The Running Man, the latest film from writer/director Edgar Wright, should be the right film for right now. A story about a government with an enemies list that censors personal expression and regularly exploits its underclass. And even more relevant, it uses entertainment to placate the exploited. While on the surface Wright’s adaptation does take a look at this, there’s a sneaking feeling that the film pulls its punches too much, both physically and thematically.
The second adaptation of the Stephen King novel explores a world where the chasm between the one and the ninety-nine percent has become even more enormous. The unemployed Ben Richards (Glenn Powell) needs medicine for his child and so enters The Running Man, the deadliest show on tv. If he lasts 30 days, then he earns a billion dollars. The catch is that nowhere is safe for him. Everywhere is under surveillance, anyone on the street who spots him can report him for cash, and he’s constantly pursued by the show’s ruthless killers: The Hunters.
Like all of his films, Wright’s adaptation draws inspiration from a diverse range of pop culture wells. It’s hard to imagine any other filmmaker making a piece of science fiction that draws equally from Terry Gilliam’s Brazil, Jackie Chan’s Police Story, and even the cult British TV series The Prisoner. This is a film of rampant paranoia. Wright knows how to make a fun thrill ride and The Running Man is no exception.
Anchoring all of this is Glenn Powell as Ben Richards, whose anger at the injustice of the world around him is palpable. Powell built his career in recent years as a likable every man. While he’s likable here, his portrayal of Richards feels like he walks on a razor’s edge between control and rage. This is a man ready to burn down a world that truly screwed him over anytime he did the right thing. It’s easy to believe that he could turn the crowd to cheer him on as he begins to bring down the facade of The Running Man.
However, as engaging as Powell is, it’s Coleman Domingo and Michael Cera who steal the film from him. Domingo’s show host Bobby T oozes charm and charisma. He knows how to work a crowd. Cera on the other hand plays a hilariously twitchy rebel trying to help Richards survive the full thirty days. Like Richards, he’s someone that this world has beat down. However, he might be even more unstable, and seeing him fight back is so much fun.
As much fun as the film is or how much fun the cast is having, one expects a little more from an Edgar Wright film. The action sequences are good, but they’re never impressive. Everything in The Running Man though, outside of the chase in the YVA and the fight on the plane, leaves something to be desired. For an R Rated movie, the violence in this seems rather tame with the exception of a few people set on fire. One would expect more from the director of Scott Pilgrim vs. The World and Baby Driver, two films whose action set pieces truly felt innovative and inspired.
What might be most disappointing is that The Running Man lacks the guts it should have at a moment like this. The script takes some swings at governments and corporations and their willingness to exploit their workforce. The script by Wright and co-writer Michael Bacall though reserves its scorn for a target that seems far easier to tackle than speaking out about actual injustices. Wright’s never been the most political filmmaker. In the year of Eddington and One Battle After Another, one would hope he would’ve used the opportunity to really speak out against the injustices of our present day.
This is Wright’s first big studio film since Scott Pilgrim vs. The World. Between that film’s poor box office and how Marvel kicked him off a project that he spent 8 years developing (Ant-Man), one wonders if those experiences may have broke him a little. Watching The Running Man, while an engaging film, one can’t help but feel this is the work of a more cautious filmmaker. In a time when we should be holding those in charge accountable, one can only be disappointed in cautious filmmaking.
The Running Man is currently playing in theaters.
