ORIGINAL STORY

Jeremy Latcham’s Grandma Test: What Making DC Movies for Everybody Should Mean

Jeremy Latcham’s question about whether his grandmother would enjoy a superhero movie puts accessibility at the center of the DC Studios conversation. This commentary examines the promise and limits of that approach: clearer character motivations, meaningful consequences, room for unfamiliar viewers, and the danger of confusing broad appeal with stories designed to avoid every disagreement.

Painterly illustration of an older woman and younger adults watching a movie together in a softly lit theater.
Painterly illustration of an older woman and younger adults watching a movie together in a softly lit theater.
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Jeremy Latcham’s test for superhero movies is easy to understand: would his grandmother like it? Variety’s reporting on the new DC Studios boss frames that question as a creative touchstone and quotes his broader ambition: “You have to make them for everybody.” For viewers wondering what that outlook might mean for DC, the central issue is whether accessibility will strengthen the storytelling or become an excuse to smooth away its personality.

My view is that the idea has real value when it asks filmmakers to earn an unfamiliar viewer’s interest. It becomes less useful when one imagined viewer’s preferences are treated as universal. A superhero movie can welcome people who have never opened a comic without making every character agreeable, every conflict comfortable, or every ending reassuring.

This is an analysis of Latcham’s stated filmmaking philosophy, rather than a review of a particular release. His remarks alone do not establish specific changes to DC’s films, ratings, or creative plans.

What the Grandma Test Gets Right

The strongest interpretation of Latcham’s question concerns the audience member who arrives without advance preparation. That person deserves a complete dramatic experience. Knowing a costume, recognizing a supporting character, or remembering a previous installment can enrich a scene, but none should be the price of understanding why it matters.

Consider the difference between identifying a character and understanding one. A film can deliver a name, an affiliation, and an explanation of someone’s abilities while leaving their emotional life obscure. What do they want? Whose judgment frightens them? What would they sacrifice to avoid admitting they were wrong? Those questions give viewers something to follow when the fictional terminology becomes unfamiliar.

Under that interpretation, the grandmother is a useful reminder that a movie must communicate beyond its most committed audience. The test asks whether the film has built an entrance for a newcomer. It does not require the newcomer to appreciate every reference or predict every reveal.

Character Choices Are the Best Route Into a Complicated World

For character-focused criticism, the most productive version of Latcham’s approach begins with decisions. A hero’s powers describe what they can do. Their choices reveal what they believe they should do. The distance between those two things is where a superhero story can become compelling.

As a hypothetical example, imagine a hero who can pursue an escaping enemy or remain behind to help someone injured. The mechanics may involve an elaborate fictional world, but the dilemma is immediately readable. Duty, anger, compassion, and responsibility compete within a single action. The audience can understand the choice before learning the history of the hero’s suit.

Conceptual illustration of a fictional caped hero offering an older woman a helping hand beside spilled groceries on a rainy city sidewalk.
Conceptual illustration of a fictional caped hero offering an older woman a helping hand beside spilled groceries on a rainy city sidewalk.

The same principle applies to supporting characters. A civilian should have a purpose beyond demonstrating the size of a threat. A friend should be able to disagree with the protagonist for a reason that makes sense. A loved one should have needs that persist when the hero leaves the room. Those independent perspectives make a fictional world feel inhabited.

That concern also shapes our character-focused discussion of Tangles: emotional engagement depends on seeing people as individuals, even when a larger premise dominates the conversation. Superhero filmmaking benefits from the same attention to the person inside the story.

Everybody Is an Invitation, Not a Single Audience Type

The word “everybody” deserves scrutiny. Grandparents do not share one taste in movies, any more than teenagers or comic readers do. Some enjoy frightening stories, some appreciate unresolved moral questions, and some want a sharp joke more than a comforting message. Age cannot reliably stand in for a preferred tone.

There is also a meaningful distinction between understanding a film and liking it. A viewer can follow a protagonist’s motives perfectly and still reject the protagonist’s decision. That disagreement may be evidence of successful drama. The movie has made its conflict clear enough for the audience to take a position.

My concern would be any interpretation of broad appeal that removes the possibility of friction. A character who never risks disapproval has fewer opportunities to surprise us. A story that anticipates and softens every objection can lose the tension that makes its eventual reconciliation or triumph satisfying.

Latcham’s remark is therefore most promising as a question asked during storytelling, rather than an answer imposed on every project. Can an unfamiliar viewer engage with this scene? That is a useful challenge. Must every viewer approve of this scene? That is a much narrower creative demand.

Clarity Should Shape the Action, Too

Accessibility involves visual storytelling as much as dialogue. An action sequence becomes more involving when viewers understand the immediate objective, the obstacle, and the cost of failure. Elaborate effects can supply scale, but scale alone cannot explain why a particular movement or decision matters.

A useful critical test is to ask what changes during the sequence. Does the hero lose an advantage? Does an ally make a costly choice? Does protecting one person create danger elsewhere? These developments allow action to express character instead of briefly suspending it.

Clear stakes also leave room for surprise. Viewers do not need a detailed explanation of every device or ability. They need enough information to recognize when the situation improves, deteriorates, or forces someone to reconsider a plan. Mystery can remain intact while the emotional direction stays legible.

How to Judge Whether the Philosophy Works

Latching onto an executive’s memorable phrase is easier than evaluating the finished films. For audiences, the more useful approach is to watch for specific results:

  • Motivation: Can you explain what the central character wants without reciting franchise history?
  • Relationships: Do supporting characters affect decisions through their own desires and convictions?
  • Consequences: Do mistakes change relationships or circumstances beyond the next action scene?
  • Resolution: Does the ending address this film’s central conflict, even if further adventures remain possible?

These questions distinguish a storytelling ambition from a marketing promise. Broad audience language does not itself demonstrate artistic success, just as enthusiasm surrounding a release does not automatically establish financial security. Our analysis of theatrical breakouts and industry confidence explores that separate question of how much larger conclusions can reasonably rest on encouraging signals.

The Deeper Question Is Who Gets to Feel Included

At its most compelling, Latcham’s grandma test asks filmmakers to imagine someone beyond the audience they already know how to reach. That act of imagination could encourage greater patience with characters, more expressive action, and stories whose emotional meaning survives without advance knowledge.

The standard should still be demanding. Welcoming a wider audience requires giving people something substantial to encounter: a difficult decision, a distinctive point of view, a relationship that changes under pressure. Familiar emotions can support strange worlds and challenging ideas.

For DC, the most valuable interpretation of making movies for everybody would be to give more people a reason to care while preserving reasons to argue afterward. A grandmother, a longtime fan, and a first-time viewer might leave with different judgments about the hero. If each understands what the hero chose and why it mattered, the film has created a conversation worth having.

Original content by this site's editorial team. Published: November 11, 2026 at 04:08:06 PST (Los Angeles time)