“He has your fire,” Lucy whispers, peeling a melted crayon off the ceiling.

“He has my hairline ,” Gru mutters, rubbing his bald dome where the baby has just yanked a single, surviving tuft.

In Despicable Me 4 , the chaos isn’t coming from a new purple menace or a mind-control headband. It’s coming from a diaper-clad dictator with gummy teeth and a rattle that doubles as a sonic disruptor. The battle for suburban supremacy isn’t being waged with missiles or freeze rays.

And for the first time in his life, Gru looks into those big, round, innocent eyes—just before they launch a yogurt grenade at his face—and realizes: