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The Year's Top-Grossing Blockbusters Urged Us to Take Down the Elite Once More. We Continue to Aren't Listening.

A recurring idea permeates a host of 2025's genre movies. This concept which extends back in time to the era of silent film comedy. In the new *Superman* film, the evil force is a envious, ruthless billionaire using his enormous resources to smear Earth's greatest hero while orchestrating world events for personal gain. Within the dinosaur sequel *Rebirth*, the villain is a wealthy pharmaceutical heir spending a fortune to trap the heroes into a monster-filled death trap for his own profit. Within the animated sequel *Zootopia 2*, the antagonists are a clan of extremely affluent lynxes who appropriated a well-meaning mother's life-changing idea and framed her for murder, all for their dynasty's gain.

A Tradition of Film Wealth Disparity

Within the dystopian thriller *The Running Man*, a wealthy media magnate plays a wealthy villain controlling a TV network that profits hugely by taking advantage of and killing people living in desperate poverty, while using AI forgeries and a powerful smear campaign to depict them as selfish, shiftless, dangerous criminals. The musical *Wicked: For Good* doesn't highlight wealth disparity in such a blunt manner, but its villains live in obvious luxury while exploiting and abusing Oz's poorest citizens, pushing them out of jobs and into cages or slavery. The box-office champion *Ne Zha 2*, the year's number one movie, pits the resourceful people of a struggling farm town against haughty aristocrats who dwell in opulent gleaming towers floating overhead. Even, the lighthearted farcical update *The Naked Gun* revolves around a billionaire's scheme to bring about global armageddon — for his own profit, naturally.

There is little especially new in a series of movies taking it as a given that the affluent have disproportionate control, are devoid of conscience, and a endless, demanding appetite for increased fortune. "The wealthy are antagonists and everyday folks are heroes" as a concept stretches back to the early days of film, with early comedies setting his perpetually impoverished iconic vagrant against fat cats, industrialists, and bumbling wealthy fools. Starting with the Mickey Rooney/Judy Garland "Let’s put on a show" classic musicals to the 1980s dance movies that refreshed the exact same bit for the era of the rapacious, destructive entrepreneurial bad guy, the complete chronicle of cinema is filled with "eat the rich" stories, which presume that wealth is contrary to core morality, and celebrate the neutralizing, routing, and sometimes elimination of the rich and powerful.

The Catharsis That Changes Nothing

And yet, somehow, we consistently fail to taking down the wealthy. On each occasion politicians respond to a public shooting event by faulting popular entertainment, I sigh with frustration, because if people truly were that impressionable — if frequent consumption to an idea via media was enough to allow it to permeate the societal mindset — undoubtedly American society would not persistently worship billionaires. But the daily reports demonstrates every single day that a frightening percentage of Americans instinctively associate wealth with smartness and importance, even after one hundred years of cinema's biggest movies conveying the reverse.

In fact, it appears that the constant stream of eat-the-rich storylines in American cinema has provided us with a pressure release that hinders substantive reform. Offered a steady diet of largely uplifting stories where the everyman triumphs, while the billionaires are defanged and humiliated, everyone can walk away content about right prevailing. These stories are like moral fairy tales, pretending that institutions function, and that plucky heroes will root out any malicious actors among the mostly hard-working, virtuous, deserving wealthy who lifted themselves on their own merit.

A More Pointed Message in 2025

But while 2025's movies do not break new ground in that regard, they indeed follow some recent trends among class warfare stories: They’re getting more furious, more pointed, more specific, and seemingly more violent. It is no longer satisfactory nowadays to see rich people learn a useful lesson about modesty, like in 1941's *Sullivan's Travels*, or be stripped of wealth to the people they subjugated, like in 1983's *Trading Places*. In 2025, greedy, hateful wealthy people were slaughtered by legendary creatures (*Death of a Unicorn*) and eaten by a enormous hybrid beast (*Jurassic World: Rebirth*). They were blown up on a hostile planet (*Mickey 17*) and gunned down point blank on national television (*The Running Man*). They were stabbed to death with a corkscrew (*Companion*) and assaulted fatally by an rising rival (*Him*).

"Hardly any of 2025’s ultra-rich villains get the packed into a police car finale, possibly since it’s become so clear that affluent individuals function with their own legal rules, and are all too likely to purchase their freedom."

The "behind bars" outcome isn’t cathartic anymore. Conversely, these villains are apt to die at the end of their movies, often in particularly grotesque, ironic ways.

Significant Exclusions

Some films diverge, certainly. Lex Luthor in *Superman* is simply disgraced, revealed, and dispatched to prison. Evil mastermind Julian Dillinger in *Tron: Ares* finds himself banished to the computer world, a setup that obviously being saved for possible sequels. Korda in Wes Anderson's *The Phoenician Scheme* is stripped of all his money and is reformed as a person. The wealthy lynx dynasty members in *Zootopia 2* are unmasked as culprits, but they don’t meet|avoid

The writer

Robert Wilson

A business strategist with over a decade of experience in digital transformation and corporate innovation.

Dynamic Arena Group

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