• This story contains spoilers about Ready or Not and The Menu.

LOS ANGELES, July 24 — When Amazon founder Jeff Bezos and fiancée Lauren Sánchez held their lavish three-day wedding celebration in Venice recently, it wasn’t just a party — it was a spectacle of wealth, reportedly costing between US$47 million (RM198.6 million) and US$56 million.

Critics highlighted the environmental toll of such an event on the fragile, flood-prone city, while protesters took to the streets to condemn the wedding as a tone-deaf symbol of oligarchical wealth at a time when many can’t afford to pay rent, let alone rent an island.

The excessive show of opulence felt like the opening of a horror film, and lately, that’s exactly what horror has been giving us. In films like Ready or Not (2019) and The Menu (2022), the rich aren’t simply out of touch; they’re portrayed as predators, criminals or even monsters.

These “eat-the-rich” films channel widespread anxieties about the current socioeconomic climate and increasing disillusionment with capitalist systems.

In a world where the wealthy and powerful often seem to act with impunity, these films expose upper-class immorality and entitlement, and offer revenge fantasies where those normally crushed by the system fight back or burn it all down.

Horror takes aim at the wealthy

Originally a quote from social theorist Jean-Jacques Rousseau during the French Revolution, “eat the rich” has re-emerged in recent years in public protests and on social media in response to increasing socioeconomic inequality.

In cinema, eat-the-rich films often use grotesque hyperbole or satire to reveal and critique capitalist systems and the behaviours of the wealthy elite.

Film scholar Robin Wood argues that horror films enact a return of what is repressed by dominant bourgeois — that is, capitalist — ideology, typically embodied by the figure of the monster.

He cites The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974), a classic example of anti-capitalist sentiment in horror that depicts Leatherface (Gunnar Hansen) and his working-class family as monstrous victims of the 1970s industrial collapse. Rather than accept repression, they return as cannibalistic monsters, making visible the brutality of capitalist systems that exploit and degrade people like obsolete commodities.

But in eat-the-rich horror, it is the wealthy themselves who become the monsters. The locus of repression becomes their privilege, which is often built on exploitation, inequality and invisible or normalised forms of harm.

These films render these abstract systems tangible by making the elite’s monstrosity visible, literal and grotesque.

Why these films are striking a nerve now

It’s no surprise that audiences are turning to horror to make sense of systems that feel increasingly bleak and inescapable. In Canada, the cost of living continues to outpace wages, housing affordability remains an issue for many, while grocery prices are a source of horror in their own right.

A university degree, once considered a reliable path to stability, no longer guarantees the financial security of a salaried job. Many Canadians now rely on gig economy jobs as supplementary income.

Meanwhile, the wealth gap is increasing and obscene displays of wealth — like a multi-million-dollar wedding — can feel disconnected, even offensive, to people experiencing financial precarity.

Eat-the-rich films tap into this collective sense of injustice, transforming economic and social anxieties into a cathartic spectacle where ultra-wealthy villains are held accountable for their actions.

At the end of Ready or Not, the members of the Le Domas family explode one by one and their mansion burns down. In The Menu, the guests are dressed up like s’mores and immolated. In both films, fire serves as a symbolic cleansing of the wealthy, their power and the systems that protect them.

More than that, these films provide someone to root for: working-class protagonists who are targeted by the elite but ultimately survive. Former foster child Grace fights her way through a pack of murderous millionaires, while escort Margot/Erin (Anya Taylor-Joy) is spared when she rejects the pretentiousness of fine dining and orders a humble cheeseburger instead.

In this way, horror becomes a form of narrative resistance, illustrating class rage through characters who refuse to be consumed by the systems trying to oppress them. While inequality and exploitation persist in reality, eat-the-rich films offer escape, and even justice, on screen. — Reuters