“The Running Man” Starts Strong but Runs on Empty (Movie Review)

“The Running Man” is the second high-profile cinematic adaptation this year of a science-fiction story by Stephen King, written under his pen name Richard Bachman, following Francis Lawrence’s superb “The Long Walk.” This film boasts a substantially larger budget, high-wattage star power in the form of leading man Glen Powell, and a bona fide modern auteur behind the camera — Edgar Wright.

It’s for all these reasons, and more, that while “The Running Man” is solid and routinely entertaining, I couldn’t help but feel a little underwhelmed as the credits rolled. It’s a well-crafted film with some incredibly staged action sequences, a strong undercurrent of tension running through most of its runtime, exemplary performances, and some striking cinematic flourishes. And yet, it somehow never quite coalesces into a whole greater than the sum of its parts.

TOP 5 THINGS ABOUT “THE RUNNING MAN”

5. The Script Works… Until it Doesn’t

Taking a more measured, grounded, and faithful approach to the source material than Paul Michael Glaser’s 1987, chaos-fueled version starring Arnold Schwarzenegger, this adaptation of The Running Man manages to tap into the eerily prescient elements of King’s original novel with far greater precision. The script—co-written by Edgar Wright and frequent collaborator Michael Bacall—balances those established ideas with sharp sociopolitical commentary of its own, all while packaging everything within a lean, propulsive action-thriller framework.

All of that works beautifully through the first two acts, which are supremely thrilling and tightly constructed. However, by the film’s midpoint, the pacing starts to lag, and the narrative structure begins to feel slightly disjointed. The finale centers on a genuinely exciting action set piece, but it takes a somewhat clunky path to get there—one that undercuts much of the tension, emotional weight, and impact built earlier in the story. The conclusion also shifts into a more straightforward, self-serious tone that feels heavier and more on-the-nose than necessary, diluting the sharper, more nuanced thematic explorations that defined the film’s earlier stretches.

4. The Supporting Cast

The Running Man is stacked with capital-G Great performers in both supporting and bit roles—and nearly all of them shine. It’s a film packed with scene-stealers, to the point where, if the lead actor weren’t as commanding as Glen Powell, the ensemble could easily have pulled focus away from the central character. Thankfully, Powell more than holds his own, allowing everyone around him to flourish without disrupting the film’s balance.

In smaller roles, Katy O’Brien and Michael Cera stand out as particular highlights—both are electric, delivering performances that radiate energy and personality in completely different ways. Cera, in particular, feels like he’s entering a fascinating new phase of his career; between The Phoenician Scheme and this, he’s exploring more eccentric, layered territory, and it’s a thrill to watch.

Among the bigger parts, Josh Brolin is delightfully menacing, his grin of faux-teeth masking a performance that’s equal parts intimidating and darkly funny. Meanwhile, Colman Domingo practically steals the show with his over-the-top charisma, chewing through Wright’s hammy, reality-TV-host dialogue with glorious precision. It’s the kind of performance you could watch for an extra hour without complaint—just wonderful, unfiltered fun.

3. Edgar, I Love You

I love Edgar Wright. In the 2000s and 2010s, he was one of the defining filmmakers of his generation in my eyes — a meticulous visual stylist whose work balanced humor, emotion, and pure cinematic verve. I’ve always placed him alongside someone like Wes Anderson: a director whose movies feel instantly identifiable, bursting with personality and precision. Shaun of the Dead remains a classic, Hot Fuzz is one of the greatest comedies ever made, and Scott Pilgrim vs. the World still stands as the best video game movie of all time.

That’s why it pains me a bit to say that it’s been over a decade since I truly loved a new Edgar Wright film — and I was really hoping The Running Man would change that. Sadly, it didn’t. Don’t get me wrong, I liked the film quite a bit. It’s stylish, entertaining, and occasionally flashes that signature Wright magic. But it never feels like a passion project. Instead, it comes across more like a studio-driven assignment that he was brought in to steer effectively rather than something he poured his heart into.

Visually, it’s surprisingly muted — a grey, desaturated palette replaces the vivid, kinetic look that defined his earlier work. There are even some oddly flat, compressed digital shots that feel uncharacteristic for a director known for dynamic, expressive cinematography. Narratively, it also stumbles in a few key areas: the kind of rhythmic setups and satisfying payoffs Wright usually nails just don’t land as cleanly here.

Is it fair to criticize the film because it didn’t live up to my lofty expectations? Probably not — that’s on me, not on Wright or the movie. But still, I can’t help feeling a little disappointed. For a filmmaker who once made every frame pulse with purpose and passion, The Running Man feels more like a well-crafted exercise than a labor of love.

2. Glen Powell: Leading Man

The lead role of Ben Richards is a fascinatingly unconventional one — an almost anti-heroic protagonist who’s overtly aggressive, impulsive, and, at times, downright unlikable. Yet beneath that rough exterior lies a genuine sense of conviction and moral grounding. We first meet Ben in a moment of raw fury, in what might be one of my favorite classic Edgar Wright shots in the entire film — a visceral, visually charged introduction that sets the tone perfectly.

What makes it all work is Glen Powell’s layered, deeply committed performance. A lesser actor might have softened Ben’s edges, downplaying the manic rage and chaotic energy in favor of a more palatable portrayal. But doing that would’ve stripped away what makes the character — and the story — so compelling. Powell instead embraces Ben’s volatility, off-kilter charm, and unhinged intensity, grounding them with just enough humanity and emotional truth to keep us on his side.

It’s a tricky balance to pull off, but Powell nails it. His performance gives the film a pulse — a sense of danger and unpredictability that never lets up. On top of that, his physicality in the action sequences is genuinely impressive; he performs much of the stunt work himself, and it shows. The result is action that feels tactile, immediate, and alive — further proof that Powell isn’t just a charismatic presence, but a full-fledged leading man with real range.

1. The Hotel Setpiece

The part of The Running Man that sticks with me most is the film’s first act — specifically, the beginning of Ben’s “run.” Narratively, thematically, and visually, this stretch of the movie is where everything clicks. Wright and his team capture the escalating paranoia and dread of Ben’s situation with remarkable precision, pulling us right into the chaos of his world.

It all builds toward one of the movie’s standout moments: the hotel siege. It’s the film’s best action sequence by far — concise, kinetic, and charged with character at every turn. The pacing is razor-sharp, the tension palpable, and the choreography feels raw and immediate without ever losing emotional focus.

The sequence also highlights two key behind-the-scenes talents firing on all cylinders: Paul Machliss’ editing, which is some of his best work to date, and Chung-hoon Chung’s stunning cinematography. The way Chung lights the exterior of the hotel — with rich, moody tones and just the right amount of grit — gives the whole scene a decadent, immersive texture that perfectly captures Wright’s vision at its peak.

RGM GRADE

(B-)

Overall, I enjoyed The Running Man quite a bit — even if I found myself wishing I could love it. With a tighter, more focused third act, this easily could’ve been one of the greats. Still, it’s an undeniably well-crafted film that showcases plenty of Edgar Wright’s strengths, even if it doesn’t reach the heights of his earlier work.

There’s something almost poetic about the fact that both Stephen King sci-fi adaptations this year have stumbled in their final acts — a recurring critique often directed at King’s own storytelling. It’s fitting, in a way, and maybe even part of the charm.

Here’s hoping this movie performs well enough to give Wright the creative runway to make another full-blown passion project next — something wild, weird, and unmistakably him. Because when Wright’s at his best, there’s truly no one else like him.