Review: The Running Man – Running on empty
Directed by Edgar Wright
Starring Glen Powell, Josh Brolin, Colman Domingo, Emilia Jones
6/10
Full disclosure, I’ve been an Edgar Wright fan since Spaced (1999). If the man can reenact Robocop, The Empire Strikes Back, and The Matrix on a UK sitcom budget, then I have no doubt he can top the ‘80s version given a proper budget. Well, if I’m honest, one doubt. The last time he tried science fiction it turned out to be his worst film, ending the Cornetto Trilogy with a damp squib, but surely the same thing can’t happen twice? Right?
Right?
Blacklisted for talking to a union representative, Ben Richards (Glen Powell), finds himself in desperate need of money to buy medication for his sick daughter. He takes the only option left to get enough money, a psychotic game show known as The Running Man. A show where the contestants are hunted for a month, earning cash prizes for their continued survival and taking out the hunters. However, the show’s producer (Josh Brolin) sees potential in Richards and starts to formulate his own plans.
The Running Man is a far cry from the ‘80s beefcake action of its previous incarnation, cleaving closer to the original Stephen King novel (under his Richard Bachman pseudonym). It attempts to make Richards more of a struggling everyman (rather than an Austrian übermensch), fuelled by anger at the class inequality that’s forced him into this deadly game, and relying on a tough skillset learnt through crappy blue-collar jobs. It also makes the message about media control of a passive, downtrodden majority more explicit. In this it often overplays its hand, leading to heavy-handed character monologue.
Somehow this film lacks Wright’s trademark style, with the verve and rhythm that punctuates his films mostly missing. His distinctive cadence returns in spurts for the large action set pieces but curiously seems lacking in the finale, leaving a disappointing climax. That’s not to say The Running Man lacks directorial flair, but rather it seems more workman-like than his usual showmanship.
The script also drags a bit as it mostly sticks to King’s initial plot (albeit changing the ending due to post-9/11considerations). Here it fails to “stick the landing,” giving us contradictory messages. In part, the message it’s conveying is actually paradoxical, calling for societal rage and revolution while warning of the limitations of personal rage. Yet in its drawn-out denouement, the film tries to have it both ways, drawing more attention to the conflict rather than resolving it.
All of this sounds damning, and The Running Man isn’t totally without charm. Powell makes a decent angry everyman, who just wants to work his 9-5 and enjoy his family time. His barely concealed disdain for authority and privilege is a joy to behold. On the other side of the coin is Brolin’s slick producer, bringing a manipulative charm to proceedings along with cold menace. Yet at the end of the day, two solid performances aren’t enough to carry the show.
In an era where media ownership is consolidating and aligning with corporate and government interests, The Running Man should be a potent vessel to speak truth to power. However, as it stands, it’s a heavy-handed and thinly stretched-out piece, a surprising disappointment from a director with real talent.
DAVID O’CONNELL