Skip to content
Explore the stunning San Marco Mountains with detailed hiki…

The Year's Biggest Films Instructed Us to Consume the Wealthy Yet Again. We Yet Refuse to Listen.

A recurring motif courses through many of 2025's genre movies. This concept that goes all the way back to the era of silent film comedy. In James Gunn’s *Superman*, the villain is a envious, ruthless billionaire wielding his immense fortune to defame Earth's mightiest protector while orchestrating world events to enrich himself. In *Jurassic World: Rebirth*, the antagonist is a rich pharma-bro investing tens of millions to trap the heroes into a monster-filled danger zone for personal amusement. Within the animated sequel *Zootopia 2*, the villains are a clan of extremely affluent lynxes who pilfered a well-meaning mother's beneficial creation and set her up for murder, all for their own profit.

A Tradition of Cinematic Wealth Disparity

In the remake of *The Running Man*, a wealthy media magnate plays a rich antagonist operating a TV network that profits hugely by preying upon and eliminating people living in extreme hardship, while leveraging deepfakes and a powerful media apparatus to portray them as selfish, shiftless, dangerous criminals. The musical *Wicked: For Good* is less direct about economic inequality in such a blunt manner, but its antagonists enjoy clear extravagance while preying upon and oppressing Oz's most vulnerable population, pushing them from their homes and toward imprisonment or servitude. The box-office champion *Ne Zha 2*, the year's number one box-office hit, contrasts the scrappy people of a impoverished farm town against haughty aristocrats who dwell in extravagant sky-high mansions above the clouds. Interestingly, the zany comedy reboot of *The Naked Gun* centers on a billionaire's plot to cause global armageddon — to make money, needless to say.

There is little particularly surprising in a series of movies taking it as a given that rich people have disproportionate control, lack ethics or compassion, and a endless, demanding desire for increased fortune. "The wealthy are antagonists and everyday folks are heroes" as a plot device goes back to the dawn of cinema, with early comedies setting his chronically destitute Little Tramp character against tycoons, industrialists, and bumbling wealthy fools. Starting with the Mickey Rooney/Judy Garland "Let’s put on a show" movies from that era to the 1980s dance movies that revised a similar story for the era of the rapacious, destructive tech-bro villain, the entire history of cinema is filled with "eat the rich" stories, which presume that riches is at odds with fundamental decency, and applaud the defusing, downfall, and sometimes demise of the rich and powerful.

The Release That Changes Nothing

Nevertheless, for some reason, we never actually eating the rich. Every time elected officials react to a new mass shooting event by faulting violent video games, I roll my eyes, because if people actually were that impressionable — if repeated viewing to an idea via media was enough to make it seep the public consciousness — undoubtedly American society would not persistently idolize billionaires. But the daily reports reveals every single day that a frightening percentage of Americans subconsciously associate wealth with intelligence and importance, even after a century of the world's most beloved movies promoting the opposite.

Actually, it appears that the constant stream of anti-wealth storylines in American cinema has created a safety outlet that impedes real-world action. Given a steady diet of mostly uplifting tales where the hero prevails, while the billionaires are neutralized and shamed, everyone can leave the theater content about good conquering evil. These stories are like cautionary fables, implying that society is just, and that determined protagonists will identify any bad apples among the generally industrious, moral, worthy wealthy who succeeded on their own merit.

A More Pointed Tone in 2025

Even though 2025's movies are not novel in that sense, they do follow some recent trends among eat-the-rich stories: They’re getting more furious, more pointed, more specific, and seemingly more lethal. It is no longer satisfactory in the current era to see rich people be taught a lesson in empathy, 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, greedy, hateful rich individuals were killed by legendary creatures (*Death of a Unicorn*) and consumed by a enormous hybrid beast (*Jurassic World: Rebirth*). They were destroyed on a hostile planet (*Mickey 17*) and gunned down point blank on national television (*The Running Man*). They were murdered with a corkscrew (*Companion*) and beaten to death by an up-and-coming rival (*Him*).

"Very few of 2025’s ultra-rich villains get the hauled off to jail ending, possibly since it’s become so apparent that affluent individuals function with a separate justice system, and are highly probable to negotiate their release."

The "off to face justice" resolution fails to deliver anymore. Instead, these villains are likely to die at the conclusion of their movies, often in especially grotesque, ironic ways.

Notable Exceptions

A few stories differ, certainly. The iconic villain in *Superman* is merely humiliated, exposed, and sent to prison. Sinful schemer Julian Dillinger in *Tron: Ares* winds up confined to the digital realm, a setup that obviously being saved for future installments. Korda in Wes Anderson's *The Phoenician Scheme* forfeits all his money and is transformed as a person. The Lynxley family members in *Zootopia 2* are unmasked as frauds and deceivers, but they don’t meet|avoid

The writer

Betty Carroll

A passionate traveler and writer, sharing insights from over 50 countries to help others discover the beauty of global exploration.

San Marco Mountains

Type to search articles.