Eat the Rich in Films: How the West and the Philippines Tackle Class Tension

IN the world of cinema, the “eat the rich” narrative has become the favorite dish, served with hot social commentaries that court the themes of revenge and rebellion. 

Films like Ready or Not (2019), The Menu (2022), and Saltburn (2023) are prime examples of how Hollywood targets the elite, exposing their corruption and casual decadence as the driving forces behind the suffering of the middle and lower classes.

But the “eat the rich” narrative isn’t confined to Hollywood. Take for example, the 2019 film The Platform. It’s a Spanish horror-science fiction movie that served as a critique of the eat-the-rich narrative as it took the ‘eat’ part quite literally. 

It presents a fictional prison where inmates are fed on a descending platform. Those in the upper level (very literal take on the upper class) took more than their fair share, leaving those below to starve and eat their scraps. 

Parasite (2019), is another example of a non-English film that uses the narrative. This satirical, dark comedy film, which won the Oscar for Best Picture, received global critical acclaim by exposing the class struggle in South Korea to an international screen. 

But what does “eat the rich” truly mean? Where did that phrase originate? And how do we know if a narrative falls under this characterization?

Eat the Rich, French Revolution, and Tiktok

No one truly knows where the phrase “eat the rich” originated, but its popularity is widely attributed to French philosopher Jean Jacques Rousseau:

“Quand les pauvres n’auront plus rien à manger, ils mangeront les riches!” 

In translation: When the poor have nothing more to eat, they will eat the rich!

Rousseau was a leading figure in the French Revolution of 1789— when the French took up arms and executed their monarchs due to their shameless display of lavish lifestyle despite the poverty that many were experiencing. The “rich” that Rousseau was referring to was no other than King Louis XVI and the rest of the aristocracy. 

During this time, 98 percent of the French population belonged in the Third Estate— the lowest class. Yet they have no representation in the government, no voice in the affairs of the state. They suffered for years in malnutrition, famine, and taxation. 

Until they got fed up, the Third Estate revolted in 1789, and the rest was history. 

In the 21st century, the phrase “eat the rich” saw a powerful resurgence, fueled by the growing wealth inequality and widespread food insecurity. 

It gained significant traction on TikTok in 2019, where content criticizing first-world habits—like paying for a Spotify subscription, studying abroad, and owning a second refrigerator—went viral. These videos highlighted the hypocrisy of those who embrace the eat the rich sentiment while indulging in the privileges of a more affluent lifestyle. 

The conversation intensified during the COVID-19 pandemic, as the stark divide between social classes became even more pronounced.

Dishin’ Out Popular Culture

“Eat the rich” emerged as a distinct subgenre around 2019, marked by a surge in films exploring class struggle and the oppressive grip of the wealthy in capitalist societies. 

Movies like Joker, Knives Out, and Ready or Not didn’t just achieve commercial success—they also garnered critical acclaim, especially following Parasite’s historic Best Picture win at the Academy Awards. 

After 2019, films that embraced the “eat the rich” narrative continued to resonate with audiences. The Menu (2022), for instance, received favorable reviews, while Saltburn (2023) not only sparked widespread discussion but also catapulted several of its actors into the spotlight.

It was a clear sign that audiences were hungry for stories that confront inequality head-on.

But what threads tie these films together—and what ingredients exactly make them part of the “eat-the-rich” genre?

At the heart of every “eat the rich” film is a biting critique of wealth and the system that surrounds it. The usual focus of these movies is on power, privilege, and inequality. 

In The Menu for example, the characters are all wealthy or entitled guests who come to a luxurious island for an exclusive dining experience—only to be punished for their arrogance, greed, and exploitation of others. The chef, who once served the elite, turns against them to expose how hollow and harmful their lifestyles are.

In Saltburn, the protagonist is an anti-hero, a lower class outsider invited into the glamorous world of the rich. But instead of feeling grateful, he begins to unravel their secrets and take advantage of their weaknesses. 

These films often center on characters from humble backgrounds who struggle to survive or be accepted in a world ruled by the rich. But it’s not just that— the character must push back against this culture. The pushback must happen through revenge, rebellion, and even murder. 

That’s what defines the “eat the rich” genre. 

The First World vs. The Third World Narrative

As much as the “eat the rich” stories fuel our collective appetite for justice, there are some interesting nuances on how they’re told across cultures. 

In the West, it’s often a tale of individual triumph or sharp-witted critique against capitalism. But in the Philippines and other Asian countries, we often see more plots rooted in a history of collective struggle, revolutions, and deep-rooted discontent with political dynasties. 

So how do these sides of the world serve up their “eat the rich” stories? 

In Western films, the rich are louder, often painted as grotesque, absurd, or outright evil. These films often end with the explosive, literal take down of the elite. Think gunshot, poison, bloodbath, or full on psychological collapse. 

In Ready or Not, each of the evil members in the family met a violent fate. Either they were killed by the orphaned protagonist trying to survive their attacks, or they exploded—flesh and all— upon the arrival of dawn, losing their barter with the devil. 

In Joker, the pushback was simpler: a gun to the head of the host that mocked Arthur, our anti-hero protagonist. 

In Knives Out, members of the Thrombey family met psychological and financial collapse, with Ransom getting jailed for his crime. Marta— the poor immigrant nurse serving the rich family patriarch— got to inherit his wealth. 

These films present us a winning underdog— a cathartic release for the audience who were in the same position as the protagonist. They fight back and win, however dark the victory.

But Parasite, an Asian film, took a more nuanced approach in its presentation of “eat the rich”. It shows the poor trying to blend in and survive within the wealthy world. The Kim family didn’t want to destroy the Park family— they wanted to live like them. 

And the rich’s downfall didn’t really come. They got to move on while the Kim family continued to suffer, with the daughter dying and the patriarch living like a cockroach in the dark basement of the Park family’s old mansion.  

So while Western films often revel in punishing the rich, Parasite shifts the focus to the system itself—showing how both the rich and the poor are trapped in roles meant to keep them apart. It takes a more collectivist approach rather than an individualistic one, where it’s not just a single person, but an entire family and community (remember the flood scene?) that suffer under an unfair, deeply entrenched structure.

On the other hand, the Philippines as a third world country also has its own nuances when approaching the “eat the rich” narrative. 

Don’t get me wrong. We also share some similarities with the West and our Asian neighbors. For example, A Very Good Girl (2023) which starred Kathryn Bernardo and Dolly de Leon employed elements seen in the “eat the rich” films of the West, like a single protagonist pushing back against a capitalist villain. 

Like Parasite, Filipino films and teleseryes also critique the oppressive system through a collectivist lens. Many feature a protagonist, often from a poor background, who falls in love with the heir of a haciendero. In these stories, the protagonist’s family and community—usually farmers—suffer under the harsh rule of the hacienda lord. 

The protagonist eventually finds a way to gain wealth and seek revenge against the rich family, often reconnecting with a lost love along the way. However, in her quest for revenge, she doesn’t just elevate herself—she also lifts up her entire community, or carries out her vengeance in their name (Pangako Sa’yo anyone? How about Walang Hanggan? Wildflower too?).

What sets the eat-the-rich narrative in the Philippines apart from both Western and other Asian films lies in its critique of the system, yet with a significant twist. 

While Western films like Joker or The Menu focus on individual rebellion against the elite, and Asian films like Parasite directly critique the social system and its inherent inequalities, Filipino stories tend to maintain a nuanced view.

In the Philippines, the eat-the-rich narrative critiques the system, but it still upholds the idea that wealth is the ultimate goal. 

The storyline often suggests that the struggle against the elite is part of the journey toward success, but it places the burden on ordinary people to endure hardship, showing them that resilience is the key to overcoming adversity. 

While there may be an acknowledgment of systemic oppression, Filipino films still often depict wealth as a desirable end and encourage characters to persevere for the chance at it—emphasizing personal effort and endurance rather than a full-scale societal transformation.

Rich Taste, Bitter Truth

We may differ in how we view class struggle, but one thing is undeniable: we all can’t get enough of the “eat the rich” genre.

Why?

Because it speaks to a universal longing for justice, power, and retribution. Watching an underdog protagonist rise against the injustice they face—and finally push back, hurting those who wronged them—is cathartic. It’s satisfying, even when the world unfolding on screen is fictional, because we know that in real life, such victories are incredibly hard to achieve. 

The beauty of these stories lies in their promise of what could be, even if we’re stuck with the harsh realities of our own world. 

The “eat the rich” genre offers us a glimpse of power in the hands of the oppressed, and sometimes, that’s all we need to remind ourselves that change is possible—even if only on the screen.