The Running Man (2025) Review
It can’t be a good sign that, in recent years, stories about the deadly competitions desperate people will resort to in order to win money (or some other prize) have become a sub-genre of their own. Admittedly, this is far from a new concept, and some projects with this very premise are based on source material from decades ago. Still, between The Hunger Games, Squid Game, and The Long Walk, you can’t deny that this idea is having a bit of a moment.
Luckily, the latest entry in this ever-expanding canon, Edgar Wright’s The Running Man, is such a blast that you’re almost able to forget how distressingly timely it is – almost. Of course, if you forgot completely, then that would kind of render the whole movie pointless.
Based on the Stephen King novel of the same name (just like the aforementioned Long Walk), The Running Man imagines a dystopian future where the class divide between the wealthy and the impoverished has become a chasm so wide, cities have erected borders between each economic group. It is in the slums of Co-Op City where Ben Richards (Glen Powell) resides with his family, an area clogged with cramped apartment buildings, long lines at food banks, and plenty of graffiti slamming the high-powered execs who run the world. Are the timely elements sticking out yet?
When his infant daughter gets sick, Ben, who struggles to find work due to his proud union affiliations and fiery temper, auditions for one of the game shows put on by the all-controlling Network. Most of the games offer up easy cash – just as long as the participants are willing to embarrass and/or hurt themselves, and can beat a likely rigged game.
Unluckily for Ben, he gets cast on The Running Man, the nationwide sensation where three runners are hunted by the entire country. If they can survive for a month, the cash prize is ginormous, but the odds are stacked against them from the very start. As Ben learns early on, The Network loves to control their narratives, and there’s no easier way to get all of America out for blood than to paint someone as a free-loading, murderous deadbeat.
There’s a lot to process here, with Wright and his co-writer Michael Bacall attempting to hit on a number of side characters and critical themes throughout Ben’s journey, which takes him across several states as he races to stay ahead of The Network’s Hunters. The leader of that vicious group is Lee Pace’s masked McCone, who proves a formidable figure even when his entire face is hidden.
Wright has spoken about how his version of The Running Man is more faithful to King’s novel than the prior 1987 film starring Arnold Schwarzenegger (who has a clever little cameo here). As yours truly has yet to read the book, I can’t speak to its faithfulness. What I can say is that the story is stuffed, and Wright brings plenty of visual flair and over-the-top energy. For the best combination of those exact elements, look no further than the standout sequence at a tricked-out safe house inhabited by Michael Cera’s gleefully rebellious Elton.
The slight downside to Wright’s go-for-broke approach – which, in some ways, matches the soapy, addictive nature of actual reality TV – is the sensory overload one could get from trying to keep up. Some of the more subtle horrors of this reality – such as how children are weaponized – run the risk of getting overlooked. You could argue that Wright trusts his audience to catch it all, but recent events have proven some things just aren’t as black-and-white as you’d think.
Anchoring all the spectacle is Powell, who at this point doesn’t really need to prove he’s a bona fide leading man but certainly gives more compelling evidence of it. He depicts Ben’s anger like a live wire, always seconds away from lighting up and getting him into trouble. We feel his resentment and pain keenly, and we root for him every step of the way.
Powell is surrounded by excellent supporting players, from Pace and Cera to Josh Brolin (as the veneered head of The Network) and Colman Domingo (giving his best Caesar Flickerman as The Running Man’s host). Considering how quickly everything moves and how brief some appearances are, it’s pretty impressive that every character gets to make an impression.
It doesn't feel quite right to say The Running Man is escapist entertainment when it feels so devastatingly relevant, but it’s still a good time. If anything, it ends up being an unexpectedly hopeful watch, ultimately serving as a middle-finger-raised rallying cry for the downtrodden and oppressed – just served up with a classic Hollywood sheen.