In the legacy media playbook, everyone was chasing the same thing: the blockbuster.
Not just a hit—but a franchise. A piece of IP that could scale into sequels, merchandise, video games, TV spinoffs, and theme park rides: Star Wars. Marvel. Harry Potter. The Hunger Games. Despicable Me. John Wick.
But what does a blockbuster look like in the digital era?
How do you build one when the platform isn’t launched on movie screen, it’s born on a feed? When the content does’t start on a Friday night premiere, it’s a thumbnail and an algorithm?
And maybe more importantly: how do you scale one?
Because in the creator economy, you’re not betting on IP. You’re not betting on a cinematic universe or a multibillion-dollar brand bible.
You’re betting on a person. A voice. A creator.
But here’s the part we don’t talk about enough: not all creators scale.
Plenty have POV. Plenty have reach. Plenty have ambition. Plenty have storytelling skills, or the discipline to keep pace with the algorithm and tech changes. But only a few build something bigger than themselves.
Only a few become actual studios.
As Business of TV sub stacker Jen Topping noted, the biggest YouTube channels today tend to be family-friendly. But as more content—and more capital—shifts toward YouTube and digital platforms, the real question becomes:
Which creators will scale across every category and every audience?
How Two Conversations Changed My Worldview
I’ve been noodling on this for a while as my studio, 3Pas, starts investing in its own digital content. Obviously I don’t want to bet on a show. Or even just a creator. Every bet should have the potential to scale into an ecosystem. Not all will, but if I’m betting, I want to bet big. So I have a creator with a big following and a show he or she wants to launch. What am I looking for to say yes? Not all the obvious questions. But what am I looking for at the core of all of this?
It wasn’t until two conversations a couple of weeks ago that I started thinking more deeply about how to define that ambition. How to give it a real framework.
The conversations were with two very different but surprisingly like-minded executives. One comes from legacy media. The other from the creator economy. Both have capital. Both are actively looking for the next big thing. And both are betting on creators like so much capital.
The legacy exec—we’ll call him Jeffrey—built his empire on comic books and the creators behind them. He was ahead of his time, building a flywheel around IP before most traditional studios even knew what that meant. Not every title spun off new opportunities, but the infrastructure was there: merchandise, games, animation, live experiences—whatever made sense. Now, he’s no longer bound by the comic book. He’s looking for digital natives. Creators who already know how to build an audience and sustain attention.
The second conversation with, we’ll call him Lou, an entrepreneur who’s been embedded in the creator space for years. Historically, his focus was infrastructure and helping creators run smarter, faster, leaner. But now, he’s shifting his attention toward content itself. How do you fund the right thing? Is it betting on one creator? A hundred? Is it an idea? A format? A thesis? Lou was skeptical of betting on shows or ideas. But which creators?
What ties Jeffrey and Lou together is mindset. They’re not looking for a creator who can sell t-shirts and make a few million a year on brand deals and live shows. They’re looking for scale. For a creative engine that can power a multi-platform, multi-product business. For the kind of that turns content into company. Duh, this is obvious.
But something clicked.
If you want to build a blockbuster in the digital age—if you want to back a creator who can go from content to commerce to global brand—you need a replicable creative engine. But what I really mean is you need to get to the very DNA of the content and creator and they must be one.
In the digital world — the DNA of blockbuster is the emotional core concept.
And that’s the fundamental difference between creator studios and traditional ones.
Warner Bros. is a studio. MrBeast is a studio.
But they scale in completely different ways.
Legacy studios are portfolio machines. They make dozens of bets hoping one turns into a Harry Potter. Their brand means almost nothing to the audience. No one shows up for a “Warner Bros.” movie—they show up for a franchise.
But creator studios don’t work that way. MrBeast is the franchise.
And the audience knows exactly what he stands for.
He didn’t scale because he got lucky. He scaled because he found his DNA: high-stakes survival challenges with real emotional payoff.
Legacy studios scale IP.
Creator studios scale their DNA.
And that DNA only scales if it’s clear, emotional, and repeatable.
Let’s Go Back to the Movies
If we want to understand how these digital studios scale, it helps to return to where the idea of a “blockbuster” was born: the movies.
Take The Godfather—arguably the greatest film ever made (IMO).
Francis Ford Coppola has said that when he writes, he tries to boil the entire project down to a single word. A thematic spine that organizes everything.
For The Godfather, that word was succession.
Not “mafia” or “family” or “violence.” Succession.
And once that word clicked into place for Coppola, everything in the screenplay—every scene, every sequence, every line of dialogue—was filtered through it. Power, inheritance, loyalty, betrayal. That’s what made it crackle. That’s what made it cohere.
Screenwriter John August calls this the DNA of a movie—a thematic and emotional through line that organizes the chaos of creation.
And while the analogy is not quite perfect, I think the creators that truly scale share something similar.
They don’t just post and hope.
They iterate. They experiment. They build until they find a single, emotionally resonant idea that clicks with their audience and with their own essence. A word that becomes a worldview. And once they have it, it becomes their north star.
It’s the emotional code that powers everything else—content, product, partnerships, even culture.
It’s not genre or brand. It’s DNA.
And that’s what makes them different—and more scalable—than almost anything coming out of the traditional studio system.
Lets Get All CSI on Dude Perfect
Go back to the very iteration of Dude Perfect’s existence. Kids in college, all athletic enough, all competitive, start challenging each other to trick shots. And they film them. And eventually post them. And then start scaling the idea with more elaborate more exciting shots.
If we borrow from Coppola and August, Dude Perfect’s DNA might be one word:
WONDER
Wonder feels pure and hopeful. Wonder brings us together. Wonder feels childlike. Wonder feels like spectacle but with something deeper underneath. Wonder very infinitely scalable.
Every video is about awe, belief-defying skill, and joyful energy. From trick shots to battles, the underlying beat is always:
“What if that actually worked?”
“Did you just see that!?”
Core DNA Elements:
Spectacle Through Simplicity: A ping-pong ball becomes a nail-biting event.
Authentic Brotherhood: Friendship as content. Friendship as aspiration.
Competence + Wholesomeness: Skill without ego. Confidence without toxicity.
Format Engine: Trick Shots. Battles. All repeatable, franchisable, localizable.
Big Kid Energy: Backyard play scaled to arena spectacle.
So how does this wonder scale?
Scaling Wonder, One Trick Shot at a Time
Dude Perfect turned a YouTube channel into a cross-platform, cross-generational entertainment company—without ever compromising their DNA. Every move they’ve made has deepened, commercialized, or extended the wonder.
Live Arena Tours: Their trick shots evolved into Dude Perfect Live, a touring stage show that sells out arenas like a rock band for families. Wonder, in real time.
Consumer Products & Toys: They built a line of Dude Perfect-branded Nerf blasters, mini-hoops, puzzles, board games, and sports gear sold in Walmart and Target—giving kids a way to bring the trick shots home.
Theme Park HQ (in development): A $100M Trick Shot Headquarters is underway in Texas—a hybrid of an experiential sports park, brand museum, and physical fan hub.
YouTube Format Ecosystem: From “Stereotypes” to “Overtime” to seasonally themed battles, they’ve created a repeatable library of IP-like formats—each one a simple concept elevated by wonder.
Television and Mobile Games: The Dude Perfect Show ran on Nickelodeon and CMT. Their mobile games have 100M+ downloads. The DNA translated across screens because the core feeling never changed.
Brand Partnerships: Their G-rated, awe-filled vibe has landed long-term deals with brands like Nerf, Nike, Bass Pro Shops, and Puma. Their content is a safe playground for sponsors, parents, and schools alike.
Publishing & Podcasts: From their bestselling book Go Big to the Dude Perfect Podcast, the vibe is consistent. They’re not chasing trends—they’re deepening identity.
The result? A studio that doesn’t rely on IP in the traditional sense. The personalities are the IP. The formats are the flywheel. The product is wonder, bottled and delivered in trick shots, stadium tours, dart blasters, and feel-good banter.
And in a fractured entertainment landscape, that kind of clarity—and joy—scales.
And wonder is so easy to scale further —
Live Sports-Comedy Acquisitions: With their family-safe, stunt-driven DNA, Dude Perfect is perfectly positioned to acquire or partner with the likes of the Harlem Globetrotters or the Savannah Bananas—live experiences that already blend athleticism, humor, and performance. It’s a natural extension of their trick-shot ethos, and a move that could cement them as the dominant player in the sports-as-spectacle category.
Arcade & Mall Installations: As retail continues to evolve, there’s a white space in America’s underutilized malls and shopping centers. Dude Perfect arcade zones—a mix of interactive trick-shot stations, digital leaderboards, merch hubs, and social-media-ready experiences—could bring their brand of big kid energy to physical locations nationwide.
Scripted Feature Films: Their core ingredients—team chemistry, competition, physical comedy, and heart—are tailor-made for four-quadrant action-comedy films. Think Home Alone meets Fast & Furious: Backyard Edition. A movie that feels like a Dude Perfect video—but with scale, plot, and global reach.
International Localization: Their formats are universal—sports, competition, camaraderie—and easy to localize. Picture Dude Perfect India, Dude Perfect Brasil, or Dude Perfect Japan, powered by regional creators replicating the format with culturally resonant flair. Franchising wonder across borders.
Creator Network & Talent Incubator: Dude Perfect’s ad-supported app is already working—curating creators who share their wonder-driven DNA. Names like Ryan Trahan, Zach King, How Ridiculous, and the Hewlett Brothers all deliver the same mix of awe, humor, and family-safe fun. It’s more than a content hub—it’s the early blueprint of a creator-powered studio, where Dude Perfect can invest in and scale new talent through their built-in audience. The filter is simple: if it sparks joy, amazement, and trust, it fits.
How to Bet on the Next Digital Blockbuster
If you’re a producer, a studio exec, an entrepreneur with capital to deploy—this is the question that matters:
How do you know which creators can scale?
Not which ones have a viral video.Not which ones have followers. But which ones can build something bigger than themselves—a studio, a platform, a flywheel, a world.
Let’s go back to the Coppola idea: the one word that captures the entire creative system. Because in the best creator-led studios, that word isn’t just a theme—it’s a filter.
Ask yourself:
Is there something in this creator’s content that repeats emotionally, even across formats?
Do they actually know what it is?
Can that idea live beyond the creator—as a product, a venue, a game, a show, a brand, a community?
If the answer is yes, you might not be looking at a creator, you might be looking at a studio in disguise.
That’s what Jeffrey is trying to find. That’s what Lou is quietly betting on. And that’s what the biggest winners in this space have in common.
They figured out what their audience holds onto emotionally—and they built an engine around it.
Wonder (Dude Perfect).
Survival (MrBeast).
Morality (Dhar Mann).
Ingenuity (Mark Rober).
Brotherhood (Sidemen).
The ones who scale are the ones who can take that feeling and reproduce it over and over—on YouTube, in retail, on stage, in film, in food, in formats we haven’t seen yet.
When Theory Meets Gut (and Chicken Shop Date)
This can all sound like a lot of reverse-engineered, theoretical eye-rolling bullshit. But after doing this exercise, I ended up in a conversation with my partner, Eugenio, about two digital projects we’re contemplating. These are shows we’d launch on YouTube with him at the center, 90 million followers across his socials.
Time is our most limited resource with Eugenio, so we wanted to start by betting on just one. The first idea was a concept that celebrates culture within a very specific category—big, infinitely scalable. You could boil it down to a single word:
JOY
Eugenio loved it.
But he had another idea. A comedy interview series. Simple. Easily reduced to a format. And I dismissed it almost immediately.
I explained my theory—the importance of DNA. The need for a unifying emotional concept that makes something scalable. I told him I couldn’t find it in this new idea.
But he pushed back hard.
He reminded me—as he always does when things get too heady—that we named our company 3Pas (pronounced tripas, as in tripe, as in guts) for a reason: we’ve built this company on instinct.
So I went away and started thinking again. Thinking about formats.
One that came to mind: Chicken Shop Date, created by and starring Amelia Dimoldenberg.
The concept is simple, like Eugenio’s: she goes on awkward first dates with famous people. Watch the Andrew Garfield episode—one of the best. At first, I wondered: compelling, sure. But scalable?
I watched more. OK, awkwardness. Yes, that’s definitely there—and scalable. But then I watched even more. And I saw it.
VULNERABILITY
That woman, that format—that’s the DNA. Comedic, awkward vulnerability. It feels infinitely scalable.
She could build the next Oprah or Brené Brown from that—not that she wants to. But it feels like her audience would follow her anywhere, as long as it’s tied to her unique take on vulnerability.
That was the unlock.
I went back to Eugenio’s idea and realized it had the same DNA: vulnerability through embarrassment. That’s him. That’s his comedy. That’s his emotional core.
Boom. His idea synchs his idea with his core essence. Maybe his idea is more scalable. (We are doing both, gotta hedge).
That’s the new blockbuster: an emotional idea simple enough to travel, deep enough to hold attention, and strong enough to scale. And connected to its creator in some ineffable way.
So the next time you meet a creator who wants to build something bigger, don’t just ask what their numbers are.
Ask them what their work is really made of.
Interesting. Do you think this can apply more broadly to filmmakers in general who might want to dabble in different genres, or is this more specifically for creators who put their own personality front and center?
Hey Ben, Hoping to connect with you about producing.