity cost: if you skip the show, where does that money go instead, and will it actually move the needle as hard as a prime-time reveal in front of a massive live audience?
Why timing inside the show matters
Not every minute of the show feels the same. Early reveals can set the tone, mid-show slots can ride momentum, and late slots can hit when people are fully locked in and hunting for “one more thing.” Viewers also come in waves: some people show up for the opening rush, some drift in after hearing there’s a surprise, and others only tune in when social media starts yelling. That’s why “a trailer at The Game Awards” isn’t one uniform product, even if the trailer length is the same. Timing influences reaction, reaction influences sharing, and sharing is where a reveal stops being a trailer and turns into a cultural moment. If you’re paying for a slot, you’re trying to buy the version of the audience that is most awake, most online, and most likely to spread the word like it’s their job.
“Free” slots and what they really mean
The word “free” can sound like a fairy tale in a world where everything has a rate card, but it shows up in the reporting for a reason. Kotaku’s report says some slots are reserved for the biggest surprises and that Geoff Keighley curates free slots for things he personally wants to champion. That creates a two-track system: one track is paid placements that follow the money, and the other is curated placements that follow the show’s editorial instincts and relationships. From a viewer perspective, it can look like a pure meritocracy where “the best stuff” gets featured. From an industry perspective, it’s more like a mixture of paid advertising, strategic partnerships, and a smaller slice of genuine spotlighting that can be career-changing for the right game.
Geoff Keighley’s curation lane
When a show has an organizer who also acts as a curator, that person’s taste and priorities become part of the ecosystem. If you’re a smaller team, the dream scenario is simple: your game catches the organizer’s eye, and you get a slot you could never afford. That’s the upside, and it’s real. The downside is that it can feel opaque. Who gets championed, and why? Is it purely about quality, or also about what fits the show’s pacing, genre variety, and “wow” factor? Even if everything is well-intentioned, the result can still feel like a velvet rope. You might have an amazing game, but if it doesn’t fit the show’s vibe, it may not get that free lift, and you’re not exactly going to casually drop a million dollars to force the issue.
Earned placement versus paid placement
There’s also a middle ground where placement is “earned” in the sense that it’s strategically valuable to the show. A world premiere from a massive franchise can draw viewers, which benefits everyone watching and everyone else featured. So a publisher might not pay the same way a smaller marketing beat would, because the publisher is bringing something the show wants badly. That doesn’t mean money never changes hands, and it doesn’t mean the business side disappears. It just means leverage matters. If you’re holding a trailer that can spike viewership, you’re negotiating from a different position than someone who simply wants exposure. This is where the ecosystem starts to look less like a simple ad buy and more like a marketplace of attention, favors, and mutual benefit.
Tickets, travel, and the awkward reality for nominees
One of the sharpest ironies in the reporting is that the show is meant to celebrate developers, yet even being nominated doesn’t automatically make attending easy. Kotaku’s report goes into how attendance works and how the costs can pile up fast, especially for smaller teams. Travel to Los Angeles, hotels, food, time away from work, and the general chaos of getting a group of people across the world is already a lot. Then you add the emotional side: if your team made something special, of course people want to be in the room when it’s honored. That moment is a career highlight. It’s also, apparently, something many teams have to budget for like it’s a mini production of its own.
The two-ticket problem
Kotaku reported that nominated studios are often offered only two tickets to attend the ceremony, based on multiple developers they spoke to, and that additional tickets may need to be purchased through the same public ticket pool as fans. That creates a weird situation where the people who made the nominated game can end up scattered, priced out, or simply unable to attend together. Kotaku’s reporting also mentions examples of teams buying more tickets at face value so more people could be there, and it highlights how resale pricing can climb. Even if you ignore the trailer slot costs entirely, attendance alone can turn into a serious expense. It’s the kind of thing that makes you think, “Wait, aren’t the nominees supposed to be the guests of honor here?”
Why being nominated can still feel expensive
There’s a human tension here that’s hard to ignore. A nomination can boost a studio’s visibility, help hiring, and support future funding, but it doesn’t magically hand you spare cash. If your studio is small, your margins might already be thin, and the industry has been dealing with layoffs and instability. So the decision to attend can feel like choosing between celebration and practicality. People outside game development sometimes imagine studios as money factories, but many teams are just trying to ship the game and survive the next quarter. When you hear stories of developers paying out of pocket to be there, it adds a bittersweet edge to the whole spectacle. The trophy shines, but the bill still shows up.
How big publishers justify a million-dollar splash
Now let’s flip to the other side of the mountain of money. For major publishers, spending big on a premium reveal can be rational, even if it sounds absurd to normal humans who pay for groceries. Marketing budgets for blockbuster games can be enormous, and the reveal moment is often treated like a launch event within the launch event. If you believe a well-placed trailer can shift momentum, then a million dollars becomes a line item you argue about in a meeting, not a number that makes you faint. That doesn’t mean it’s always wise, and it doesn’t mean it always works. But it does mean the sticker shock is relative. What feels like a fortune to one studio can feel like a calculated gamble to another.
Launch windows and wishlists
If your game is close to release, a big stage can convert attention into action fast. People see the trailer, click to wishlist, tell a friend, and suddenly your game is trending on storefronts and social feeds. That timing matters because storefront algorithms often respond to bursts of interest. A prime reveal can also clarify a release date, show gameplay that answers doubts, or reframe a project that previously felt vague. In that sense, the trailer isn’t just an ad. It’s a moment of definition. Publishers love moments of definition because they reduce uncertainty for buyers. If someone was on the fence, a strong trailer at the right time can push them into “Okay, I’m in.”
Brand safety and audience fit
There’s also a perception factor. The Game Awards has become a mainstream entertainment event, not just a niche stream for hardcore fans. Being present signals scale. It tells the market, “We belong in the biggest room.” For certain franchises, that matters as much as the direct sales lift. It’s branding, positioning, and expectation-setting. And if you’re launching something that needs to feel premium, polished, and culturally relevant, a high-profile slot helps reinforce that narrative. It’s like showing up to a red carpet event in a rented suit that still fits perfectly. People might not know it’s rented, and the impression is part of the point.
What smaller teams can do instead of paying the sticker price
If you’re reading those reported prices and thinking, “Cool, so we just sell a kidney,” you’re not alone. The good news is that paying for a top-tier slot is not the only way to build momentum, and it’s not always the best way even when you can afford it. Smaller teams usually win by being sharper, not louder. That means picking moments where you can actually stand out, talking directly to the communities that care, and making it easy for players to try or follow your game right away. The big show is one path, but it’s a crowded path. Sometimes the smarter move is choosing a stage where your game doesn’t have to compete with thirty other fireworks displays happening in the same night.
Targeted showcases and platform spotlights
One practical alternative is going where your audience already shops. Platform showcases, genre-focused streams, and curated indie spotlights can deliver a more concentrated audience that’s primed to act. You might not get the same raw view count as The Game Awards, but you often get better alignment. And alignment is everything. Ten people who are genuinely excited and ready to wishlist are worth more than a hundred people who just want to see the next blockbuster. Smaller teams also benefit from clearer messaging in these spaces. You can explain what the game is without being crushed by the pace of a giant awards show where every reveal is fighting for oxygen.
Community-first beats and playable demos
Players trust experience more than promises. A demo, a playtest, or a strong creator-led preview can build credibility in a way a flashy trailer sometimes can’t. Community-first momentum also lasts longer, because it’s built through conversation rather than a single spike of hype. If you can get the right streamers, journalists, or genre communities genuinely excited, you’re building a foundation that survives after the show ends. Think of it like lighting a campfire instead of setting off a firework. The firework is bright, loud, and gone. The campfire is smaller, but it keeps people warm for hours, and they’ll actually stick around for it.
What fans actually get out of the pay-to-play machine
From the couch, it’s easy to feel cynical about the business side, but it’s also easy to understand why the format works. Fans want surprises, trailers, and that electric feeling of “Wait, what was that?” The Game Awards has trained the audience to expect reveals, and the audience shows up because it reliably delivers that rush. The reported pricing simply puts a dollar sign on something viewers already sensed: reveals are a major part of why people tune in. If you love games, it’s hard not to enjoy a night where the future of the medium gets paraded across the screen like a highlight reel from tomorrow.
The reveal dopamine loop
There’s a reason people live-react to this show like it’s a sporting event. A great reveal creates instant emotion: hype, curiosity, nostalgia, shock, or even confusion that turns into memes. That reaction is part of the entertainment product, and it’s also part of the marketing value. When a trailer hits, viewers clip it, quote it, argue about it, and spread it. The show benefits because those moments keep the stream culturally relevant. Publishers benefit because the audience does the distribution work for them. And fans benefit because, honestly, it’s fun. It’s a shared moment in a hobby that often feels fragmented across platforms and time zones.
The downside: pacing and ad fatigue
The tradeoff is that the show can feel like it’s constantly shifting gears. If you’re there for awards, you might feel like the trophies are fighting for time against the reveal machine. If you’re there for reveals, you might feel impatient during speeches. That tension is baked into the format, and it gets sharper as trailer slots become more valuable. When money is attached to minutes, minutes become precious, and the pacing becomes a business decision as much as a creative one. Fans can sense that. You can feel when a show is balancing celebration and promotion, and depending on your mood, that can be either thrilling or exhausting.
What this says about the business of game marketing right now
These reported prices are not just trivia. They’re a signal that the industry has consolidated attention around a few mega moments. When E3 faded and the calendar fractured into many smaller showcases, the “big nights” that remained gained more power. The Game Awards is one of those nights. It’s a global attention magnet, and magnets get to charge rent. If you’re a publisher, the temptation is obvious: show up where the world is already looking. If you’re a smaller team, the challenge is also obvious: how do you get noticed when the biggest stages are priced like luxury real estate?
E3’s shadow and the rise of tentpole streams
What we’re seeing is a shift from trade show marketing to broadcast moment marketing. Instead of one huge industry expo controlling the conversation, we now have a few tentpole streams that dominate public attention, surrounded by a long tail of smaller events. That’s not automatically worse, but it changes the strategy. It favors teams that can either pay for the big moments or earn their way into them through relationships, timing, and a game that fits the show’s needs. And it pushes everyone else to get smarter about targeting, community building, and pacing their announcements so they don’t get swallowed by the noise.
What to watch for when the lights go on
If you want to “see” the business side while still enjoying the show, watch the flow. Notice how reveals are placed, how long they run, and how often the tone shifts. Big, polished trailers often sit in prime positions for a reason. Smaller, punchier trailers might appear in faster sequences where the goal is to keep energy high. And if you notice a smaller game getting a standout moment, that’s worth paying attention to, because it may be one of those curated placements that Kotaku described. In other words, the show is entertainment, but it’s also a map of power and priorities, drawn in real time with music cues and applause.
Reading between the slots
Here’s a simple way to think about it: every minute of the show is either being used to honor something, sell something, or build the brand of the show itself. Often it’s doing two of those at once. When you see a long trailer, you’re seeing a bet that the audience will stay engaged and that the reveal will ripple outward. When you see a quick montage, you’re seeing a bet that variety keeps people watching. When you see an unexpected spotlight on a smaller game, you’re seeing the show’s attempt to balance the scales, at least a little. It’s not about ruining the magic. It’s about understanding why the magic is staged the way it is, and why those reported prices can exist in the first place.
Conclusion
The reported trailer pricing at The Game Awards 2025 sounds shocking because it is shocking, but it also fits the logic of a world where attention is scarce and synchronized global moments are rare. Kotaku’s report puts hard numbers on something fans already felt: reveals are a core product of the night, and premium placement comes at a premium price. The same reporting also makes space for a softer truth, which is that not every game gets featured because it paid. Some placements are curated, some are earned through leverage, and some are simply part of the show’s attempt to keep the night feeling exciting and varied. If you’re a big publisher, you’re weighing cost against momentum. If you’re a smaller team, you’re weighing dreams against reality, and you’re probably looking for smarter paths that don’t require a million-dollar coin toss. Either way, understanding the business side doesn’t ruin the fun. It just explains why the fun looks the way it does.
FAQs
- Did Kotaku report specific prices for trailer slots at The Game Awards 2025?
- Yes. Kotaku reported that sources familiar with the show said a 60-second trailer can cost up to $450,000 and a three-minute trailer can cost over $1 million.
- Are there any ways to get featured without paying those reported rates?
- According to the same reporting, some placements can be free, including curated slots that Geoff Keighley chooses to spotlight, along with other situations where the show reserves space for major surprises.
- Why would any publisher pay over $1 million for a three-minute trailer?
- For large publishers, the bet is that a prime reveal can drive wishlists, preorders, brand momentum, and sustained conversation across social media, storefronts, and press coverage.
- Does being nominated guarantee that a whole team can attend the ceremony easily?
- Not necessarily. Kotaku reported that nominated studios are often offered limited tickets, and additional attendance can involve public ticketing and travel costs that add up quickly.
- What can smaller studios do if a premium slot is out of reach?
- Smaller teams often get better results by focusing on targeted showcases, platform spotlights, community-driven marketing, and playable demos that convert interest into action without relying on one massive paid moment.
Sources
- Some Nominated Devs Can’t Even Afford To Be A Part Of The Game Awards, Kotaku, December 10, 2025
- Here’s How Much It Could Cost To Show A Game At The Game Awards, GameSpot, December 11, 2025
- Report: The Game Awards trailers can cost devs up to $1 million, Game Developer, December 11, 2025
- A Trailer At The Game Awards Costs Developers Up to $1 Million, Says New Report, Insider Gaming, December 10, 2025
- The Game Awards 2025: When and How to Watch the Live Event, People, December 11, 2025
