The Running Man, written and directed by Edgar Wright (Shaun of the Dead) and starring Glen Powell (Twisters), brings 2025 a more faithful big-screen adaptation of the original 1982 novel by Stephen King when compared to the 1987 cult classic Arnold Schwarzenegger film. Although this update is being released in the same year as the setting of King’s book and the subject matter has never been more pertinent, this adaptation is primarily a stylish, but hollow actioner with a disjointed third act.
The basic premise remains the same: Ben Richards (Powell) has no choice but to join the reality game show, “The Running Man”, where he’s hunted by professional killers on live broadcast streams and earns money the longer he stays alive. In this modern version, Richards is an impoverished citizen that can’t find work due to a bogus job black-listing and is desperate for income to save his extremely ill daughter. He’s an average Joe (like in the novel) and not the trained police officer that was an easy fit for the carnage of the games in 1987 film. This version is desperate and always on the verge of cracking, and Powell imbues the gravity of his the character’s situation with old-school action hero swagger.
The story follows Richard’s vantage point throughout, and we only meet the rest of the cast from his point of view. Josh Brolin is the string-pulling show producer, Ben Killian, a stock villain obsessed with ratings and always has the upper hand – Brolin can play a prick with ease, but Killian never rises above a trope. The role was played by Richard Dawson in the 1987 film and was not a producer, rather the game show host (naturally), a role taken over this time by Colman Domingo as Bobby “Bobby T” Thompson. Domingo is scenery chewing in every moment, and I’m here for it, although at times Bobby T feels more fit for The Hunger Games than this somewhat more grounded version of The Running Man.
On that subject, some of the flash and fun of the 1987 film were the outlandish American Gladiator-style hunters equipped with signature name and weapons that were unleashed to hunt the contestants. This film falls flat because there are no memorable villains, while covering ground well tread by other headier films like the aforementioned Hunger Games franchise. The Running Man‘s hunters are just military style guys in fatigues lead by Lee Pace as Evan McCone, a role that wastes his talents by hiding him behind a mask for the majority of film – the actor only gets to truly join the fray in the clustered, rushed final act. Wright seems to want to spend more time making the supporting protagonists, played by the likes of William H. Macey and Katy O’Brian and more, as the larger than life characters in his version – not the villains.
In that messy, off-the-rails last portion of the film, it crams in two new characters, introduces predictable twists, and adds a goofy, happier ending – especially when compared to the source material. One of those new characters is Michael Cera as a conspiracy theory “prepper” that helps Richards hide from the hunters, in a segment that signals a wild tone shift. Taken for what it is, the sequences with Cera are entertaining, but far too over-the-top when matched with the earlier film. Then we get to a civilian, Amelia (Emilia Jones) taken hostage by Richards in her car, with a whole movie’s character arc stuffed into about 10 minutes of film – she goes from vapid reality show fangal to trusting Richards, jumping out of a plane, and being cool with taking on the system.
The Running Man is a passable blockbuster, but just can’t outrun it’s messy, bad third act. The film can’t seem to decide if it’s a campy 80s throwback action flick or a commentary on social media and revolution – and those two visions don’t mesh in this one. Powell’s leading man charm is still a factor, but hopefully the actor can finally find a more worthy signature role in another franchise.
Score: 3 out 5