The Year's Biggest Films Urged Us to Consume the Wealthy Yet Again. We Continue to Ignore the Message.

A familiar motif runs through a host of 2025's genre movies. This notion which extends all the way back to the era of Charlie Chaplin. Within the DCU reboot *Superman*, the evil force is a envious, ruthless billionaire wielding his immense fortune to defame Earth's superhero icon while controlling world events for personal gain. In *Jurassic World: Rebirth*, the bad guy is a rich pharma-bro investing tens of millions to cast the heroes into a prehistoric danger zone for personal amusement. Within the animated sequel *Zootopia 2*, the antagonists are a dynasty of extremely affluent lynxes who stole a well-meaning mother's altruistic invention and framed her for murder, solely for their financial benefit.

A Tradition of Film Elite Villainy

In *The Running Man*, Josh Brolin portrays a rich antagonist operating a TV network that makes millions by taking advantage of and killing people suffering through abject destitution, while employing digital impersonations and a sophisticated propaganda machine to depict them as avaricious, indolent, terrifying criminals. The musical *Wicked: For Good* doesn't highlight economic inequality in such a blunt manner, but its villains reside in obvious luxury while taking advantage of and mistreating Oz's poorest citizens, driving them out of jobs and toward imprisonment or servitude. The box-office champion *Ne Zha 2*, the year's highest-grossing film, sets the tough inhabitants of a impoverished farm town against arrogant elites who dwell in opulent sky-high mansions floating overhead. Even, the agreeably goofy humorous remake *The Naked Gun* revolves around a billionaire's plan to cause planetary doom — for his own profit, needless to say.

There’s nothing particularly surprising in a series of movies presupposing that the wealthy have excessive influence, lack ethics or compassion, and a insatiable, privileged desire for increased fortune. "Elites are the bad guys and plucky heroes are heroes" as a concept goes back to the early days of film, with the Little Tramp's adventures setting his always poor iconic vagrant against corporate bosses, bosses, and bumbling wealthy fools. From the Mickey Rooney/Judy Garland "Let’s put on a show" classic musicals to the 1980s dance movies that revised a similar story for the era of the rapacious, destructive tech-bro villain, the complete chronicle of cinema is filled with "eat the rich" stories, which assume that riches is at odds with core morality, and applaud the defusing, defeat, and sometimes demise of powerful, wealthy people.

The Catharsis That Alters Little

And yet, inexplicably, we never get around to consuming the elite. Whenever politicians react to a tragic gun violence event by pointing fingers at violent video games, I sigh with frustration, because if people actually were that susceptible — if repeated viewing to an idea via media was enough to make it seep the public consciousness — undoubtedly American society would not continue to revere billionaires. But the news demonstrates constantly that a alarming number of Americans innately link affluence to intelligence and importance, even after a century of the world's most beloved movies promoting a contradictory message.

Actually, it looks as though the never-ending cycle of class-conscious storylines in American cinema has given us a safety outlet that impedes meaningful change. Provided with a steady diet of largely triumphant stories where the hero prevails, while the billionaires are neutralized and shamed, everyone can leave the theater content about justice being served. These stories are like cautionary fables, pretending that society is just, and that resourceful individuals will identify any bad apples among the generally hard-working, virtuous, deserving wealthy who succeeded on their own merit.

A More Pointed Tone in 2025

But while 2025's movies aren’t new in that sense, they do follow some modern developments among class warfare stories: They’re getting more furious, more incisive, more targeted, and apparently more lethal. It is seldom sufficient in the current era to see rich people be taught a 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, greedy, hateful rich individuals were slaughtered by legendary creatures (*Death of a Unicorn*) and eaten by a giant mutant dinosaur (*Jurassic World: Rebirth*). They were obliterated on a distant sphere (*Mickey 17*) and gunned down point blank on live TV (*The Running Man*). They were killed with a improvised weapon (*Companion*) and beaten to death by an rising rival (*Him*).

"Hardly any of 2025’s extremely affluent villains get the packed into a police car ending, possibly since it’s become so obvious that rich people function with a separate justice system, and are very likely to negotiate their release."

The "off to face justice" ending fails to deliver anymore. Rather, these villains are likely to perish at the final act of their movies, often in especially grotesque, ironic ways.

Significant Exceptions

There are exceptions, undoubtedly. The iconic villain in *Superman* is only disgraced, revealed, and dispatched to prison. Monstrous manipulator Julian Dillinger in *Tron: Ares* finds himself confined to the virtual grid, a setup that obviously being saved for a follow-up film. Korda in Wes Anderson's *The Phoenician Scheme* forfeits all his money and is reformed as a person. The Lynxley family members in *Zootopia 2* are exposed as frauds and deceivers, but they don’t meet|avoid