The Year's Biggest Films Instructed Us to Take Down the Elite Again. We Continue to Aren't Listening.
An age-old theme permeates numerous 2025's blockbuster hits. This notion that goes back in time to the era of silent film comedy. Within the DCU reboot *Superman*, the antagonist is a envious, ruthless billionaire exploiting his vast wealth to smear Earth's superhero icon while manipulating world events to enrich himself. Within the dinosaur sequel *Rebirth*, the villain is a rich pharma-bro spending a fortune to cast the heroes into a monster-filled death trap to boost his wealth. Within the animated sequel *Zootopia 2*, the wrongdoers are a dynasty of ultra-rich lynxes who appropriated a altruistic inventor's altruistic invention and framed her for murder, purely for their own profit.
A Tradition of On-Screen Elite Villainy
Within the dystopian thriller *The Running Man*, a wealthy media magnate embodies a affluent bad guy running a TV network that earns a fortune by taking advantage of and killing people living in abject destitution, while using deepfakes and a powerful propaganda machine to portray them as greedy, lazy, scary criminals. The musical *Wicked: For Good* doesnβt emphasize class division quite that directly, but its antagonists live in clear extravagance while preying upon and oppressing Oz's poorest citizens, driving them out of jobs and into cages or slavery. The box-office champion *Ne Zha 2*, the year's number one film, contrasts the resourceful residents of a struggling farm town against condescending upper classes who dwell in extravagant sky-high mansions floating overhead. Interestingly, the lighthearted humorous remake *The Naked Gun* revolves around a billionaire's plot to cause planetary doom β for his own profit, of course.
Thereβs nothing inherently notable in a run of movies taking it as a given that the wealthy have too much power, lack ethics or compassion, and a bottomless, entitled desire for greater riches. "Elites are the bad guys and everyday folks are heroes" as a theme goes back to the early days of film, with the Little Tramp's adventures pitting his perpetually impoverished beloved underdog against tycoons, industrialists, and clueless rich men. From the Mickey Rooney/Judy Garland "Letβs put on a show" films of the 1930s to the 1980s dance movies that refreshed a similar story for the era of the rapacious, destructive tech-bro villain, the entire history of cinema is replete with "eat the rich" stories, which assume that affluence is incompatible with core morality, and applaud the overthrowing, defeat, and sometimes destruction of the rich and powerful.
The Release That Changes Nothing
And yet, inexplicably, we never get around to eating the rich. Every time elected officials respond to a new mass shooting event by pointing fingers at graphic media, I feel exasperated, because if people truly were that easily influenced β if frequent consumption to an idea via media was enough to cause it to infiltrate the public consciousness β surely American society wouldnβt still revere billionaires. But the news demonstrates regularly that a alarming number of Americans subconsciously equate riches with smartness and importance, even after a century of the world's most beloved movies communicating a contradictory message.
In fact, it appears that the endless parade of anti-wealth storylines in American cinema has given us a pressure release that hinders substantive reform. Provided with a frequent serving of mostly happily-ever-after stories where the underdog wins, while the billionaires are defanged and humiliated, everyone can leave the theater satisfied about justice being served. These movies are like ethical parables, pretending that society is just, and that determined protagonists will weed out any corrupt individuals among the mostly hard-working, virtuous, deserving wealthy who lifted themselves by their bootstraps.
An Angrier Edge in 2025
Even though 2025's movies arenβt new in that regard, they certainly adhere to some contemporary patterns among eat-the-rich stories: Theyβre getting more furious, sharper, more specific, and apparently more lethal. It is seldom sufficient these days 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, greedy, hateful wealthy people were eliminated by legendary creatures (*Death of a Unicorn*) and consumed by a enormous hybrid beast (*Jurassic World: Rebirth*). They were obliterated on a alien world (*Mickey 17*) and gunned down at close range on live TV (*The Running Man*). They were killed with a wine opener (*Companion*) and beaten to death by an up-and-coming rival (*Him*).
"Almost none of 2025βs ultra-rich villains get the packed into a police car conclusion, perhaps because itβs become so apparent that the wealthy live by different standards, and are very likely to buy their way out."
The "behind bars" outcome fails to deliver anymore. Rather, these villains are likely to meet their end at the end of their movies, often in notably grotesque, ironic ways.
Notable Outliers
A few stories differ, undoubtedly. The iconic villain in *Superman* is merely disgraced, revealed, and dispatched to prison. Monstrous manipulator Julian Dillinger in *Tron: Ares* winds up confined to the virtual grid, where heβs clearly 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 revealed to be frauds and deceivers, but they donβt meet|avoid
