Reviews
The Running Man
Edgar Wright is easily one of my favourite working directors today. My journey into wanting to critique films can be traced back to two of his works, Scott Pilgrim vs. the World and Shaun of the Dead. So, as you could probably expect, when I heard he was taking the reins on The Running Man remake, an Arnold Schwarzenegger classic that, thanks to my family, I grew up with, it instantly became one of my most anticipated movies of 2025. So, it gives me immense joy to say that Edgar Wright has yet again exceeded all my expectations, and honestly, should I ever doubt the man again? The wise answer would be probably not.
Instead of taking the easy route and producing a shot-for-shot remake, Wright, alongside fellow screenwriter Michael Bacall, has taken the iconic Stephen King novel and adapted it in their own way. The result is a cutting narrative that shines through its phenomenal anti-authoritarian themes, with story choices that are brave, topical, and will inevitably strike too close to home for many in modern-day Western society, particularly those in the United States. This may come as a surprise to many, as it certainly did for me, because a wild dystopian story like this should not, for one second, feel so strikingly relatable to the here and now. Unfortunately, that is the sad reality we are living in.
The movie is set in a near-future American society where barbaric television competitions force the poorest citizens to risk everything just to make ends meet. The Running Man has become the most popular of the lot, where “Runners” enter the game with the promise of unbelievable cash prizes if they can survive 30 days being hunted by professional killers. If that was not bad enough, members of the public can also earn rewards for providing live updates of Runners’ locations. Thanks to media manipulation, the vast majority do so eagerly, as the Runners are painted as the very worst society has to offer.
Up steps the movie’s protagonist, Ben Richards (Glen Powell). A working-class man in Slumside, the dystopian desert home to the country’s poorest citizens, Ben lives in a place where economic disparity has never been more extreme. His daughter is gravely ill, and with him blacklisted from every corporate job and his wife (Jayme Lawson) already working every possible hour, Ben has no choice but to enter one of the ruthless TV games. His walk to the studio, leaving Slumside for the city, is the first of many startling sequences that capture the shocking class divide of this society, which increasingly resembles the Western world of today.
After a Ninja Warrior-style initiation, delivered through a thoroughly enjoyable montage, the network producers hand-pick which contestants go on which show. The most manipulative of them all is Dan Killian (Josh Brolin), who convinces Ben, alongside two other competitors, that The Running Man offers their only chance to improve their lives. He cruelly leverages Ben’s family to ensure he signs up, highlighting the ruthless calculus behind the game.
Once in the competition, Richards finds himself fighting to survive every second, while the show’s host, Bobby T (Colman Domingo), stirs the baying crowd into a frenzy, eager for blood. Like The Long Walk earlier this year, The Running Man captures society’s dehumanisation impeccably, portraying billions cheering at every drop of human blood on enormous screens. The spectacle of survival is horrifying, enthralling, and unnervingly relatable.
The movie is invigorated by thrilling action sequences and astounding visuals as Richards dodges the Hunters, led by the terrifying Evan McCone (Lee Pace), navigates gut-wrenching betrayals, and confronts systemic corruption that treats him as a pawn in a much larger game, something that becomes increasingly apparent as the story unfolds. Throughout his fight to survive, he uncovers the vast depths of mass media manipulation, from the networks to the government, designed to conceal social inequality and distract the public, revealing a society where the poor are reduced to cannon fodder for the rich’s entertainment. By the end, Richards is no longer just a contestant fighting for survival, he has become a symbol of resistance against a system that commodifies human life itself.
There is so much to love about The Running Man as it races through its surprisingly long 133-minute runtime. Edgar Wright does not hold back, throwing jab after jab with his impeccable humour, creating a compelling political satire at times, with some characters offering a startlingly realistic depiction of modern-day politicians and their mission to influence and even control mainstream media to shape society’s thinking. It is this humour that is the most surprising and perhaps the best element of the entire movie, with Michael Cera’s brief cameo being masterful and delivering the single best line of the film. The delivery of “I like my bacon extra crispy” may just be the finest one-liner of the year.
The casting across the board is perfection. Glen Powell is ideal for the leading role, delivering a sensational performance that proves he is more than capable of carrying an action movie on his shoulders. Josh Brolin, as the main antagonist, is captivating and powerful throughout, dominating almost every scene he appears in. And Colman Domingo, what can’t this man do? He is an absolute scene-stealer, magnetic and mesmerising every time he is on screen. The same can be said for every single supporting character, each adding their own distinctive touch of magic, with a shoutout to Emilia Jones, who takes a little time to appear but is absolutely worth the wait.
While the ending does not quite reach the extreme heights of the rest of the movie, perhaps because it feels like it is aiming to be grander and more profound, it is still extremely satisfying. Some may argue it leans toward the predictable, but the journey to get there is wildly entertaining and one of the most fun experiences I have had at the cinema this year. One thing is for sure, when Edgar Wright directs a film, you better be seated, because it is banger after banger after banger.
