Dumpster Fire on Wheels: #WalletsClosed Rolls Into Epic Fail

Imagine telling the world you’re closing your wallet… then dropping a pile of cash on a rolling billboard bolted to a refurbished electric garbage truck.

That, dear readers, was the big brain strategy behind the #WalletsClosed / #HenryCavillSuperman protest that sputtered across Manhattan on July 11. Ironically right as James Gunn’s Superman reboot was busy stuffing its own wallet with record setting ticket sales.

This rolling irony crawled past Times Square flashing gigantic LED billboards for #RestoreTheSnyderVerse, #HenryCavillSuperman, and oddly, most prominently The Lethal Geeks Podcast.

From a distance it looked less like a protest and more like a marketing stunt hitching a free ride on a half forgotten hashtag…. OOF!

It’s a wild fall from grace for a fandom that once rallied millions of sympathetic moviegoers and raised serious cash for suicide prevention charity through the original #ReleaseTheSnyderCut movement.

Back then, the cause felt noble… Finish Zack Snyder’s vision, honor his family tragedy, give fans closure.

But somewhere after the 2021 HBO Max debut, a section of the crowd pivoted from altruism to antagonism harassing executives, filmmakers, and even actors who dared support a fresh DC slate.

By the time Warner Bros. Discovery crowned Gunn the new architect of the DC Universe, parts of the movement had swapped community spirit for coordinated outrage.

The garbage truck gambit crystallized every bad instinct at once. You can’t preach fiscal abstinence while renting rolling LED ad space. You can’t claim artistic purity when your biggest banner spot hawks a podcast logo bigger than Superman’s emblem. And you definitely can’t persuade casual moviegoers by literally driving your message around in what looks like Gotham City’s sanitation detail.

Social media pounced instantly! Memes dubbed it the “Dumpster-Mobile of Steel,” and the optics alone overshadowed any substantive plea to restore a seven-year-old franchise branch.

Meanwhile, Superman itself was busy disproving the boycott in real time. Despite online calls to keep wallets zipped, the film soared to roughly $125 million domestic and $220 million worldwide on opening weekend… dwarfing recent Marvel launches like Thunderbolts and Captain America: Brave New World.

Positive buzz (83 percent critics, 93 percent audience, and an A- CinemaScore) spread faster than a speeding tweet, turning the protest’s “Don’t buy a ticket” mantra into background noise drowned out by sold-out screenings.

Why did the boycott bomb so spectacularly?

First, mixed messaging. Spending money to advertise not spending money is an own goal for the ages.

Second, hijacked branding. The oversized podcast plug made the whole thing look like a self-promotional gimmick.

Third, Franchise fatigue. The mainstream has moved on, embracing Gunn’s brighter, hopeful vision while Snyder’s mythology enjoys its definitive cut on Blu-ray.

Fourth, timing. The film is, by most accounts, fun and audiences show up for fun, not feuds.

In the end, the #WalletsClosed / #HenryCavillSuperman weekend stunt achieved the opposite of its intent. It provided viral comic relief, reinforced the perception of a toxic minority drowning out reasonable fans, and ironically added yet another quirky anecdote to Superman’s feel good success story.

When your protest vehicle is literally hauling trash, don’t be shocked if your message ends up on the curb along with it.