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A familiar idea permeates a host of 2025's genre movies. This concept which extends all the way back to the era of Charlie Chaplin. In the new *Superman* film, the villain is a envious, ruthless billionaire using his enormous resources to defame Earth's greatest hero while manipulating world events to enrich himself. Within the dinosaur sequel *Rebirth*, the villain is a wealthy pharmaceutical heir spending tens of millions to trap the heroes into a dinosaur-packed arena to boost his wealth. Within the animated sequel *Zootopia 2*, the villains are a clan of ultra-rich lynxes who stole a altruistic inventor's altruistic invention and pinned the blame on her for murder, all for their own profit.

A Tradition of On-Screen Class Warfare

In *The Running Man*, the antagonist embodies a wealthy villain running a TV network that makes millions by taking advantage of and killing people enduring desperate poverty, while using digital impersonations and a sophisticated smear campaign to label them as selfish, shiftless, dangerous criminals. The musical *Wicked: For Good* doesn’t emphasize class division in such a blunt manner, but its evil characters live in clear extravagance while preying upon and oppressing Oz's most vulnerable population, driving them into unemployment and into cages or slavery. The Chinese animated hit *Ne Zha 2*, the year's top film, sets the scrappy inhabitants of a hardscrabble farm town against arrogant elites who dwell in opulent gold-and-jade palaces floating overhead. Interestingly, the agreeably goofy farcical update *The Naked Gun* centers on a billionaire's scheme to trigger global armageddon — for financial gain, naturally.

It is not inherently notable in a string of movies assuming as fact that the wealthy have excessive influence, lack ethics or compassion, and a bottomless, entitled appetite for increased fortune. "Elites are the bad guys and plucky heroes are heroes" as a concept goes back to the dawn of cinema, with the Little Tramp's adventures setting his always poor beloved underdog against tycoons, bosses, and clueless rich men. Starting with the Mickey Rooney/Judy Garland "Let’s put on a show" movies from that era to the 1980s dance movies that updated a similar story for the era of the exploitative, damaging tech-bro villain, the complete chronicle of cinema is filled with "eat the rich" stories, which presume that wealth is at odds with fundamental decency, and applaud the neutralizing, downfall, and sometimes elimination of elite figures.

The Outlet That Alters Little

However, inexplicably, we consistently fail to taking down the wealthy. On each occasion elected officials react to a tragic gun violence event by pointing fingers at violent video games, I sigh with frustration, because if people truly were that easily influenced — if repeated viewing to an idea via media was enough to allow it to permeate the societal mindset — certainly American society would not continue to worship billionaires. And yet the headlines reveals every single day that a significant portion of Americans subconsciously associate wealth with smartness and importance, even after one hundred years of history's most popular movies conveying the opposite.

Actually, it seems like the never-ending cycle of anti-wealth storylines in American cinema has provided us with a relief valve that impedes substantive reform. Provided with a frequent serving of predominantly happily-ever-after tales where the underdog wins, while the billionaires are neutralized and shamed, everyone can finish the film content about justice being served. These stories are like cautionary fables, pretending that society is just, and that determined protagonists will weed out any corrupt individuals among the largely industrious, moral, worthy wealthy who succeeded on their own merit.

An Angrier Edge in 2025

Even though 2025's movies are not novel in that regard, they certainly adhere to some recent trends among class warfare stories: They’re getting more furious, more incisive, more specific, and seemingly 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 oppressed, like in 1983's *Trading Places*. In 2025, selfish, cruel affluent villains were eliminated by fantastical monsters (*Death of a Unicorn*) and eaten by a giant mutant dinosaur (*Jurassic World: Rebirth*). They were obliterated on a hostile planet (*Mickey 17*) and executed directly on live TV (*The Running Man*). They were killed with a wine opener (*Companion*) and bludgeoned by an rising rival (*Him*).

"Very few of 2025’s super-wealthy villains get the packed into a police car ending, likely due to it’s become so clear that the wealthy operate under different standards, and are very likely to buy their way out."

The "behind bars" outcome isn’t cathartic anymore. Rather, these villains are apt to perish at the final act of their movies, often in particularly horrific, fitting ways.

Notable Exclusions

There are exceptions, undoubtedly. Superman's arch-nemesis in *Superman* is only disgraced, revealed, and dispatched to prison. Monstrous manipulator Julian Dillinger in *Tron: Ares* ends up confined to the virtual grid, 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 Lynxley family members in *Zootopia 2* are revealed to be frauds and deceivers, but they don’t meet|avoid