The Running Man (United States/United Kingdom, 2025)

First thing’s first: this is not a remake of the 1987 film of the same name starring Arnold Schwarzenegger. The two are connected only insofar as each claims to be an adaptation of the 1982 Stephen King novel. In the case of the first movie, similarities were almost incidental. Once Schwarzenegger came on board, the screenplay was rewritten to suit him, resulting in a more straightforward, action-oriented story. It preserved some of the novel’s social commentary about the power of the media to hypnotize and control and kept a few of the plot points (including the main character’s name) but the deviations were stark. The 2025 version, helmed by Edgar Wright, hews close to the book’s storyline (at least until a major 11th-hour deviation that implodes the ending), but somehow isn’t appreciably better than the earlier film—just different.

One could argue that Wright sticks too close to the source material. The script, which he co-wrote with Michael Bacall from an earlier Bacall draft, is wildly uneven, with some great cliffhanger action sequences peppering a plodding, meandering storyline that plays about a half-hour too long. Worse still, the gut-punch ending of King’s novel is reworked through the lens of mass accessibility. Steven E. de Souza, who penned the 1987 adaptation, once remarked that the book was unfilmable as-is and explained his alterations as necessary to prevent a commercial disaster. One guesses that, at least to a degree, Wright and Bacall may have reached the same conclusion.

The narrative picks up in a future dystopian United States where the president is a figurehead; the real power lies with an all-powerful media network run by the flamboyant, amoral Dan Killian (Josh Brolin), who cares more about ratings than anyone or anything. His empire is the ultimate distillation of the “if it bleeds, it leads” philosophy. When a down-on-his-luck, unemployed man named Ben Richards (Glen Powell) enters his sphere of influence, Killian sees potential for a ratings bonanza. Ben is at a try-out because his previous pro-union efforts have caused him to be blacklisted and he can’t find a legitimate job. His daughter is sick and, to afford her meds, his wife, Shiela (Jayme Lawson), has taken work as an escort. Killian hand-picks Ben for the gladiatorial game show The Running Man, where contestants have only one goal: survive for 30 days while being hunted by Evan McCone (Lee Pace) and his band of elite trackers. Average viewers can get involved (and get paid) by informing on him. From the beginning, the odds are stacked against Ben, but as the game progresses, Killian’s instincts about Ben’s popularity are proven correct.

Normally, when one thinks of Edgar Wright, words like “energetic” and “cheeky” come to mind. For whatever reason—except when Michael Cera is around, which isn’t nearly often enough—that isn’t the case here. Many of the problems originate with the overlong screenplay (for which Wright gets partial credit), but there are directorial missteps as well. At times, the film suffocates on its own seriousness. The 1987 movie was cheesy fun. This one isn’t cheesy, but it’s not a lot of fun, either.

Is Glen Powell miscast? Hard to say. I’ve liked him in almost all his recent roles, from the rom-com Anyone But You to the Top Gun sequel and the Twister reboot. He normally oozes charisma. Although his acting is fine in The Running Man, that defining quality is largely absent. His performance, like his character, feels too generic. Likewise, although Josh Brolin and Colman Domingo have their flamboyant moments, neither comes close to being as memorable as Richard Dawson (who played an amalgamation of those characters in the earlier film).

The Running Man clearly arrives with a social-commentary agenda, but one might reasonably wonder whether we’ve moved beyond a time when the message feels prescient. Just as the 1987 movie was often compared to Death Race 2000, this version invites comparisons to The Hunger Games and especially Black Mirror. There really isn’t much that feels new, and the film’s themes about societal rot resulting from obsessive media consumption now seem almost dated because that’s simply our reality.

The Running Man functions as a fairly mediocre pre-Thanksgiving appetizer but, whatever it may be, it’s not a turkey. There are moments when the movie gets an occasional jolt, but Wright proves unable to sustain the momentum. One of the sassiest touches is how the film finds a way to pay homage to Schwarzenegger. Given some of the dubious decisions made in crafting the 1987 film, there was ample opportunity to make vast improvements. Unfortunately, this Running Man fails to take advantage and, while stumbling on approach to the finish line, it trips and falls in the final moments.

The Running Man (United States/United Kingdom, 2025)