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A recurring motif runs through a host of 2025's popular films. This concept which extends far back to the days of silent film comedy. Within the DCU reboot *Superman*, the antagonist is a envious, ruthless billionaire using his immense fortune to tarnish Earth's greatest hero while manipulating world events to enrich himself. In *Jurassic World: Rebirth*, the antagonist is a privileged biotech mogul spending vast sums to trap the heroes into a monster-filled death trap to boost his wealth. In *Zootopia 2*, the villains are a dynasty of super-wealthy lynxes who appropriated a altruistic inventor's altruistic invention and pinned the blame on her for murder, solely for their financial benefit.

A Tradition of Cinematic Elite Villainy

In *The Running Man*, Josh Brolin embodies a affluent bad guy operating a TV network that profits hugely by preying upon and eliminating people enduring abject destitution, while using AI forgeries and a sophisticated propaganda machine to label them as greedy, lazy, scary criminals. The musical *Wicked: For Good* doesn't highlight wealth disparity as overtly, but its evil characters live in conspicuous opulence while exploiting and abusing Oz's disadvantaged inhabitants, driving them out of jobs and into bondage. *Ne Zha 2*, the year's highest-grossing film, contrasts the resourceful inhabitants of a impoverished farm town against arrogant elites who live in extravagant gleaming towers floating overhead. Interestingly, the agreeably goofy comedy reboot of *The Naked Gun* centers on a billionaire's plan to cause global armageddon — for his own profit, naturally.

There’s nothing inherently notable in a series of movies taking it as a given that rich people have too much power, no morals or empathy, and a bottomless, entitled appetite for greater riches. "Rich people are villains and plucky heroes are heroes" as a concept stretches back to the dawn of cinema, with the Little Tramp's adventures contrasting his perpetually impoverished iconic vagrant against fat cats, bosses, and clueless rich men. From the Mickey Rooney/Judy Garland "Let’s put on a show" classic musicals to the 1980s dance movies that refreshed a similar story for the era of the exploitative, damaging tech-bro villain, the entire history of cinema is packed with "eat the rich" stories, which take it for granted that riches is at odds with fundamental decency, and applaud the overthrowing, downfall, and sometimes destruction of powerful, wealthy people.

The Outlet That Fails to Transform

And yet, inexplicably, we consistently fail to taking down the wealthy. Whenever elected officials respond to a new mass shooting event by blaming graphic media, I sigh with frustration, because if people truly were that easily influenced — if repeated viewing to an idea via media was enough to make it seep the public consciousness — undoubtedly American society would not persistently revere billionaires. Still the daily reports makes it obvious every single day that a frightening percentage of Americans innately equate riches with intelligence and social worth, even after a century of the world's most beloved movies communicating the opposite.

In fact, it seems like the endless parade of anti-wealth storylines in American cinema has given us a relief valve that gets in the way of meaningful change. Offered a frequent serving of predominantly triumphant fables where the hero prevails, while the billionaires are defanged and humiliated, everyone can finish the film satisfied about good conquering evil. These films are like ethical parables, pretending that institutions function, and that resourceful individuals will identify any malicious actors among the generally industrious, moral, worthy wealthy who lifted themselves on their own merit.

An Angrier Message in 2025

Even though 2025's movies are not novel in that sense, they do follow some recent trends among anti-wealth stories: They’re getting angrier, more incisive, more specific, and seemingly more fatal. It is seldom sufficient these days to see rich people gain some humility about modesty, like in 1941's *Sullivan's Travels*, or forfeit their fortune to the people they exploited, like in 1983's *Trading Places*. In 2025, selfish, cruel rich individuals were eliminated by fantastical monsters (*Death of a Unicorn*) and devoured by a giant mutant dinosaur (*Jurassic World: Rebirth*). They were destroyed on a hostile planet (*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 bludgeoned by an rising rival (*Him*).

"Very few of 2025’s extremely affluent villains get the hauled off to jail conclusion, possibly since it’s become so obvious that rich people live by a separate justice system, and are very likely to buy their way out."

The "behind bars" outcome no longer satisfies anymore. Instead, these villains are apt to die at the conclusion of their movies, often in notably horrific, fitting ways.

Significant Exclusions

There are exceptions, certainly. Lex Luthor in *Superman* is simply 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 possible sequels. Korda in Wes Anderson's *The Phoenician Scheme* forfeits all his money and is transformed as a person. The antagonist family members in *Zootopia 2* are unmasked as thieves and liars, but they don’t meet|avoid