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An age-old theme permeates many of 2025's genre movies. It's an idea that goes back in time to the time of the Little Tramp. In the new *Superman* film, the evil force is a greedy, heartless billionaire wielding his immense fortune to tarnish Earth's superhero icon while orchestrating world events for personal gain. In *Jurassic World: Rebirth*, the antagonist is a rich pharma-bro spending a fortune to throw the heroes into a monster-filled arena for his own profit. Within the animated sequel *Zootopia 2*, the antagonists are a dynasty of extremely affluent lynxes who appropriated a altruistic inventor's life-changing idea and framed her for murder, purely for their dynasty's gain.

A Legacy of Film Class Warfare

Within the dystopian thriller *The Running Man*, Josh Brolin plays a rich antagonist running a TV network that makes millions by preying upon and eliminating people living in abject destitution, while using AI forgeries and a powerful smear campaign to label them as selfish, shiftless, dangerous criminals. *Wicked: For Good* is less direct about class division in such a blunt manner, but its evil characters live in clear extravagance while taking advantage of and mistreating Oz's poorest citizens, pushing them out of jobs and toward imprisonment or servitude. *Ne Zha 2*, the year's highest-grossing film, sets the scrappy residents of a hardscrabble farm town against arrogant elites who live in opulent gold-and-jade palaces floating overhead. Interestingly, the agreeably goofy farcical update *The Naked Gun* focuses on a billionaire's plan to trigger global armageddon — for his own profit, needless to say.

There is little particularly surprising in a series of movies taking it as a given that the wealthy have excessive influence, lack ethics or compassion, and a endless, demanding appetite for increased fortune. "The wealthy are antagonists and everyday folks are heroes" as a theme dates back to the early days of film, with early comedies setting his chronically destitute beloved underdog against corporate bosses, authority figures, and bumbling wealthy fools. Starting with the Mickey Rooney/Judy Garland "Let’s put on a show" films of the 1930s to the 1980s dance movies that refreshed that very premise 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 riches is contrary to basic human values, and applaud the defusing, defeat, and sometimes demise of the rich and powerful.

The Outlet That Alters Little

However, for some reason, we never get around to consuming the elite. Whenever lawmakers respond to a public shooting event by blaming violent video games, I sigh with frustration, because if people truly were that susceptible — if regular exposure to an idea via media was enough to allow it to permeate the societal mindset — certainly American society wouldn’t still idolize billionaires. Still the daily reports demonstrates regularly that a frightening percentage of Americans instinctively associate wealth with intelligence and value to society, even after one hundred years of history's most popular movies promoting a contradictory message.

In fact, it looks as though the never-ending cycle of class-conscious storylines in American cinema has given us a relief valve that impedes meaningful change. Provided with a steady diet of mostly uplifting stories where the hero prevails, while the billionaires are defanged and humiliated, everyone can leave the theater content about justice being served. These movies are like ethical parables, suggesting that the system works, and that resourceful individuals will identify any corrupt individuals among the generally industrious, moral, worthy wealthy who succeeded through sheer effort.

A Sharper Tone in 2025

Although 2025's movies aren’t new in that respect, they do follow some recent trends among class warfare stories: They’re getting more furious, sharper, more direct, and observably more fatal. It is seldom sufficient these days to see rich people learn a useful lesson about modesty, like in 1941's *Sullivan's Travels*, or forfeit their fortune to the people they subjugated, like in 1983's *Trading Places*. In 2025, avaricious, malicious wealthy people were eliminated by legendary creatures (*Death of a Unicorn*) and consumed by a colossal prehistoric creature (*Jurassic World: Rebirth*). They were blown up on a hostile planet (*Mickey 17*) and shot in the face at close range on a broadcast (*The Running Man*). They were murdered with a corkscrew (*Companion*) and bludgeoned by an up-and-coming rival (*Him*).

"Very few of 2025’s super-wealthy villains get the driven away in cuffs ending, perhaps because it’s become so obvious that the wealthy operate under their own legal rules, and are highly probable to purchase their freedom."

The "off to face justice" outcome no longer satisfies anymore. Conversely, these villains are prone to meet their end at the end of their movies, often in notably brutal, poetic ways.

Notable Exceptions

Some films diverge, certainly. Superman's arch-nemesis in *Superman* is simply disgraced, revealed, and dispatched to prison. Sinful schemer Julian Dillinger in *Tron: Ares* winds up banished to the virtual grid, where he’s clearly being saved for possible sequels. Korda in Wes Anderson's *The Phoenician Scheme* loses 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