Dir: Edgar Wright
Cast: Glen Powell, William H. Macy, Lee Pace, Michael Cera, Emilia Jones, Daniel Ezra, Jayme Lawson, Sean Hayes, Colman Domingo, Josh Brolin
Edgar Wright maintains the relentless energy of his earlier films with some well choreographed action, but this underwhelming take on Stephen King’s “The Running Man” stumbles, lacking the filmmaker’s signature polish and wit
Edgar Wright stands as a true gem of British cinema, a cult filmmaking hero whose iconic UK films have left an indelible mark. His infectious passion and knowledge for all things film have captivated audiences, turning both him and his works into cherished favourites over the past twenty-five years.
Wright’s passion for cinema was evident when he burst onto the scene with the cult sitcom “Spaced”. Though it marked his final venture into television at the dawn of the new millennium, it remains his most celebrated work—and one I still revisit often. While stars Jessica Stevenson and Simon Pegg created and co-wrote the show, Wright’s razor-sharp editing, perfectly timed humour, and avalanche of pop culture nods revealed his unique visual flair and technical craft. The show’s devoted fanbase paved the way for the zombie comedy “Shaun of the Dead” in 2004, Wright’s feature debut and the first chapter of the beloved “Cornetto Trilogy”, followed by “Hot Fuzz” and “The World’s End” in 2007 and 2013.
After a series of hit films beyond his frequent collaborations with Simon Pegg and Nick Frost, Wright’s star has never dimmed. So when news broke that the 51-year-old director would be tackling Stephen King‘s dystopian novel “The Running Man” for his next feature film project, my excitement soared. Although I have yet to read the novel cover to cover, its premise is familiar to me. Alongside King’s earlier work “The Long Walk”, which has also just been adapted for the screen, these stories sparked a wave of deadly reality game shows that inspired everything across multiple forms of media, from “The Hunger Games”, “Squid Game”, and even hit video games like “Fortnite”.
The 1982 novel famously made its way to the big screen back in 1987, and while the film stumbled at the box office, it has since become a cult classic, thanks in part to Arnold Schwarzenegger‘s unforgettable, delightfully cheesy one-liners. The movie also captured the novel’s uncanny predictions about society’s future and the media’s powerful sway over the public.
Wright’s adaptation of “The Running Man” remains more faithful to King’s vision, but once again centres on Ben Richards, with Glen Powell taking over the role from Arnie. After the authoritarian Network blacklists him, Ben’s world unravels, and desperate to afford flu medicine for his baby daughter Cathy, and over his wife Sheila’s (Jayme Lawson) heartfelt objections, Ben is drawn into the Network’s lurid reality shows, notorious for their brutality and their grip on the struggling masses.
Following a series of gruelling auditions, Ben is selected for the Network’s crown jewel: The Running Man. Here, contestants can claim a billion-dollar prize if they can outlast thirty days of relentless pursuit by the public and a team of hunters led by the masked, enigmatic marksman, Evan McCone (Lee Pace). Swayed by the show’s sleazy producer, Dan Killian (Josh Brolin), who dangles an advance for Cathy’s medicine, Ben reluctantly steps into the spotlight. With a showy introduction from the charismatic host Bobby T (Colman Domingo), Ben embarks on a harrowing fight for survival across a future dystopian United States.
After finally catching “The Running Man” days after its debut, my disappointment in Wright’s latest effort is hard to overstate. This was one of my most anticipated films of the year, and to see such promise unravel into a lacklustre sci-fi adventure is genuinely disheartening. Still, Wright deserves credit for expanding Ben Richards’ deadly journey across the entire United States, a bold move that breaks free from the arena-bound confines of the original adaptation, which was more akin to 1975 sci-fi sports flick “Rollerball”, and channels the spirit of the source novel. This wider canvas lets Wright stage action sequences in everything from cramped apartment blocks to turbulent aircraft, giving the world a sense of scale and grit. While his trademark wit and precision are mostly missing, there are brief moments where his artistry shines through, especially in the film’s most ambitious set pieces. With his biggest budget yet, Wright conjures a convincingly grim future in which the privileged few tower over the struggling masses.
Wright’s trademark relentless pacing is alive and well here. No one could ever accuse his films of dragging, but for the first time, his rapid-fire editing and breathless storytelling start to wear thin. As Ben Richards races across the country, he meets a parade of rebellious allies—Michael Cera, William H. Macy, Daniel Ezra, and Emilia Jones among them—each offering a spark of interest, but their fleeting appearances do little more than shuttle Ben from one set piece to the next. The result is a film that feels choppy and episodic, never quite finding its rhythm. Even the antagonistic figureheads of the Network, like Brolin’s Dan Killian, drift in and out, draining the story of tension and urgency. The most glaring misstep is with Richards’ fellow runners, Jenni (Katy O’Brian) and Tim (Martin Herlihy), who are introduced with promise but vanish from the narrative, leaving no mark on the plot or the protagonist’s journey.
One of the novel’s most compelling themes—the manipulation of society through media—seemed ripe for a sharp, modern update. King’s vision was ahead of its time, and with today’s reality TV and social media landscape, I expected Wright and co-writer Michael Bacall to deliver a biting, relevant satire. Instead, the film’s political commentary is so heavy-handed it feels patronizing, pulling viewers out of the story rather than drawing them in. The absence of Wright’s usual nuance and razor-sharp wit is baffling, especially given his history of smart humour and incisive parody. Here, the social critique feels more like a burden than a benefit.
This film is far from terrible, but given the talent on both sides of the camera, it should have been significantly better than it is. Glen Powell once again shows he has the makings of a true movie star, yet his charm and comedic flair are left largely untapped. The supporting cast—Brolin, Domingo, and Cera—make the most of their limited roles, and it is great to see the latter reunite with Wright fifteen years on from “Scott Pilgrim vs the World”.
The Verdict:
While it captures the brutal spectacle of King’s infamous reality game show with greater fidelity, Edgar Wright’s “The Running Man” falters as its empty plot and clumsy social commentary overshadow the film’s thrilling action and immersive dystopian setting. This marks a rare misstep for the acclaimed director, delivering his most lacklustre and humourless film yet.
The Running Man is now showing in UK Cinemas
Dan Loves Film 
Leave a comment