Summer blockbuster season is almost over. For the past few months, studios have rolled out their biggest bets of the year: familiar franchises, massive budgets, and movies built to fill as many seats as possible.

But what actually makes a movie connect on that scale?

It may have less to do with how big a film looks than what’s underneath it. The movies audiences remember tend to give us someone to root for and choices that actually mean something. They ask what’s worth fighting for, what’s worth giving up, and whether people can really change.

That’s where ideas like sacrifice and redemption come in. So does the belief that good and evil are not interchangeable, and that what a character chooses carries consequences.

Those ideas are much older than Hollywood. The rules of story may point back to an even Greater Story.

Before summer officially winds down, we’re taking one last look at what makes a blockbuster more than its box office and why some stories truly connect.

Five movies in, Pixar is still finding new ways to make a story about toys feel surprisingly human. Toy Story 5 puts more of the spotlight on Jessie while asking what play, friendship, and belonging look like in a world increasingly shaped by screens. That emotional core helped make it one of the year’s biggest movies, crossing $1.1 billion worldwide. It’s a timely update to a familiar franchise, but the heart of it is classic Toy Story: figuring out where you fit when the world around you starts to change.

WHERE TO WATCH →

Spider-Man: Brand New Day became the biggest movie of 2026 with more than $2.3 billion worldwide, but Movieguide found something more interesting beneath the superhero action. Peter Parker risks his life to save another person and turns an enemy away from vengeance, leading the outlet to describe him as a Christ-like figure in a story shaped by sacrifice and redemption. There is a caveat, though: for all those positive themes, the language is hard to ignore. There’s plenty of profanity, including blasphemy, so it’s worth knowing that going in.

WHERE TO WATCH →

For nearly four decades, Ted Baehr has been making an argument Hollywood doesn’t always want to hear: audiences may be more open to morally grounded stories than the industry assumes.

Baehr founded Movieguide in 1985 and has spent years tracking not only what movies contain, but what they communicate. Its annual reports have consistently argued that films with stronger moral and family appeal can perform well with audiences.

There’s an obvious business case there. A movie more people can comfortably see has a bigger potential audience. But Baehr’s larger point is that worldview matters too.

Stanley D. Williams comes at the same question from the writer’s side. In The Moral Premise, he argues that beneath the plot is a moral idea expressed through the choices characters make and the consequences that follow. When those choices consistently point toward something true, the story has a better chance of connecting.

That doesn’t mean every hit needs to preach. Most don’t. But the stories we keep returning to often wrestle with what people choose, what those choices cost, and whether change is still possible.

For Christians, there’s something recognizable in that. These themes were around long before Hollywood started measuring opening weekends, and Williams himself traces the moral premise through ancient storytelling, including the Bible. We might go a step further: the stories that move us often carry pieces of a Greater Story — echoing the sacrifice, grace, and redemption at the Gospel’s heart.

Maybe that’s why a movie doesn’t have to be explicitly Christian to brush up against something true. And when a film does put faith at the center, audiences can still show up in a big way. The Passion of the Christ is a good reminder of that. More than two decades after becoming one of the most unlikely blockbusters in modern movie history, it returns to theaters September 10–17 in a newly remastered 4K release.

None of this gives filmmakers a guaranteed formula for a hit. But Baehr and Williams make a useful case from opposite sides of the screen: what a story believes may matter just as much as how big it is.

The results are in, and it’s a tie! 50% of you voted for “Surprised” in last week’s poll: What do you want to feel when you watch horror? The other half voted for “Relieved.”

Most indie filmmakers don’t have blockbuster money. That doesn’t mean they can’t borrow the mindset.

Tom Malloy’s Backyard Blockbuster Blueprint starts with a simple idea: stop building a movie around the resources you hope to have and start with the ones already within reach. Real locations. Available gear. A realistic budget. Then make a few strategic choices that help the finished film feel bigger than the number on the spreadsheet.

That might mean putting more money toward a recognizable actor, better artwork, or a trailer that gives buyers something they can actually sell. The goal isn’t to hide a micro-budget. It’s to make sure every dollar is helping the movie reach the marketplace.

There’s proof the approach can work. Aaron Mirtes’ The Bigfoot Trap was made for about $40,000 and ultimately landed distribution through Glass House Distribution, when Malloy was the owner. Aaron has used this model 1-2 times per year for over a decade.

That’s the thinking behind this week’s P.R.O.V.E. Method™:

The takeaway: you don’t need blockbuster money to start making blockbuster decisions. You just need to know which choices actually make the movie stronger, more marketable, and easier to believe in.

_{*Plumb News is not affiliated with the “Backyard Blockbuster Blueprint” or “The Bigfoot Trap” and does not receive compensation for featuring it. We’re just highlighting it because we believe projects like this deserve support.}

“For what is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?” – Matthew 16:26 (ESV)

Blockbusters are built to win big — more tickets sold, more attention, more proof that the bet paid off.

But Jesus measures success differently. What good is gaining everything on the outside if something more important is being lost underneath it?

That question lands well beyond the box office. We can chase the promotion, the bigger opportunity, the thing everyone else can see and applaud… and still end up further from the person we hoped to become.

Maybe that’s part of why the stories that stay with us usually ask for more than a victory. They ask what the win cost, what the character had to give up, and whether they came out of it better or worse than when they started.

The numbers may tell us how big something got. They can’t tell us whether it was worth it.

Until next time,

THE PLUMB NEWS TEAM