Why TV’s Rich Characters Are Taking Over — And What It Says About Us
Zoe Bennett here, your go-to voice for sharp, data-driven storytelling in the world of pop culture. Let’s cut through the glitter and get real: American television is no longer just reflecting life — it’s selling a fantasy so polished, so pervasive, that we’re all starting to believe it’s possible.
From the sun-drenched villas of The White Lotus to the designer-drenched apartments of And Just Like That, the screen is flooded with characters who live like royalty — not because they earned it, but because they were born into it. The latest Netflix thriller Sirens, starring Julianne Moore and Meghann Fahy, isn’t about crime or conspiracy, yet its visual language screams wealth: marble floors, floor-to-ceiling windows, and homes so large they could host a small city. Even shows with darker themes — like Big Little Lies or Succession — use opulence as both backdrop and weapon. The money isn’t incidental; it’s central to the narrative architecture.
Production designer Jessica Kender, behind Prime Video’s We Were Liars, laid bare the intent: “We tried to hit those notes,” she said, referring to the aesthetic of Martha’s Vineyard elites. “It’s everything you’re shown when you open a magazine, like Architectural Digest.” This isn’t accidental. It’s calculated. The media has spent decades conditioning us to equate luxury with success, and now, TV is amplifying that message — often without irony. A stay at one of The White Lotus’s Season 3 Thai villas costs thousands per night. Carrie Bradshaw’s Gramercy Park apartment was listed for $4.5 million in 2019. These aren’t throwaway details — they’re deliberate signifiers of a world where money buys freedom, power, and even moral immunity.
Bob Thompson, founding director of Syracuse University’s Bleier Center for Television and Popular Culture, offers a chilling insight: “A lot of people used to go in the back of the New York Times Magazine and look at these ridiculously huge houses that were for sale.” Now, he says, we don’t just browse — we binge. The appeal? Not just escapism, but a kind of voyeuristic thrill. “I find it much more interesting to watch a series about an organized crime family than I would watching a series about somebody who lived the life I live on a daily basis.” That’s the paradox: we crave stories about people who are nothing like us — especially when they’re rich, powerful, and morally compromised.
Thompson points to a seismic shift in American TV since the early 2000s. The “golden age” of television — defined by The Sopranos, Breaking Bad, and Mad Men — ushered in protagonists who weren’t heroes. They were flawed, sometimes monstrous, but undeniably compelling. And their wealth made them more fascinating. “It’s easier to have shows in settings of the very rich and the very privileged,” Thompson notes, “because it’s kind of an easy source of drama and spectacle.” When your character owns a private island, runs a media empire, or preaches from a megachurch with a staff of fifty, conflict doesn’t need to be manufactured — it’s baked into the lifestyle.
But there’s a deeper cultural reckoning happening. As income inequality widens — the top 1% now holds nearly 40% of U.S. wealth, according to Federal Reserve data — the portrayal of extreme wealth onscreen feels less like entertainment and more like propaganda. We’re sold a dream: work hard, follow the rules, and one day, you’ll live in a mansion with a view of the ocean. But the truth? Most Americans can’t afford a down payment on a single-bedroom condo in Manhattan. Yet, every week, we’re handed another episode where someone throws a party on a yacht while sipping champagne from a crystal flute.
So what’s next? As audiences grow more aware of this disconnect, will networks pivot toward realism — or double down on fantasy? One thing’s certain: if the trend continues, we won’t just be watching rich people on TV. We’ll be dreaming in their currency.
That wraps up today’s analysis. Stay curious, stay critical — and remember: the most expensive set on screen might just be the one in your head.
Sources: Celebrity Storm and New York Post
Generated by AI
