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The Year's Most Popular Blockbusters Urged Us to Consume the Wealthy Once More. We Still Refuse to Listen.

An age-old theme courses through a host of 2025's genre movies. This notion that goes far back to the era of Charlie Chaplin. In the new *Superman* film, the antagonist is a greedy, heartless billionaire using his immense fortune to defame Earth's superhero icon while manipulating world events for personal gain. Within the dinosaur sequel *Rebirth*, the villain is a privileged biotech mogul investing a fortune to trap the heroes into a monster-filled arena to boost his wealth. In Disney's *Zootopia 2*, the antagonists are a dynasty of ultra-rich lynxes who pilfered a well-meaning mother's beneficial creation and framed her for murder, all for their own profit.

A Lineage of Film Class Warfare

In *The Running Man*, Josh Brolin portrays a wealthy villain operating a TV network that profits hugely by taking advantage of and killing people suffering through abject destitution, while employing deepfakes and a powerful propaganda machine to label them as selfish, shiftless, dangerous criminals. The musical *Wicked: For Good* doesn't highlight wealth disparity quite that directly, but its antagonists enjoy obvious luxury while preying upon and oppressing Oz's disadvantaged inhabitants, forcing them from their homes and toward imprisonment or servitude. The box-office champion *Ne Zha 2*, the year's number one movie, sets the tough inhabitants of a impoverished farm town against condescending upper classes who inhabit opulent sky-high mansions floating overhead. Interestingly, the lighthearted humorous remake *The Naked Gun* focuses on a billionaire's scheme to cause planetary doom — to make money, of course.

There’s nothing particularly surprising in a string of movies presupposing that rich people have excessive influence, lack ethics or compassion, and a endless, demanding appetite for increased fortune. "Rich people are villains and scrappy underdogs are heroes" as a plot device goes back to the early days of film, with the Little Tramp's adventures contrasting his always poor beloved underdog against corporate bosses, bosses, and inept, drunken millionaires. From the Mickey Rooney/Judy Garland "Let’s put on a show" classic musicals to the 1980s dance movies that revised that very premise for the era of the greedy, harmful entrepreneurial bad guy, the complete chronicle of cinema is filled with "eat the rich" stories, which presume that affluence is contrary to fundamental decency, and applaud the defusing, routing, and sometimes demise of elite figures.

The Release That Alters Little

Nevertheless, inexplicably, we consistently fail to eating the rich. Every time lawmakers respond to a new mass shooting event by pointing fingers at popular entertainment, I feel exasperated, because if people truly were that impressionable — if frequent consumption to an idea via media was enough to make it seep the public consciousness — undoubtedly American society would not persistently worship billionaires. But the daily reports reveals regularly that a frightening percentage of Americans innately equate riches with smartness and importance, even after decades of the world's most beloved movies promoting the reverse.

Actually, it looks as though the constant stream of class-conscious storylines in American cinema has given us a relief valve that hinders meaningful change. Given a frequent serving of largely happily-ever-after tales where the everyman triumphs, while the billionaires are neutralized and shamed, everyone can leave the theater content about right prevailing. These movies are like cautionary fables, suggesting that institutions function, and that resourceful individuals will root out any bad apples among the generally industrious, moral, worthy wealthy who succeeded on their own merit.

A Sharper Tone in 2025

Even though 2025's movies do not break new ground in that regard, they do follow some modern developments among class warfare stories: They’re getting more enraged, sharper, more targeted, and observably more lethal. It is seldom sufficient nowadays to see rich people gain some humility about modesty, like in 1941's *Sullivan's Travels*, or lose their money to the people they exploited, like in 1983's *Trading Places*. In 2025, avaricious, malicious affluent villains were eliminated by mythological beasts (*Death of a Unicorn*) and consumed by a colossal prehistoric creature (*Jurassic World: Rebirth*). They were destroyed on a alien world (*Mickey 17*) and shot in the face point blank on a broadcast (*The Running Man*). They were murdered with a wine opener (*Companion*) and beaten to death by an up-and-coming rival (*Him*).

"Almost none of 2025’s super-wealthy villains get the packed into a police car ending, possibly since it’s become so obvious that the wealthy operate under their own legal rules, and are all too likely to buy their way out."

The "arrested and awaiting trial" ending no longer satisfies anymore. Rather, these villains are likely to meet their end at the end of their movies, often in especially grotesque, ironic ways.

Significant Outliers

A few stories differ, of course. Lex Luthor in *Superman* is simply humiliated, exposed, and sent to prison. Evil mastermind Julian Dillinger in *Tron: Ares* finds himself exiled to the virtual grid, where he’s clearly being saved for possible sequels. Korda in Wes Anderson's *The Phoenician Scheme* forfeits all his money and is transformed as a person. The wealthy lynx dynasty members in *Zootopia 2* are unmasked as culprits, but they don’t meet|avoid

JD
About the author

Jason Dougherty

A seasoned royal correspondent with over a decade of experience covering European monarchies and their cultural impact.

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