🔗 Share this article This Year's Most Popular Movies Told Us to Eat the Rich Yet Again. We Still Refuse to Listen. A recurring idea runs through numerous 2025's blockbuster hits. It's an idea that goes far back to the time of Charlie Chaplin. Within the DCU reboot *Superman*, the antagonist is a envious, ruthless billionaire exploiting his immense fortune to defame Earth's mightiest protector while manipulating world events for personal gain. Within the dinosaur sequel *Rebirth*, the bad guy is a rich pharma-bro investing vast sums to throw the heroes into a prehistoric arena for personal amusement. In *Zootopia 2*, the wrongdoers are a clan of ultra-rich lynxes who stole a well-meaning mother's beneficial creation and framed her for murder, solely for their dynasty's gain. A Lineage of On-Screen Elite Villainy Within the dystopian thriller *The Running Man*, a wealthy media magnate embodies a wealthy villain controlling a TV network that profits hugely by preying upon and eliminating people enduring extreme hardship, while employing deepfakes and a well-honed propaganda machine to portray them as greedy, lazy, scary criminals. *Wicked: For Good* is less direct about class division in such a blunt manner, but its antagonists enjoy conspicuous opulence while taking advantage of and mistreating Oz's disadvantaged inhabitants, driving them into unemployment and into cages or slavery. The box-office champion *Ne Zha 2*, the year's highest-grossing box-office hit, pits the tough people of a struggling farm town against condescending upper classes who inhabit opulent sky-high mansions floating overhead. Even, the agreeably goofy comedy reboot of *The Naked Gun* revolves around a billionaire's plot to bring about worldwide catastrophe — to make money, needless to say. It is not inherently notable in a run of movies taking it as a given that the affluent have excessive influence, no morals or empathy, and a insatiable, privileged appetite for increased fortune. "Elites are the bad guys and plucky heroes are heroes" as a theme dates back to the dawn of cinema, with the Little Tramp's adventures contrasting his chronically destitute beloved underdog against corporate bosses, industrialists, and clueless rich men. Starting with the Mickey Rooney/Judy Garland "Let’s put on a show" films of the 1930s to the 1980s dance movies that updated a similar story for the era of the rapacious, destructive entrepreneurial bad guy, the whole legacy of cinema is replete with "eat the rich" stories, which presume that wealth is contrary to basic human values, and exalt the defusing, routing, and sometimes destruction of the rich and powerful. The Catharsis That Alters Little And yet, somehow, we consistently fail to taking down the wealthy. Whenever lawmakers react to a tragic gun violence event by faulting graphic media, I roll my eyes, because if people truly were that impressionable — if repeated viewing to an idea via media was enough to cause it to infiltrate the public consciousness — undoubtedly American society would not persistently idolize billionaires. And yet the daily reports demonstrates constantly that a frightening percentage of Americans instinctively link affluence to intelligence and importance, even after one hundred years of cinema's biggest movies promoting the opposite. In fact, it seems like the constant stream of eat-the-rich storylines in American cinema has created a relief valve that hinders real-world action. Given a steady diet of mostly happily-ever-after stories where the underdog wins, while the billionaires are neutralized and shamed, everyone can walk away feeling good about justice being served. These movies are like ethical parables, suggesting that society is just, and that determined protagonists will identify any malicious actors among the generally hard-working, virtuous, deserving wealthy who lifted themselves on their own merit. A Sharper Tone in 2025 Although 2025's movies do not break new ground in that respect, they certainly adhere to some contemporary patterns among eat-the-rich stories: They’re getting more enraged, sharper, more direct, and apparently more lethal. It is no longer satisfactory in the current era to see rich people gain some humility in humility, like in 1941's *Sullivan's Travels*, or be stripped of wealth to the people they oppressed, like in 1983's *Trading Places*. In 2025, avaricious, malicious affluent villains were eliminated by fantastical monsters (*Death of a Unicorn*) and consumed by a enormous hybrid beast (*Jurassic World: Rebirth*). They were blown up on a distant sphere (*Mickey 17*) and executed at close range on national television (*The Running Man*). They were murdered with a wine opener (*Companion*) and beaten to death by an ambitious rival (*Him*). "Almost none of 2025’s extremely affluent villains get the packed into a police car finale, perhaps because it’s become so apparent that rich people operate under a separate justice system, and are very likely to buy their way out." The "off to face justice" resolution fails to deliver anymore. Rather, these villains are prone to perish at the conclusion of their movies, often in particularly brutal, poetic ways. Significant Outliers There are exceptions, certainly. Superman's arch-nemesis in *Superman* is merely disgraced, revealed, and dispatched to prison. Sinful schemer Julian Dillinger in *Tron: Ares* finds himself banished to the computer world, where he’s clearly being saved for a follow-up film. Korda in Wes Anderson's *The Phoenician Scheme* loses all his money and is reformed as a person. The Lynxley family members in *Zootopia 2* are unmasked as thieves and liars, but they don’t meet|avoid