‘The Running Man’ review: Edgar Wright’s bombastic Stephen King adaptation doesn’t go the distance

Dir: Edgar Wright. UK/US. 2025. 133mins

Nearly 40 years after the original adaptation of Stephen King’s 1982 novel, Edgar Wright serves up his long-awaited take on The Running Man. This updated story of an ordinary man who becomes a contestant in a televised, to-the-death game of hide and seek raises the stakes – and the budget – and features some propulsive set pieces and a starry turn from Glen Powell. Wright skews closer to King’s original vision but, just as with the 1987 Arnold Schwarzenegger vehicle, eschews any real social commentary in favour of bombastic action.

Runs out of steam before it makes any lasting impact

The film’s star power alone should be enough to attract the crowds when it rolls out worldwide from November 11 – Powell is joined by Josh Brolin, Colman Domingo, William H Macy,  Michael Cera and Emilia Jones. And Wright’s fans should also be out in force, even if this Hollywood blockbuster is a far more polished, by-the-numbers affair than the more organic Cornetto Trilogy (Shaun Of The Dead, Hot Fuzz, At World’s End) that made his name, and has less of the personality of other works like Scott Pilgrim Vs The World, Baby Driver or Last Night In Soho.

King’s novel (written under the pen name of Richard Bachman) was set in 2025 (the Arnie pic placed the action in 2017), and now the screenplay from Wright and Michael Bacall (21 Jump Street, Scott Pilgrim Vs The World) moves the narrative to an unspecified dystopian near future. Impressively textured, unavoidably Bladerunner-esque production design from Marcus Rowland combines the recognisable – gleaming cityscapes, grimy slums, self-driving vehicles – with more futuristic ideas, such as drone-powered mailboxes.

After the collapse of the world’s economy, US society is firmly divided into the haves and have-nots, fences and border guards keeping the two well apart. Ben Richards (Powell) is very firmly a have-not. Unlike in the 1987 version, which reimagined the protagonist as an army hero taking the fall for a civilian massacre, this Ben is a decent man simply trying to provide for his wife (barely-seen Sinners star Jayme Lawson) and infant child. Desperate to get medicine for his sick daughter, Ben heads to ‘The Network’ – an omnipotent broadcasting corporation which now owns the media, the police and the government, and so controls the social narrative – to try out for their raft of expolitative game shows.

Ben is selected for the top-rated show ‘The Running Man’, which sees contestants attempt to survive for 30 days while being pursued to the death by both professional hunters – headed by the growling, balaclava-wearing Captain McCone (Lee Pace) – and ordinary citizens. Survivors can win up to $1bn ‘New Dollars’ (the bills have Arnie’s face on them). Show creator Dan Killian (Brolin) sees in Ben’s anger and defiance the makings of a ratings smash, and so the game – which is already corrupt – is skewed against him from the start. But that proves no hurdle for Ben, who slowly becomes something of a hero for the downtrodden masses – and, perhaps, an instigator for genuine revolution.

The extraordinary behaviour of ordinary people is a theme which fuels much of King’s work, and The Running Man has a great deal in common with The Long Walk – another dystopian story about desperate men attempting to win a heinous contest of survival, recently adapted by Francis Lawrence. But whereas Lawrence’s film dug into the political nuances of this social set-up, and the psychology of those on both sides of the divide – and was all the more impactful for it – here, these potentially more interesting corners have been shaved off to make way for an easily-digestible popcorn actioner.

Despite the appearance of Macy as an underground activist, Cera as a foolhardy revolutionary (who lives in Derry Road, Maine, one of several Easter Eggs for King fans) and Jones as a ditzy, blinkered citizen who is forced to realise the error of her ways, the film’s eat-the-rich satire just doesn’t cut deep enough. Characters on both sides are bluntly drawn, while resonant, horrifying ideas such as AI manipulation and corporate corruption are ultimately played for spectacle.

There is undoubtedly enjoyment to be had in watching Ben escape the hunters, although this muscular, tenacious action hero is far from the ‘everyday everyman’ of the novel. Elsewhere, Colman Domingo is scene-stealingly vivacious as ‘Running Man’ host Bobby Thompson, the actor effectively mining the character’s glitzy duplicity. Brolin is clearly having a ball playing Killian as a drawling pantomime villain, who has an almost religious belief in the bastions of wealth and privilege. And as Ben’s fellow runner Laughlin, Katy O’Brian (Twisters, Love Lies Bleeding) is an underused riot; she could have made for a fantastic lead.

As Ben survives against the odds for days and then weeks, getting out of increasingly dangerous scenarios – in one memorable scene, abseiling down a building dressed only in a towel – and buoyed by Steven Price’s pounding score, the story’s intriguing socio-political backdrop begins to blur and the film ends up playing like another Bond / Mission: Impossible mashup. This Running Man could have been a powerful anarchist fable for our turbulent times but fun as it is, it runs out of steam before making any lasting impact.