The Running Man

While the subject matter takes on a fresh contemporary relevance, the latest adaptation of The Running Man waters down the prescient subtext of Stephen King’s source material for mainstream consumption.

As directed by Edgar Wright (Baby Driver), the adrenaline-fueled action saga taps into our obsession with reality television and viral fame, exploring voyeurism, machismo, bloodlust, and media sensationalism and propaganda.

Despite some evocative dystopian landscapes and stylish visual flourishes, the film’s foreboding atmosphere of dread and despair doesn’t translate to consistent suspense.

The story is set in a near-future beset by exaggerated socioeconomic inequality. That’s where we find Ben Richards (Glen Powell), a father whose insubordinate temper leaves him unable to find consistent employment.

His young daughter’s medical bills, however, prompt him to consider applying for a spot on The Running Man, a wildly popular cat-and-mouse game show in which contestants are pursued by a ruthless army of assassins, fueled by lucratively rewarded public tipsters. The higher chance of death, the higher the ratings. Nobody’s ever survived long enough to claim the $1 billion prize.

“People on that show don’t come back,” cautions his wife (Jayme Lawson). Yet as soon as Ben promises he won’t do it, you know exactly where he’ll wind up.

The producer (Josh Brolin) glosses over Ben’s defiance, knowing that the cynical and impulsive hothead will play well on TV, especially when paired with the show’s charismatic and antagonistic ringmaster (Colman Domingo).

As he moves from one hiding spot to the next, Ben finds a few allies (played by William H. Macy, Daniel Ezra, and Michael Cera) who are rooting for him. He’s resilient, resourceful, and determined to beat insurmountable odds. But is that enough?

Previously a mediocre vehicle for Arnold Schwarzenegger during his early heyday in 1987, this remake is darker and adheres closer to the novel.

The heavy-handed screenplay by Wright and Michael Bacall (21 Jump Street) lacks subtlety and surprise. Exposing a link between greedy corporate exploitation and working-class desperation is hardly revelatory.

Fortunately, Powell (Twisters) validates his action-hero credentials with a charismatic mix of brains and brawn. His portrayal is admirable just in terms of sheer physical exertion. In general, the cast brings emotional depth and moral complexity the script often lacks.

Favoring straightforward action over edgy satire, The Running Man predictably funnels into a series of death-defying escapes emphasizing spectacle over substance. It doesn’t know when to stop.

Rated R, 132 minutes.