PLOT: In an act of desperation, Ben Richards (Glen Powell) signs up to be a contestant on The Running Man, a televised game show where he will be hunted across the United States by an army of goons and professional killers — with the viewing public receiving huge cash bonuses for selling him out to the network that airs the show.
REVIEW: Being a child of the eighties, I must admit to being a massive fan of the 1987 version of The Running Man growing up. So much of a fan, in fact, that when I had to choose a book to read in class, I picked the Stephen King (or rather, Richard Bachman) novel the film was based on—only to be shocked by how little the two had in common beyond the basic premise. Edgar Wright’s adaptation is far more faithful to the novel than the eighties movie, albeit given a contemporary action-movie polish that keeps it from being the incendiary downer the book was. As a piece of entertainment, its craft is often dazzling, with Wright—as always—proving himself a gifted director.
Yet, The Running Man isn’t without its faults. The movie falls flat anytime it tries to be satirical, which is more often than not. One of the reasons the eighties film worked so well is that it perfectly skewered pop culture and cheesy game shows of the time. This new version aims to do the same, but it never quite convinces us that the world it depicts would actually embrace a premise like The Running Man. Its vision of the future feels like the dystopia we imagined in the eighties rather than one we might imagine now—one that could have more effectively satirized AI, social media, and tech oligarchs.
As such, the satire has next to no bite. Josh Brolin, as Killian—the film’s big bad—is smooth and polished, but he never gets enough screen time for us to really hate him. The film also takes a highly episodic approach, with Powell’s Richards moving from one ally to the next. Many of the bigger names—such as William H. Macy—have surprisingly modest roles.
It’s certainly Glen Powell’s show all the way through, and his debut as an action star is mostly strong. He has the wiry physique to make for a convincing hero who’s not in the Arnold mold, relying more on disguises and ingenuity to evade capture. Yet, his tough-guy act often feels forced, with his constant scowling and occasional one-liners trying a little too hard to convince us he’s an action hero—even though it’s precisely the fact that he isn’t that makes him interesting casting.
For all its faults, which are more noticeable than I expected, The Running Man still delivers some incredible sequences. There’s a car chase where Powell is trapped in a trunk and bounced around in inventive ways, and the finale aboard a network jet is both violent and thrilling. I also loved Lee Pace as the main Hunter—he’s the only one of the bunch with a real presence, and he has enough gravitas to potentially anchor an action film himself. He’s cast effectively against type as a tough guy. Michael Cera also steals scenes as a revolutionary zine publisher who seems to understand the movie’s intended satirical tone better than anyone else.
Where many may find The Running Man comes up short is in the final act, which feels truncated as it rushes toward the ending. Emilia Jones’s character – who is introduced about thirty minutes before the movie ends – undergoes a ridiculously abrupt change, making it seem like a good chunk of her role was cut. The finale itself feels anticlimactic—sped through, as if added in post-production.
While this review may make it sound like I didn’t enjoy Wright’s Running Man, that’s not the case. Wright is a great director, though sometimes his movies don’t quite land for me. Maybe it’s because they’re so stuffed and frantic that they can be overwhelming. It took me several repeat viewings to come around to Scott Pilgrim, and perhaps the same will be true here. Even so, the flaws are outweighed by the sheer craft and spectacle on display. It might not have landed exactly how I hoped, but The Running Man is still a must-see—and one many will love.
For the record, I saw it with six other people: three loved it, three felt the same as I did, and no one hated it. Take from that what you will.
