🔗 Share this article This Year's Biggest Movies Told Us to Eat the Rich Once More. We Yet Ignore the Message. An age-old motif permeates numerous 2025's blockbuster hits. This notion that goes all the way back to the days of Charlie Chaplin. In James Gunn’s *Superman*, the villain is a greedy, heartless billionaire exploiting his enormous resources to tarnish Earth's greatest hero while manipulating world events to enrich himself. In *Jurassic World: Rebirth*, the villain is a rich pharma-bro squandering tens of millions to trap the heroes into a prehistoric danger zone for his own profit. Within the animated sequel *Zootopia 2*, the villains are a family of ultra-rich lynxes who appropriated a kindly mom’s altruistic invention and framed her for murder, all for their own profit. A Legacy of On-Screen Class Warfare In *The Running Man*, a wealthy media magnate portrays a wealthy villain operating a TV network that profits hugely by exploiting and murdering people living in abject destitution, while employing deepfakes and a well-honed propaganda machine to label them as greedy, lazy, scary criminals. The Oz-based film *Wicked* doesn’t emphasize economic inequality quite that directly, but its antagonists enjoy clear extravagance while exploiting and abusing Oz's poorest citizens, forcing them out of jobs and toward imprisonment or servitude. The box-office champion *Ne Zha 2*, the year's top film, sets the scrappy people of a impoverished farm town against haughty aristocrats who dwell in extravagant gold-and-jade palaces above the clouds. Interestingly, the zany farcical update *The Naked Gun* centers on a billionaire's plan to bring about planetary doom — for financial gain, of course. It is not inherently notable in a string of movies taking it as a given that rich people have disproportionate control, no morals or empathy, and a endless, demanding appetite for increased fortune. "Rich people are villains and plucky heroes are heroes" as a theme goes back to the early days of film, with the Little Tramp's adventures setting his perpetually impoverished Little Tramp character against corporate bosses, industrialists, and bumbling wealthy fools. Beginning with the Mickey Rooney/Judy Garland "Let’s put on a show" movies from that era to the 1980s dance movies that updated the exact same bit for the era of the greedy, harmful entrepreneurial bad guy, the entire history of cinema is packed with "eat the rich" stories, which assume that affluence is incompatible with fundamental decency, and celebrate the defusing, defeat, and sometimes demise of elite figures. The Catharsis That Alters Little However, for some reason, we never get around to eating the rich. On each occasion elected officials react to a public shooting event by pointing fingers at popular entertainment, I sigh with frustration, because if people truly were that easily influenced — if regular exposure to an idea via media was enough to make it seep the societal mindset — surely American society would not continue to worship billionaires. And yet the news makes it obvious regularly that a alarming number of Americans innately link affluence to competence and value to society, even after a century of cinema's biggest movies promoting the reverse. Actually, it appears that the never-ending cycle of anti-wealth storylines in American cinema has provided us with a safety outlet that impedes meaningful change. Offered a regular dose of largely uplifting stories where the everyman triumphs, while the billionaires are neutralized and shamed, everyone can leave the theater satisfied about justice being served. These stories are like cautionary fables, suggesting that society is just, and that resourceful individuals will root out any malicious actors among the mostly hard-working, virtuous, deserving wealthy who succeeded by their bootstraps. A Sharper Message in 2025 Although 2025's movies are not novel in that sense, they certainly adhere to some modern developments among eat-the-rich stories: They’re getting more furious, more incisive, more targeted, and apparently more fatal. It’s rarely enough nowadays 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 exploited, like in 1983's *Trading Places*. In 2025, selfish, cruel wealthy people were killed by legendary creatures (*Death of a Unicorn*) and devoured by a giant mutant dinosaur (*Jurassic World: Rebirth*). They were destroyed on a distant sphere (*Mickey 17*) and shot in the face directly on national television (*The Running Man*). They were murdered with a improvised weapon (*Companion*) and bludgeoned by an rising rival (*Him*). "Almost none of 2025’s ultra-rich villains get the packed into a police car ending, perhaps because it’s become so apparent that the wealthy function with different standards, and are all too likely to purchase their freedom." The "off to face justice" resolution fails to deliver anymore. Instead, these villains are likely to die at the final act of their movies, often in notably horrific, fitting ways. Key Exceptions There are exceptions, undoubtedly. Superman's arch-nemesis in *Superman* is merely humiliated, exposed, and sent to prison. Sinful schemer Julian Dillinger in *Tron: Ares* ends up exiled to the computer world, teasing that he is being saved for possible sequels. Korda in Wes Anderson's *The Phoenician Scheme* forfeits all his money and is redeemed as a person. The antagonist family members in *Zootopia 2* are exposed as thieves and liars, but they don’t meet|avoid