By Matthew Moorcroft

Weak Recommendation

• Directed by Edgar Wright
• Starring Glen Powell, Michael Cera, Colman Domingo, Josh Brolin
• R

Taking another stab at adapting one of Stephen King’s most provocative novels, The Running Man takes it’s title almost entirely literally as it hits the ground at top speed and never really slows down for a minute. It makes sense then that Edgar Wright – a director known for his flashy, fast paced cutting and heavy stylization – would be attracted to this material. And as early as the first scene, which shows our lead Ben Richards (played by the ever likable Glen Powell) trying in vain to keep his job to support his family in a time when more and more people are resorting to dangerous measures to earn cash.

It’s a shame then that, while The Running Man isn’t exactly a complete wash of a film, it feels strangely compromised and scaled back, which is unusual for Wright and his normal proclivity towards keeping things as snappy, as dynamic, and as engaging as possible. There is definitely some of that here for sure, particularly in it’s action sequences and a couple of great moments early on once Ben Richards does enter the titular game show itself, but The Running Man instead opts to play it mostly relatively safe, which only serves to highlight the otherwise dated nature of the premise and it’s script which jumps around from sequence to sequence, character to character and struggles to maintain a clear focus for the majority of it’s runtime.

Despite that dystopian setting and relevant themes, The Running Man ultimately does feel like it’s stuck in the 80s tonally and thematically. Wright and Bacall’s script is mostly faithful to the original text, albeit clearing leaning into it’s satire more then it’s darker attributes, and this does make the film shine in the sections with Colman Domingo’s infectious and charismatic Bobby Thompson or Michael Cera’s rebellious Elton. While never tongue in cheek or played strictly for laughs, there is a clear jovial attitude here in it’s heightened reality that never feels too unrealistic but also is just absurd enough remain entertaining. Unlike something like The Long Walk prior in the year, which leaned into grim, bleak hopelessness, The Running Man feels like a romp in comparison, wanting to be a crowd pleaser that just happens to have a little bit of a political edge.

Does it entirely work? I’m not really sure, and that battle between it’s action movie roots and it’s more satirical, political commentary reaches a climax in a third act that feels like it becomes a completely different movie for the worse. The Running Man, ironically, runs out of steam the further it goes, it’s already wearing thin thematics completely ironed out in favor of a bombastic climax that’s more of a showcase for the otherwise impressive action chops of Powell, who is desperately trying to find something to latch onto with a character who is never truly fully defined. Richards is whatever the script needs him to be at the time, whether it be an angry everyman, a rebellious anarchist, a jock who just wants the money, a family man with a heart of gold, or even just an action stunt man who evades the militarized cops. Powell is likable in the role due to his own innate movie star charisma – which is a rare breed nowadays – but it’s that lack of script cohesion that affects all aspects of his character as well as the rest of the narrative.

Wright maintains a strong sense of geography and creativity for his action sequences, thankfully, which stop the movie from crumbling underneath the half-baked script and ideas. If anything, The Running Man is a great “turn your brain off” film, with each major setpiece bringing something new and keeping things moving that “running” momentum it so clearly wants to maintain. A break-in into a mansion – a sequence led by Cera’s impeccable turn here as the clear supporting standout – is a great example of this as Wright uses every trick in his large arsenal and it’s a blast to watch. But it’s also brief and contained, and Cera, like a good chunk of the supporting players, disappears after his chunk of the story is done. It’s one and done, and then Richards has to move on to the next challenge.

It’s that fractured, disjointed nature of the story that makes it’s final 10 minutes – a hodge podge of ideas and epilogues that feel like the studio had multiple endings and didn’t know which one to pick – nearly sink the entire affair. It’s refusal to adapt the original book ending is mildly understandable, as it’s a bleak and wildly insane ending that would immediately turn off audiences, but I can’t imagine this confusing mess of images is much better.

Honestly The Running Man is probably better then I’m making it sound, as in the moment it’s a lot of fun and contains some really great bits of action, tension, and some solid one liners that make this feel right at home, oddly enough, with the original Schwarzenegger adaptation despite this film owing more to the source then that version’s loose interpretation. But I also can’t help but feel that, considering Wright’s prior track record, that The Running Man feels like another step backwards for the director; a compromised vision for a film that could have clearly used some more unique touches throughout rather then just in bursts. I miss the old Edgar.