Don’t fully give in to subzero buzz; this remake lacks dynamo but is still a cinematic fireball.
Out this weekend is one of my most anticipated movies of the year; as Edgar Wright – one of the best directors alive – serves up his remake of a beloved, moderately campy sci-fi Arnold Schwarzenegger action classic from 1987, The Running Man.
Both versions of the film feature a storyline centered on protagonist Ben Richards, who gets suckered into appearing on the murderous game show The Running Man, in which contestants try to evade professional tracker-killers, known as the Hunters, in hot pursuit.
Wright’s new version is quite different from the 1987 film, beginning with its protagonist. Rather than being a framed prisoner, this Ben Richards (Glen Powell) is a down-on-his-luck dad trying to provide for his family, especially his sick infant in desperate need of medical care. With no other employment avenues available, he makes the fateful decision to appear on The Running Man.
And whereas the 1987 version had Arnold Schwarzenegger ducking and dodging through an enclosed studio backlot, this new film expands the playing field to the open world, allowing for new settings and vehicular action sequences.
These changes come not only in the interest of expanding on the concept, but in faithfulness to the original novel which, to his credit, Wright follows much more closely. The novel was originally attributed to author Richard Bachman, which was a pseudonym used by Stephen King in the late 70s and early 80s for his “off brand” novels that didn’t line up to his usual emphasis on horror and suspense. By the time the 1987 film released, his secret was out but the film nevertheless maintained the original attribution. This time around, it’s conceptually a little more straightforward: an Edgar Wright adaptation of a Stephen King novel.
There’s plenty to enjoy here. Powell is an interesting and likeable hero, projecting different and complex feelings of anger and frustration with humor and charm, both genuinely and in playing things up for a TV audience. The film’s got tons of action and a terrific cast, many of them going big in the spirit of the story: Josh Brolin as the show’s slimy producer, and Colman Domingo as its flashy host (these separate characters were combined in the 1987 adaptation), and Michael Cera as a surprisingly effective ally who shows up for the film’s zaniest action sequences. The film also has a ton of wonderful character actors, both familiar and up-and-coming, in supporting roles: William H. Macy, Emilia Jones, Katy O’Brian, Lee Pace, David Zayas, Sean Hayes, Jayme Lawson, Karl Glusman, and Martin Herlihy, and Daniel Ezra, among others.
Overall I found the film totally enjoyable as its own thing, but it’s kind of hard not to draw comparisons. Gone are the fun campy themed Hunters (Subzero, Buzzsaw, Captain Freedom, etc), replaced by generic evil masked militia dudes with guns – though I can somewhat appreciate this as an exact representation of ICE. Unfortunately most of the film’s recycled social commentary doesn’t feel as fresh – critiquing scummy reality TV, the surveillance state, and an oppressive government isn’t as futuristic and precognitive in a modern reality where our administration is openly fascist and led by a shitty reality TV personality.
I feel the villains should be more evil to reflect the times, but if anything, this time around they seem less so than in the prior film: Richards and the other contestants are playing voluntarily, and while Killian is definitely evil in the sense of corporate greed and intense manipulation, he’s open about the game’s unforgiving design and it seems like he would hold up the agreement if Richards wins – he won’t, because the game is designed to be unwinnable, but if he did, this Killian seems like he would deliver on the terms of the contract – even if only because it would be good for his ratings.
The film also feels muted as an Edgar Wright film, and his Hollywood career continues to feel secondary to the fresh style, hilarious antics, creative editing, and pop-culture fuel of his earlier films, especially the British-flavored Cornetto Trilogy of Shaun of the Dead, Hot Fuzz, and The World’s End. As much as I enjoyed The Running Man – and I did enjoy it! – it feels like a down-the-middle American actioner with no particular authorial stamp. There are some small flourishes and gags, including a specific reference that places the film in the Stephen King universe, but if you told me it was directed by, say, David Ayer, Renny Harlin, or Len Wiseman, I wouldn’t question it. But I would consider it among their best.
The Running Man is worth catching, and like its closest theatrical competitor Predator: Badlands, it’s a terrific choice for sci-fi or action at the theater this weekend. It just falls a little short of my expectations for what I expect from one of my favorite living directors.
A/V Out
