Film Reviews & Movie Analysis

Following The Long Walk (2025) another Stephen King dystopia hits the screen. In The Running Man, Glen Powell will do anything to protect his family — except, apparently, seek legitimate anger management therapy so he can stop getting fired? Luckily his blind rage and gym-bod physique makes him the perfect contestant for the nation’s favourite reality television bloodsport, The Running Man.

It’s borderline comical watching Powell attempt a performance fuelled by unquenchable fury, mostly because he looks like a toddler making a pouty lipped frowny face because you’ve taken away his iPad. It’s a strange characteristic for the main character to be this angry especially as he’s irritated by everything except the things we expect a reluctant hero to care about. Revolution? Psh. Justice? Nah. Taking down the man? Not inter— actually yes to this one but only because it fuels his personal revenge.

Thankfully, Coleman Domingo swoops in as the razor-sharp, self-serving show host and effortlessly steals the spotlight and gives this movie some much-needed charisma.

Apparently the shorter the Stephen King novel, the longer the adaptation. At around 200 pages, The Running Man has been stretched 32 minutes longer than its Arnold Schwarzenegger helmed 1987 predecessor. The saving grace is that you don’t feel the bloat of its 133-minute runtime.

The film itself is… fine. It doesn’t say or do anything new, and despite Edgar Wright’s presence behind the camera, the trademark wry wit and energetic flair are noticeably muted. It ticks the boxes, plays it safe, and coasts comfortably on Powell’s current wave of audience adoration — which will either reassure you or have you sprinting for the exit.