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A recurring idea runs through numerous 2025's popular films. This notion that stretches all the way back to the days of the Little Tramp. In the new *Superman* film, the evil force is a jealous, sociopathic billionaire wielding his vast wealth to defame Earth's greatest hero while orchestrating world events to enrich himself. In *Jurassic World: Rebirth*, the villain is a wealthy pharmaceutical heir spending vast sums to trap the heroes into a dinosaur-packed danger zone for his own profit. In Disney's *Zootopia 2*, the wrongdoers are a dynasty of super-wealthy lynxes who stole a altruistic inventor's altruistic invention and set her up for murder, all for their own profit.

A Lineage of Film Wealth Disparity

In the remake of *The Running Man*, Josh Brolin embodies a rich antagonist controlling a TV network that profits hugely by preying upon and eliminating people enduring desperate poverty, while using digital impersonations and a well-honed propaganda machine to portray them as avaricious, indolent, terrifying criminals. The Oz-based film *Wicked* is less direct about class division in such a blunt manner, but its villains reside in clear extravagance while taking advantage of and mistreating Oz's most vulnerable population, pushing them out of jobs and toward imprisonment or servitude. The Chinese animated hit *Ne Zha 2*, the year's number one film, pits the resourceful people of a impoverished farm town against haughty aristocrats who dwell in extravagant gold-and-jade palaces in the sky. Interestingly, the agreeably goofy comedy reboot of *The Naked Gun* revolves around a billionaire's plan to cause worldwide catastrophe — to make money, of course.

There is little particularly surprising in a run of movies assuming as fact that the wealthy have too much power, no morals or empathy, and a insatiable, privileged hunger for more wealth. "Elites are the bad guys and scrappy underdogs are heroes" as a concept stretches back to the birth of movies, with early comedies pitting his always poor 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 refreshed the exact same bit for the era of the exploitative, damaging tech-bro villain, the entire history of cinema is packed with "eat the rich" stories, which assume that riches is at odds with fundamental decency, and applaud the neutralizing, downfall, and sometimes elimination of the rich and powerful.

The Catharsis That Alters Little

And yet, somehow, we never get around to eating the rich. Whenever elected officials follow a public shooting event by blaming popular entertainment, I sigh with frustration, because if people actually were that susceptible — if repeated viewing to an idea via media was enough to cause it to infiltrate the public consciousness — surely American society wouldn’t still idolize billionaires. Still the daily reports makes it obvious regularly that a alarming number of Americans innately equate riches with competence and value to society, even after one hundred years of cinema's biggest movies conveying a contradictory message.

In fact, it looks as though the constant stream of eat-the-rich storylines in American cinema has given us a relief valve that impedes meaningful change. Given a steady diet of mostly happily-ever-after tales where the everyman triumphs, while the billionaires are defanged and humiliated, everyone can finish the film content about justice being served. These stories are like ethical parables, suggesting that society is just, and that plucky heroes will weed out any malicious actors among the largely industrious, moral, worthy wealthy who pulled themselves up through sheer effort.

A Sharper Edge in 2025

But while 2025's movies do not break new ground in that regard, they do follow some modern developments among eat-the-rich stories: They’re getting angrier, more incisive, more direct, and seemingly more lethal. It’s rarely enough in the current era to see rich people learn a useful lesson in humility, like in 1941's *Sullivan's Travels*, or forfeit their fortune to the people they oppressed, like in 1983's *Trading Places*. In 2025, selfish, cruel rich individuals were eliminated by fantastical monsters (*Death of a Unicorn*) and eaten by a giant mutant dinosaur (*Jurassic World: Rebirth*). They were blown up on a alien world (*Mickey 17*) and gunned down at close range on live TV (*The Running Man*). They were murdered with a corkscrew (*Companion*) and beaten to death by an up-and-coming rival (*Him*).

"Almost none of 2025’s extremely affluent villains get the hauled off to jail ending, likely due to it’s become so clear that rich people function with their own legal rules, and are very likely to purchase their freedom."

The "behind bars" outcome no longer satisfies anymore. Instead, these villains are prone to perish at the conclusion of their movies, often in particularly brutal, poetic ways.

Significant Exceptions

A few stories differ, of course. Lex Luthor in *Superman* is merely humiliated, exposed, and sent to prison. Evil mastermind Julian Dillinger in *Tron: Ares* winds up exiled to the computer world, teasing that he is being saved for future installments. Korda in Wes Anderson's *The Phoenician Scheme* loses all his money and is transformed as a person. The wealthy lynx dynasty members in *Zootopia 2* are exposed as culprits, but they don’t meet|avoid