The rich are not like you and me. Studies have shown again and again that the wealthier you are, the less stressed, empathetic, and morally scrupulous you’re likely to be. The psychological effect of money can be so powerful, the rich may as well be a different species.

In fact, what if they are?

This was the conceit of 1989’s Society, one of the more fantastically deranged cinematic artifacts from the era of low-budget body horror. This kind of thing wasn’t unusual for cinema in the decade of Ronald Reagan, when movies like Trading Places and Wall Street called attention to the class divide that had become more visible than seemingly ever in American society. But Society stands out not just for the sensational physical effects that solidified it as a cult classic for horror fans, but the directness and savagery of its class critique. For all the pastel colors, poofy hair, and teen sex antics that date it firmly to the 1980s, Society oddly feels like it was meant for our era of Jeffrey Epstein, QAnon, and oligarchic scheming.