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A recurring theme runs through numerous 2025's blockbuster hits. This concept which extends far back to the era of the Little Tramp. In James Gunn’s *Superman*, the antagonist is a greedy, heartless billionaire exploiting his enormous resources to defame Earth's greatest hero while controlling world events to enrich himself. In *Jurassic World: Rebirth*, the antagonist is a privileged biotech mogul spending tens of millions to throw the heroes into a prehistoric death trap for personal amusement. In *Zootopia 2*, the villains are a dynasty of extremely affluent lynxes who appropriated a kindly mom’s beneficial creation and pinned the blame on her for murder, purely for their dynasty's gain.

A Tradition of Cinematic Class Warfare

In *The Running Man*, the antagonist portrays a wealthy villain running a TV network that makes millions by preying upon and eliminating people living in extreme hardship, while employing AI forgeries and a well-honed media apparatus to depict them as avaricious, indolent, terrifying criminals. The musical *Wicked: For Good* doesn't highlight class division as overtly, but its evil characters reside in clear extravagance while taking advantage of and mistreating Oz's most vulnerable population, pushing them out of jobs and into cages or slavery. The Chinese animated hit *Ne Zha 2*, the year's number one box-office hit, sets the tough people of a struggling farm town against arrogant elites who dwell in opulent gold-and-jade palaces floating overhead. Even, the lighthearted humorous remake of *The Naked Gun* centers on a billionaire's scheme to cause planetary doom — for financial gain, naturally.

There is little inherently notable in a string of movies taking it as a given that the wealthy have disproportionate control, no morals or empathy, and a endless, demanding appetite for more wealth. "Rich people are villains and everyday folks are heroes" as a concept dates back to the dawn of cinema, with early comedies setting his chronically destitute Little Tramp character against tycoons, industrialists, and clueless rich men. Beginning with the Mickey Rooney/Judy Garland "Let’s put on a show" movies from that era to the 1980s dance movies that updated that very premise for the era of the exploitative, damaging Silicon Valley antagonist, the entire history of cinema is packed with "eat the rich" stories, which presume that riches is at odds with fundamental decency, and exalt the neutralizing, defeat, and sometimes demise of elite figures.

The Outlet That Alters Little

Nevertheless, for some reason, we never get around to taking down the wealthy. Whenever politicians react to a new mass shooting event by pointing fingers at violent video games, I sigh with frustration, because if people truly were that susceptible — if repeated viewing to an idea via media was enough to allow it to permeate the public consciousness — surely American society would not continue to worship billionaires. And yet the news reveals constantly that a alarming number of Americans subconsciously associate wealth with competence and social worth, even after decades of cinema's biggest movies conveying the reverse.

Actually, it looks as though the constant stream of eat-the-rich storylines in American cinema has given us a safety outlet that impedes substantive reform. Provided with a regular dose of mostly happily-ever-after stories where the underdog wins, while the billionaires are neutralized and shamed, everyone can walk away satisfied about good conquering evil. These films are like moral fairy tales, suggesting that the system works, and that resourceful individuals will root out any malicious actors among the largely industrious, moral, worthy wealthy who pulled themselves up on their own merit.

An Angrier Message in 2025

Although 2025's movies are not novel in that respect, they do follow some modern developments among class warfare stories: They’re getting more enraged, more pointed, more direct, and apparently more fatal. It is no longer satisfactory these days to see rich people gain some humility 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 affluent villains were eliminated by fantastical monsters (*Death of a Unicorn*) and consumed by a colossal prehistoric creature (*Jurassic World: Rebirth*). They were obliterated on a hostile planet (*Mickey 17*) and shot in the face point blank on national television (*The Running Man*). They were killed with a wine opener (*Companion*) and assaulted fatally by an ambitious rival (*Him*).

"Almost none of 2025’s ultra-rich villains get the driven away in cuffs conclusion, possibly since it’s become so obvious that affluent individuals live by different standards, and are all too likely to purchase their freedom."

The "behind bars" ending fails to deliver anymore. Rather, these villains are apt to meet their end at the final act of their movies, often in especially brutal, poetic ways.

Notable Exceptions

Some films diverge, certainly. The iconic villain in *Superman* is only humiliated, exposed, and sent to prison. Sinful schemer Julian Dillinger in *Tron: Ares* winds up confined to the digital realm, teasing that he is being saved for future installments. 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