The Running Man is a lot of fun, but sorely lacking in a strong perspective and Edgar Wright’s usual flourishes.
Mild spoilers for this movie, though given how belated this brain dump is, I can’t imagine it’ll be an issue.
As the exposition-heavy opening scenes of Edgar Wright’s adaptation of Stephen King’s The Running Man unfold, we’re introduced to a futuristic world where income inequality is rife, the corpo-owned media apparatus has brainwashed a majority of the populace into being mad at each other rather than the wealthy, and ‘Murica is an authoritarian hellscape where the only thing that reigns supreme is capitalism.
That premise would’ve been pretty damn interesting… 20 years ago. In 2025, well, it’s nothing more than a depressing reflection of our reality.
‘Murica’s rapid descent into a farcical mess where satire no longer exists has defanged the premise of The Running Man and put any adaptation of King’s novel at an immediate disadvantage. But with Edgar Wright’s subversive, postmodern sense of humour at the helm, I expected him to bring something interesting to make up for ‘Murica shitting the satirical bed for culture and ruining it for artists.
Instead, what we get is an unexpectedly messy, surprisingly straightforward, and ultimately a decidedly okay movie.
The Running Man is about Ben Richards (Glen Powell), a loving father whose family is struggling to get by financially. Fired from his latest job for insubordination (again) and therefore unable to afford flu medication for his sick daughter, Ben decides to audition for the most popular TV show in the country, ‘The Running Man’.
The show’s premise is simple: The selected contestants are let loose, given a wad of cash to spend however they like, and are challenged to survive 30 days as hunters try to put a bullet in their head. Survive all that, and the winner will be rich beyond their wildest dreams.
Wright and co-screenwriter Michael Bacall’s script tries to wrap a satirical lens on today’s techno-dominated dystopian landscape around a story about family before sprinkling an extra helping of action-thriller fun on top. The end result is a lacklustre script that attempts to balance everything, but fails at doing anything on a meaningful level (except for the action, more on this later).
The most jarring element of The Running Man is its use of television as the main conduit through which Wright and Bacall attempt to funnel their dystopian ideas and satire, given how outdated it is. There’s stuff about capitalism, the cynical insistence that everything is done ‘for the ratings’, and inequality between the rich and the poor, but it all feels surface-level since the internet has replaced television as the main way we process the world. This is a tonally confused movie because Wright doesn’t commit to one lane consistently or strongly enough, whether it’s the satire stuff, the action, the human element, or even the over-the-top gore he’s known for.
It is plausible that smartphone technology is only available to the rich, and the only entertainment and news the poor have easy access to is television, but then why not explore this dynamic further? The Running Man raises a lot of interesting ideas, but doesn’t spend any time digging deeper into any of them because the plot needs to keep motoring along.
The human story under it all also suffers from being decidedly one-dimensional. We learn that Ben is a loving father with anger issues…and that’s basically it. Like the aforementioned surface-level thematic explorations, we don’t really get Ben (other than the fact that nearly everything makes him angry), where he got his smarts, or how he remains so jacked despite being unable to afford flu medicine for his daughter, let alone a pile of protein powder every day. The quieter one-on-one scenes are also missing that extra layer of emotion we’ve witnessed previously in Shaun of the Dead and The World’s End. Whenever Ben is chatting with his wife or with someone rebelling against the corpos, it’s either exposition or Ben angrily yelling.
Massive credit to Powell and the rest of the stacked cast for doing what they can with a script that really isn’t there. Josh Brolin has always been great in strong supporting parts where you can tell he’s enjoying himself (such as Sicario and Inherent Vice) and it’s clear he’s revelling in being the dickhead producer of ‘The Running Man’ here. Michael Cera follows up a strong oddball turn in The Phoenician Scheme with another entertaining oddball turn here as a rebel who has beef with the powers that be. But the one who is clearly having the most fun is Colman Domingo as the flashy and flamboyant host of ‘The Running Man’. Domingo understood the assignment and brings it all in spades.
Having seen Powell be a cocky yet likeable asshole in Top Gun: Maverick and a charming everyman who can rock disguises with ease in Hit Man, I can easily buy him as someone who is one mere nudge away from a full-blown rage breakdown. He’s also very convincing when it comes to all the kinetic action set pieces, which is where The Running Man truly shines.
Wright has firmly put himself in rarefied air when it comes to thrilling action scenes, and he doesn’t disappoint here. Chase scenes are manic in a cartoonish yet enjoyable way, fights and action set pieces are muscular and hugely fun, and the production design is damn impressive. In other words, exactly the level of excellence you’d expect from a master craftsman.
The action stuff goes a little way in making up for the atypical lack of ‘Edgar Wright’ touches. Exposition is delivered in a boring, strait-laced manner rather than the creatively entertaining ways (like the TV channel flipping scene that inadvertently reveals the zombie apocalypse in Shaun of the Dead); the usual visual flair or sight gags are few and far between (sorely missing a ‘failed fence jump’ gag); and the trademark Wright comedic one-liners and banter are virtually non-existent. It’s the unfortunate downside when a great director finally adapts something they have reverence for as their adherence to the source material ultimately stymies the level of creativity somewhat, and Wright’s long-running (pun not intended) love of King’s novel and decision to be faithful to it has made his adaptation rather bland.
Look, I can’t really find much in The Running Man that I can speak glowingly about. It lacks the biting commentary of Hot Fuzz or The World’s End, the gooey human story pales in comparison to Shaun of the Dead, and the usual sprinkle of wry humour across all of Wright’s previous movies is sorely missing.
But I can also honestly say that I was never bored over the course of the 133-minute running time. In a way, that’s disconcerting because in trying to be an edgy commentary about media manipulation and being distracted from the bigger picture, this movie ends up being nothing more than a fun romp churned by the same machine it claims to critique.