This Year's Biggest Movies Instructed Us to Take Down the Elite Yet Again. We Still Aren't Listening.

An age-old motif permeates numerous 2025's blockbuster hits. It's an idea which extends all the way back to the time of Charlie Chaplin. In the new *Superman* film, the evil force is a envious, ruthless billionaire using his immense fortune to smear Earth's mightiest protector while manipulating world events to enrich himself. Within the dinosaur sequel *Rebirth*, the villain is a wealthy pharmaceutical heir squandering tens of millions to throw the heroes into a prehistoric arena for personal amusement. Within the animated sequel *Zootopia 2*, the villains are a family of super-wealthy lynxes who appropriated a well-meaning mother's life-changing idea and set her up for murder, solely for their dynasty's gain.

A Tradition of Cinematic Wealth Disparity

In the remake of *The Running Man*, Josh Brolin embodies a affluent bad guy controlling a TV network that profits hugely by taking advantage of and killing people enduring extreme hardship, while employing AI forgeries and a powerful media apparatus to depict them as selfish, shiftless, dangerous criminals. The musical *Wicked: For Good* doesn’t emphasize economic inequality in such a blunt manner, but its evil characters live in obvious luxury while preying upon and oppressing Oz's most vulnerable population, pushing them from their homes and into bondage. The Chinese animated hit *Ne Zha 2*, the year's top box-office hit, contrasts the scrappy inhabitants of a struggling farm town against arrogant elites who dwell in opulent gleaming towers in the sky. Remarkably, the agreeably goofy farcical update of *The Naked Gun* focuses on a billionaire's scheme to bring about planetary doom — for financial gain, of course.

There is little particularly surprising in a run of movies taking it as a given that the affluent have disproportionate control, are devoid of conscience, and a endless, demanding appetite for greater riches. "Rich people are villains and scrappy underdogs are heroes" as a theme goes back to the dawn of cinema, with Chaplin’s silent movies pitting his always poor beloved underdog against tycoons, industrialists, and inept, drunken millionaires. Starting with the Mickey Rooney/Judy Garland "Let’s put on a show" classic musicals to the 1980s dance movies that refreshed that very premise for the era of the greedy, harmful Silicon Valley antagonist, the complete chronicle of cinema is replete with "eat the rich" stories, which assume that affluence is incompatible with fundamental decency, and celebrate the neutralizing, defeat, and sometimes elimination of elite figures.

The Outlet That Alters Little

However, for some reason, we consistently fail to taking down the wealthy. Every time lawmakers respond to a tragic gun violence event by blaming violent video games, I feel exasperated, because if people truly were that susceptible — if repeated viewing to an idea via media was enough to cause it to infiltrate the societal mindset — undoubtedly American society would not continue to idolize billionaires. Still the daily reports demonstrates constantly that a alarming number of Americans instinctively link affluence to smartness and social worth, even after a century of the world's most beloved movies conveying a contradictory message.

Actually, it looks as though the constant stream of class-conscious storylines in American cinema has created a relief valve that hinders meaningful change. Given a steady diet of predominantly uplifting fables where the underdog wins, while the billionaires are defanged and humiliated, everyone can finish the film feeling good about right prevailing. These films are like cautionary fables, suggesting that the system works, and that determined protagonists will weed out any bad apples among the generally industrious, moral, worthy wealthy who pulled themselves up by their bootstraps.

An Angrier Tone in 2025

Even though 2025's movies aren’t new in that sense, they do follow some contemporary patterns among eat-the-rich stories: They’re getting more furious, more pointed, more specific, and apparently more fatal. It’s rarely enough nowadays to see rich people be taught a lesson in empathy, like in 1941's *Sullivan's Travels*, or forfeit their fortune to the people they subjugated, like in 1983's *Trading Places*. In 2025, selfish, cruel wealthy people were slaughtered by mythological beasts (*Death of a Unicorn*) and consumed by a colossal prehistoric creature (*Jurassic World: Rebirth*). They were destroyed on a distant sphere (*Mickey 17*) and shot in the face directly on a broadcast (*The Running Man*). They were stabbed to death with a improvised weapon (*Companion*) and assaulted fatally by an ambitious rival (*Him*).

"Very few of 2025’s ultra-rich villains get the packed into a police car finale, perhaps because it’s become so apparent that affluent individuals operate under different standards, and are all too likely to buy their way out."

The "arrested and awaiting trial" ending fails to deliver anymore. Conversely, these villains are prone to perish at the end of their movies, often in particularly grotesque, ironic ways.

Notable Outliers

A few stories differ, certainly. Lex Luthor in *Superman* is simply humiliated, exposed, and sent to prison. Sinful schemer Julian Dillinger in *Tron: Ares* winds up banished to the digital realm, teasing that he is being saved for possible sequels. Korda in Wes Anderson's *The Phoenician Scheme* forfeits all his money and is redeemed as a person. The wealthy lynx dynasty members in *Zootopia 2* are revealed to be frauds and deceivers, but they don’t meet|avoid

Tiffany Tapia
Tiffany Tapia

Maya Chen is a gaming enthusiast and analyst with over a decade of experience in online casinos, specializing in slot game mechanics and player trends.