“The Running Man” (2025) Review
Director: Edgar Wright Screenwriter: Michael Bacall, Edgar Wright Cast: Glen Powell, William H. Macy, Lee Pace, Michael Cera, Emilia Jones, Daniel Ezra, Jayme Lawson, Sean Hayes, Colman Domingo, Josh Brolin Distributor: Paramount Pictures Running Time: 133 min. MPAA: R
It might come as a surprise that director Edgar Wright doesn’t proceed with his familiar rip-roaringness for his adaptation of The Running Man. His usual slick and speedy style of direction and editing, made famous in films like Hot Fuzz and Baby Driver, is not as zippy here, but for good reason. Wright really wants the viewer to recognize the dystopian satire of fusing media manipulation with authoritarian capitalism, and he hits that target hard, even if he has to slam on the brakes and make several stops to shake the audience into understanding.
What makes the film’s hero, Ben Richards (Glen Powell), so enduring is not just his working-class solidarity and family motivations that force him into the violent reality show where people are hunted for a chance to win money. He’s both wise enough to see how these physical challenge games work and human enough to desire brutal revenge. You can play by the rules all you want, but after being screwed over so many times, it’s impossible not to fantasize about slamming an executive’s head into a table.
The problem for Ben is that the Running Man producer, Dan Killian (Josh Brolin), wants that rage. Dan is also cunning enough to see the fury in Dan’s heart that can be easily weaponized and commodified. He doesn’t want to put out this fire, but throw gasoline on it in hopes that onlookers will be happier when it is put out. Holding gas can is the eccentric host, Bobby T (Colman Domingo), playing up not only the flashy allure of humans being hunted, but whipping up the audience with lies about Ben—anything for a good show and ratings. To the network, Ben is only a vessel for the scapegoat mentality of reinforcing capitalism. Unfortunately, he also becomes just as much of a vessel for the viewpoints stressed, called upon to be crafty when lying low, vulgar when addressing cameras, and motivated more by the people around him who bluntly declare their stances. The audience can likely see themselves in the mildly reluctant Ben when societal commentary is as overt as the graffiti.
There’s a careful, measured approach to how Wright proceeds, rarely letting any breakneck action commandeer the film, despite some fantastic sequences of exploding buildings and chaotic car chases. This adherence doesn’t just come in the form of establishing stakes for Ben, but for the various corners of this world. Ben’s travels in eluding the vicious hunters of the game find him seeking help from black market dealers like Mollie (William H. Macy) to inspired underground rebels like Elton (Michael Cera). There is even a level of recognizing the commodification of violence as the Running Man’s celebrity hunter, Evan McCone (Lee Pace), recognizes his place on the chessboard and doesn’t care.
As a feature and flaw of the film, the various perspectives on the grim future of media-rationalized cruelty have been compartmentalized. While this doesn’t give enough time to build momentum for any character outside Ben, it does highlight more detail and the gaps in the wealth of this dystopian setting. The many vignettes showcase the street-level concerns of a struggling black man (Daniel Ezra) and the stuffy nature of a spoiled white woman (Emilia Jones). While the film only follows these individuals for a handful of scenes, Ben’s interactions with them further coat his progression into becoming an ignition for revolution. It also keeps the messaging firmly on point. Hence, you’re not too dazzled by the giddy satire of absurd cereals (Fun Twinks), a ridiculous celebrity lifestyle show (The Americanos), or the Arnold Swartzenagger visual Easter egg. That said, the film will sometimes force itself into action, as when Evan sticks around to watch security forces become brutalized by his house of traps. He spent a lot of time on his Home Alone contraptions, and he’s damn well going to stick around long enough to see them slaughter.
Although Wright sticks closer to Stephen King’s original story, he also puts his own spin on it. The direction is immediate, given that King’s 1982 narrative was set in the distant future of 2025. This is not a cautionary tale; we are living through the moment when the media will capitulate to stoke class division and profit from pain. Reading the room, the film takes a more active role in combating this level of authoritarianism, highlighting the necessity of revolution and which tactics will and won’t work when capitalism can commodify every ounce of our souls. It is no longer satisfying to watch a world succumb to dystopian rule; we want to see what happens when that rule ends, and Wright’s adaptation satisfies that juicy desire by recognizing the novel’s conclusion is not enough.
The Running Man mostly succeeds as a dystopian satire that punches with themes as hard as its brutal action. It’s impressive to see Edgar Wright direct such a big film with unmistakable revolutionary messaging, ensuring the point won’t be glossed over by those who watch Squid Game more as a game show. The themes are not subtle, but they shouldn’t have to be. Considering some dystopian films dare you to find the messaging amid all the theatrics, this movie almost dares you not to see it, making it impossible to twist this towering action picture into mindless popcorn entertainment. If all you wanted out of this film was an escapism-infused reboot of a nostalgic film from the 1980s, I don’t know what to tell you. Maybe go watch the original and pretend the world isn’t burning around you.
