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A recurring theme runs through numerous 2025's popular films. This notion that stretches far back to the era of Charlie Chaplin. In James Gunn’s *Superman*, the evil force is a jealous, sociopathic billionaire exploiting his enormous resources to tarnish Earth's mightiest protector while manipulating world events for personal gain. In *Jurassic World: Rebirth*, the villain is a rich pharma-bro spending tens of millions to trap the heroes into a monster-filled danger zone for personal amusement. In Disney's *Zootopia 2*, the villains are a clan of super-wealthy lynxes who stole a altruistic inventor's life-changing idea and set her up for murder, all for their dynasty's gain.

A Tradition of Film Elite Villainy

In the remake of *The Running Man*, the antagonist portrays a wealthy villain running a TV network that profits hugely by exploiting and murdering people living in extreme hardship, while using deepfakes and a sophisticated smear campaign to portray them as greedy, lazy, scary criminals. *Wicked: For Good* is less direct about economic inequality quite that directly, but its antagonists reside in conspicuous opulence while exploiting and abusing Oz's disadvantaged inhabitants, forcing them from their homes and into cages or slavery. *Ne Zha 2*, the year's top movie, sets the tough residents of a impoverished farm town against arrogant elites who dwell in lavish gold-and-jade palaces floating overhead. Interestingly, the agreeably goofy farcical update *The Naked Gun* focuses on a billionaire's plan to cause planetary doom — to make money, needless to say.

There’s nothing particularly surprising in a series of movies presupposing that rich people have disproportionate control, are devoid of conscience, and a insatiable, privileged hunger for more wealth. "Elites are the bad guys and everyday folks are heroes" as a theme dates back to the dawn of cinema, with Chaplin’s silent movies pitting his perpetually impoverished beloved underdog against fat cats, industrialists, and bumbling wealthy fools. Beginning with the Mickey Rooney/Judy Garland "Let’s put on a show" classic musicals to the 1980s dance movies that updated a similar story for the era of the rapacious, destructive tech-bro villain, the whole legacy of cinema is packed with "eat the rich" stories, which take it for granted that wealth is at odds with fundamental decency, and celebrate the defusing, downfall, and sometimes destruction of elite figures.

The Release That Changes Nothing

However, inexplicably, we never actually eating the rich. Whenever politicians react to a public shooting event by blaming violent video games, I feel exasperated, because if people actually were that impressionable — if repeated viewing to an idea via media was enough to make it seep the collective psyche — surely American society would not persistently idolize billionaires. And yet the daily reports demonstrates regularly that a significant portion of Americans subconsciously equate riches with intelligence and social worth, even after decades of cinema's biggest movies conveying the reverse.

Actually, it looks as though the constant stream of class-conscious storylines in American cinema has provided us with a pressure release that impedes substantive reform. Given a regular dose of largely happily-ever-after tales where the hero prevails, while the billionaires are defanged and humiliated, everyone can leave the theater content about justice being served. These films are like moral fairy tales, pretending that society is just, and that determined protagonists will identify any corrupt individuals among the generally hard-working, virtuous, deserving wealthy who pulled themselves up through sheer effort.

A Sharper Message in 2025

Even though 2025's movies aren’t new in that respect, they do follow some modern developments among class warfare stories: They’re getting more furious, sharper, more specific, and observably more violent. It’s rarely enough nowadays to see rich people learn a useful lesson in empathy, like in 1941's *Sullivan's Travels*, or forfeit their fortune to the people they exploited, like in 1983's *Trading Places*. In 2025, avaricious, malicious affluent villains were killed by fantastical monsters (*Death of a Unicorn*) and devoured by a enormous hybrid beast (*Jurassic World: Rebirth*). They were destroyed on a hostile planet (*Mickey 17*) and shot in the face at close range on national television (*The Running Man*). They were killed with a improvised weapon (*Companion*) and bludgeoned by an ambitious rival (*Him*).

"Hardly any of 2025’s ultra-rich villains get the packed into a police car ending, perhaps because it’s become so clear that affluent individuals function with a separate justice system, and are highly probable to purchase their freedom."

The "arrested and awaiting trial" ending fails to deliver anymore. Instead, these villains are apt to die at the conclusion of their movies, often in particularly grotesque, ironic ways.

Significant Exceptions

There are exceptions, certainly. Superman's arch-nemesis in *Superman* is merely humiliated, exposed, and sent to prison. Evil mastermind Julian Dillinger in *Tron: Ares* ends up exiled to the virtual grid, a setup that obviously being saved for a follow-up film. 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 revealed to be culprits, but they don’t meet|avoid