Years before The Hunger Games, there was The Running Man, Stephen King’s 1982 futuristic dystopian novel about a reality-TV game show where contestants must survive for 30 days while being hunted to the death. The story became a memorable 1987 Arnold Schwarzenegger action movie… and now, unsurprisingly, it’s being revisited for a new generation.
The future is now! Edgar Wright’s adaptation is set in an alternate-reality present that looks like a gritty mash-up of Blade Runner’s urban slums and, well, The Hunger Games, complete with a gleaming city where the privileged live separated from the rest—a city where struggling everyman Ben Richards (Glen Powell) goes to audition for a game show out of desperation. His wife works as a hostess at a men’s club, he keeps getting fired for “insubordination,” and their toddler daughter needs costly medication they can’t afford. Sensing Ben’s simmering rage at the system, the slimy network producer (Josh Brolin) slots him into the deadliest show of all: The Running Man. Ben’s drive and fury seem like a perfect fit for high ratings and, ideally, a longer-than-usual survival period. No one needs to worry that he’ll make it through 30 days, though, because no one has ever survived to win.
In the show, three contestants are given a head start to literally start running for their lives away from the network studio. Once the clock starts, the game show’s assassins—not to mention the public—are on their tails. Each day, the game host (Colman Domingo, dialing it down compared to Richard Dawson’s gleefully sinister MC in the original) narrates the newest footage to a bloodthirsty live studio audience. Needless to say, the other two contestants don’t make it far, but running Ben seems to have a knack for staying alive.
In our current world of AirTags and constant surveillance, it seems a little silly that the showrunners struggle so much to “find” Ben, who’s wearing a trackable device that should make him as easy to locate as a suitcase at the airport. Setting aside that technical inconsistency, the bigger issue is that more people seem intent on helping Ben than reporting him—often meeting nasty ends for their trouble. One of the more enjoyable characters he crosses paths with is a paranoid, nerdy survivalist played by Michael Cera, who lives in a booby-trapped mansion and is thrilled to finally test his creations. Cera’s a hoot and brings a frenetic energy to his scenes.
The whole movie is just a compilation of “how will Ben get out of this” scenarios that have limited tension because, as you fully expect in a movie like this, Ben will survive. There are explosions, shootouts, chase scenes, and flames—everything you’d hope for and expect. Just don’t expect anything more.
My friend said of the movie, “I think I lost a couple brain cells, but I had a good time.” We had a long debate about why this movie is both passively watchable yet completely forgettable. Is Glen Powell being pushed too hard as the next handsome action hero? (Viewers are rewarded with an extended scene of him wearing nothing but a towel.) Was the writing not up to par? Was it the editing or direction or length of the film? Or was it just not thrilling enough? We couldn’t agree… but we did agree we didn’t need to lose any more brain cells trying to figure it out.
