Over the past six decades, the works of Stephen King have been adapted countless times, with wildly varied results. 2025 has been a banner year with successful adaptations. From Mike Flanagan’s The Life of Chuck to The Long Walk and, most recently, It: Welcome To Derry, it’s been an abundance of riches for King fans.
As 2025 winds down, its final King adaptation was easily my most anticipated: The Running Man.
Pairing Edgar Wright and Glen Powell together felt like a match made in cinema heaven. Coupled with Wright’s promise of a more faithful take on King’s novel, rather than a rehash of the 1987 Arnold Schwarzenegger vehicle, The Running Man had all the makings of a top-tier 2025 King adaptation.
As with life, The Running Man is a frustrating experience. While Wright’s hyper-charged energy is on full display and Powell’s star continues to shine bright, its tedious run time and lack of fruitful payoff lead to an underwhelming, deflating cinematic affair.
Set in a grim near future where entertainment and survival collide, The Running Man centers on Ben Richards, a working-class man driven to enter the ruthless and barbaric show that turns human desperation into primetime spectacle. In an effort to save his ailing daughter and attain a better life for his family, Richards defiance captures not just the public’s attention but reveals cracks in the system.
Edgar Wright and Michael Bacall take King’s work and craft a script rich with anti-authoritarian ideas. However, when it comes time to pay them off, the screenplay fails to deliver a truly profound message. It’s unfortunate, because there’s plenty of thematic meat left on the bone; the film never fully digs into its scathing critique of commercialism, politics, and our obsession with reality TV. When it leans into its satirical edge, though, The Running Man works best.
Carrying the film is Glen Powell. Delivering a pure adrenaline-fueled movie-star performance, Powell’s charm and magnetism are on full display as he brings The Running Man’s chaos to life. Coleman Domingo and Michael Cera are scene stealers, while Josh Brolin feels wasted as a cookie-cutter corporate villain.
While Chung Chung-hoon’s cinematography doesn’t reach the heights of his work on The Handmaiden or even Last Night in Soho, his lens still elevates the film’s action set pieces, which stand as its true visual highlights. Steven Price’s score, however, underwhelms, lacking the tension and personality to fully complement Wright’s kinetic direction.
Watching it through the lens of a blockbuster or piece of popcorn entertainment, The Running Man delivers enough energy, style, and star power to keep audiences engaged. Wright’s direction and Glen Powell’s undeniable charisma give the film a pulse, but beneath the surface lies a story that never fully capitalizes on its deeper ideas. What should have been a biting reflection on our obsession with fame, control, and spectacle instead settles for a safe ride. As a crowd-pleaser, it works; as a Stephen King adaptation with something unique to say, it stops short of crossing the finish line.
