Tyler Perry's position at the top of Forbes's list of the highest-paid men in entertainment — ahead of Jerry Bruckheimer, Steven Spielberg, and a roster of talent whose individual projects command budgets larger than Perry's entire annual output — is a remarkable story about the economics of audience ownership.

Perry built his career by identifying an underserved audience — African American churchgoers and working-class Southern women — and creating content that spoke directly to them with a directness that mainstream Hollywood had never attempted. His Madea films, his stage plays, his television series: all operated at a price point and with a cultural specificity that the major studios considered niche. Perry considered it a market.

The economics of serving a genuinely loyal niche audience can be extraordinary, particularly when the niche is large enough and when no one else is competing for it. Perry's productions are made cheaply by Hollywood standards. His distribution deals are favorable because his audience shows up reliably. His margin per project is high because his costs are controlled.

The result is that a man who writes, directs, produces, and stars in his own projects — handling an almost absurd concentration of creative and business functions — generates more cash from his entertainment operation than people who command the entire resources of major studios.

The criticism of Perry's work — that it relies on stereotypes, that it presents a theologically simplified version of African American life, that Madea is a problematic creation — is real and has been made seriously. It coexists with the equally real fact that his audience finds genuine value and pleasure in what he makes, and that his business results reflect that.