The simple filter that could fix Hollywood.
Hollywood has a billion dollar question it cannot seem to answer. How do you make a movie that people actually want to see? Studios spend fortunes on focus groups and algorithms trying to solve a puzzle that gets more expensive every year. The answer might be simpler than any executive thinks. In fact, it might just be a phone call away.
Meet Jeremy Latcham. If you loved the Marvel Cinematic Universe in its prime, you know his work. He was an executive producer on blockbusters like The Avengers and Guardians of the Galaxy. He also helped bring the surprisingly fun Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves to the screen. Now, he’s one of the top creative executives at DC Studios, tasked with helping James Gunn and Peter Safran build a new universe of heroes. And he has a secret weapon that Hollywood discarded years ago: his grandma.
According to director Scott Derrickson, who worked with Latcham at Marvel, the producer has a simple filter for every project. He calls it the “grandma test.” The test has two parts. First, can he explain the plot of the movie to his grandma over the phone in a way she understands? Second, after hearing the explanation, would she even want to see it? If the answer to either question is no, the movie has a problem. It’s a brilliantly simple gut check against the kind of tangled storylines and cynical plots that have taken over the multiplex.
For years, franchise filmmaking has become a homework assignment. Studios demand that audiences watch a dozen movies and five streaming shows just to understand the plot of the latest sequel. Heroes have become sarcastic, broken, and apologetic for their own existence. The stories are often dark, confusing, and so wrapped up in their own lore that they forget to tell a human story. Hollywood stopped inviting everyone to the party and then wondered why the room felt empty. They made movies for the internet, not for families. They made content for critics, not for communities.
The most radical idea in superhero movies right now is making a hero. A real one. Someone who stands for something, fights for the innocent, and believes in the good. The grandma test is not about making movies that are dumbed down. It is about making movies with a clear moral center. It favors stories with heart over stories with homework. It insists that a film should work on its own terms, accessible to anyone who buys a ticket, from a teenager on a first date to, yes, a grandmother on a Sunday afternoon.
It should not be surprising that this back to basics approach comes from a creator who is open about his own foundation. Latcham, a professing Christian, has spoken publicly about how his faith informs his understanding of story. In a conversation on Biola University's “Think Biblically” podcast, he talked about the power of myth and the central importance of sacrifice. He understands that the greatest stories tap into timeless truths. These are themes of good versus evil, light versus darkness, and the hero who lays down his life for others. This is the stuff that has powered great stories for thousands of years, from the Bible to the blockbusters Latcham himself produced.
This is not a call for DC to start making “faith based films.” It is a recognition that a biblical worldview gives a creator a profound advantage. It provides a framework for understanding what makes a hero heroic and what makes a story resonate across generations. When you believe in ultimate truth, you are not afraid to put characters on screen who do the same. When you believe in the reality of evil, you can create villains who are genuinely threatening, not just misunderstood. And when you believe in redemption, you can tell stories of hope that feel earned, not cheap.
After years of creative turbulence, DC is searching for a clear identity. The studio has swung wildly from the grim deconstruction of Superman to the quippy adventures of Shazam. A simple, powerful filter like the grandma test might be the very thing that brings it all into focus. It is a unifying principle that puts the audience first. It is a promise that the next movie you see will have a story worth your time, a hero worth rooting for, and a message you can talk about with your family on the ride home.
That is not just a good strategy for DC. It is a roadmap for the rest of Hollywood. The audience never went anywhere. They are just waiting for an invitation to come back to the movies. Jeremy Latcham’s beautifully simple idea is that invitation. It is a reminder that the best stories are not the most complicated, but the most true, and that the biggest audience is waiting for a hero to believe in again. The future of entertainment might just depend on whether anyone else in Hollywood decides to pick up the phone.
