Sets up a wild ride, delivers a righteous misfire.
As a fan of Edgar Wright‘s early work (which has inspired multiple entries in our Film School), it pains me to say this: his adaptation of Stephen King‘s The Running Man is silly, and not in a good way.
The silliest moments aren’t thematic or even foreshadowed, which makes their silliness neither pointed nor funny, just… unmooring, even dissociative. The most earnest moments aren’t thematic or foreshadowed either, which makes them preachy in a generic, first draft kind of way. So if a film’s finesse won’t be found in its substance, then it needs its style to come to the rescue – and this is perhaps the most disappointing part. Style is Edgar Wright’s superpower – yet there isn’t much about The Running Man which feels distinctive, much less his.
These are payoffs with no setups – and, in his early work at least, quirky setups and satisfying payoffs are integral and glorious to Edgar Wright’s storytelling, so they’re especially missed here.
Tonally, The Running Man is all over the place. There’s a lot in the story world to be alternately angry, maniacal, and nihilistic about – but the film swings between these moods without a feeling of control or a clear sense of intention, and its commentary is heavy-handed and not particularly inventive. Again, this is where Edgar Wright’s trademark visual flair would counteract, justify, complement, or perhaps even simply thread together this shamozzle. Sadly, save a couple of blink-and-miss moments, it’s absent here.
Glen Powell as Ben Richards, the angriest, most beautiful poor man in the world, doesn’t hold this vision of The Running Man together. It isn’t his fault: just about every supporting character either makes choices which don’t make sense, or are given prominence, emotional beats, or whole set pieces which feel disproportionate or unearned – again, neither thematic nor foreshadowed. Again, all over the place. Sigh.
Further Viewing
For a better idea of what I’m missing from The Running Man, take a look at Edgar Wright’s process with co-writer Simon Pegg on Shaun of the Dead (2004)…
… and on Hot Fuzz (2007) to see the meticulous planning for the writing on those films:
And of course, there’s Every Frame A Painting‘s breakdown of Edgar Wright’s visual storytelling:
At least film’s publicity gives us new opportunities to hear Edgar Wright chat about movies, as he does here with Simon Mayo, which is always good:
During the pandemic lockdown, Edgar Wright shared a treasure trove of behind-the-scenes from another of his film adaptations, the more singularly-realised Scott Pilgrim vs. the World (2010):