We live in an era where the ultra-rich are often depicted as clueless, corrupt, or downright evil. From the self-obsessed tech moguls of Glass Onion to the grotesque decadence of Triangle of Sadness, it’s clear that pop culture has embraced a collective disdain for the wealthiest elite. But here’s the paradox—these very critiques are being produced, distributed, and profited from by the same corporate entities they claim to condemn.
How did anti-capitalism become such a lucrative business? And what does it mean when the system that creates inequality is also the one selling us the illusion of its own destruction? Let’s explore the contradictions behind the “Eat the Rich” phenomenon and why, no matter how hard media tries to satirize capitalism, it always ends up feeding it.
The Rise of “Eat the Rich” in Entertainment
There was a time when Hollywood idolized the wealthy. Think of the 1980s, when movies like Wall Street portrayed power-hungry capitalists as ruthless but admirable. Fast-forward to today, and the narrative has flipped. Wealth is no longer aspirational—it’s a spectacle, often absurd, frequently horrifying.
Films and television shows like The White Lotus, The Menu, and Succession depict the ultra-rich as emotionally bankrupt, out of touch, and, in many cases, grotesquely self-destructive. They revel in excess but lack any real human connection. Their wealth isolates them, making them both tragic and repulsive. Meanwhile, working-class characters are either victims of their indifference or, in some cases, the ones orchestrating their downfall.
At first glance, these narratives seem to critique capitalism. They expose the absurdity of extreme wealth and how power breeds moral decay. But here’s the catch: they’re also designed for mass consumption—marketed, distributed, and monetized within the very system they criticize.
The Paradox of Capitalism Critiquing Itself
There’s a term in cultural theory for this phenomenon: recuperation. It refers to how capitalism absorbs and neutralizes subversive ideas, transforming them into profitable commodities. Instead of dismantling the system, these critiques are repackaged as entertainment, allowing audiences to indulge in their frustrations without taking real action.
This isn’t new. Punk rock was once a rebellion against the mainstream; now, it’s a fashion statement sold by luxury brands. Counterculture movements have repeatedly been absorbed into advertising, turning once-radical ideas into marketable aesthetics. The same thing is happening with anti-capitalist media.
Consider how major corporations produce these films and shows. HBO, a subsidiary of Warner Bros. Discovery, profits from The White Lotus. Disney, one of the largest media conglomerates, owns the rights to Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny, which contains blatant critiques of capitalist greed. Even The Menu, which satirizes elite culinary culture, was made by Searchlight Pictures, a subsidiary of—you guessed it—Disney.
Advertising’s Ironic Embrace of Anti-Capitalism
It’s not just movies and television. Advertising has also leaned into the “Eat the Rich” sentiment, co-opting rebellion as a branding strategy. This is most evident in fashion, where brands like Balenciaga sell “poverty-core” aesthetics—ripped sweaters, trash bag-inspired handbags, and sneakers designed to look like they’ve been worn for years, all at exorbitant prices.
One of the most infamous examples of corporate misreading of anti-capitalist sentiment was Pepsi’s 2017 ad featuring Kendall Jenner. The ad attempted to align the brand with social justice movements, showing Jenner handing a can of soda to a police officer in a scene clearly inspired by Black Lives Matter protests. The backlash was immediate, as people saw through the attempt to commercialize activism.
Brands have learned from that mistake, but they haven’t stopped using social rebellion to sell products. Instead, they’ve refined their messaging to appear more “authentic.” Companies like Nike and Patagonia align themselves with progressive causes, creating an illusion of corporate morality while continuing to profit from the same exploitative labor systems they claim to challenge.
Are These Narratives Changing Anything?
So, do these critiques of capitalism inspire real change, or are they just another form of escapism? The answer is complicated. On one hand, these narratives increase awareness. They expose audiences to the realities of wealth inequality and corporate corruption, which can lead to important conversations.
But on the other hand, they offer catharsis without consequence. Watching a billionaire get humiliated in a satirical film feels satisfying, but it doesn’t change the structures that allow billionaires to exist in the first place. In many ways, consuming anti-capitalist media functions as a pressure valve—allowing us to vent our frustrations without taking action.
There’s also the issue of accessibility. The people most affected by wealth inequality often don’t have access to these critiques in the first place. A $15 movie ticket or an HBO Max subscription is a luxury for many. If anti-capitalist narratives remain locked behind paywalls, they primarily serve an audience that can afford to engage with them as entertainment rather than as a call to action.
Where Do We Go from Here?
If we recognize the irony of “Eat the Rich” media, does that mean we should stop watching these films and shows? Not necessarily. Awareness is the first step to meaningful change, and these narratives can spark important discussions. But we should also be critical consumers—asking who profits from these stories and how they fit into a larger system that perpetuates inequality.
More importantly, real change happens outside the screen. If we’re truly frustrated with wealth inequality, the answer isn’t just watching another satirical film—it’s supporting policies that address economic disparity, advocating for workers’ rights, and questioning where our money goes.
In the end, capitalism is incredibly adaptive. It will continue to find ways to monetize dissent, turning every movement into an aesthetic, every protest into a product. The challenge is not just to critique the system but to resist its ability to sell us our own discontent.