Thirty-eight years later, The Running Man is back, resonating with a world that seems to embrace the original’s absurdity. This new version stars Glen Powell as Ben Richards, a less bulky but still captivating lead. Fired from several jobs for insubordination and caring for a sick toddler, he’s reluctantly thrust into America’s top kill-or-be-killed game show after a producer labels him “quantifiably the angriest man to ever audition.”
The show’s format has changed a bit, too. Instead of battling through video-game-like levels during a TV broadcast, Richards now needs to survive in the real world for 30 days. He’s monitored by hovering TV camera drones, chased by heavily armed “hunters,” private police, and an eager public that uses a special app on their smartphones to track runners. The longer he survives and the more pursuers he takes out, the more cash he earns. He receives cheers (and boos) from a massive audience of mindless fans glued to their screens around the clock. Like Schwarzenegger’s Richards before him, Powell transforms from a villain into a beloved folk hero, stealing the spotlight and boosting the ratings with his antics.
If this sounds familiar, that’s because this new take on The Running Man, co-written and directed by Edgar Wright (Hot Fuzz, Scott Pilgrim vs. the World), draws from the original film and Stephen King’s novel, as well as today’s reality. In a modern-day America run by a game show president, where ICE teams up with Dr. Phil McGraw to turn deportation efforts into reality TV, it feels like the perfect time for a remake. Yet, therein lies the issue: satire depends on exaggeration, and this version barely stretches the truth. Does the concept of a deadly game show feel far-fetched in a world where Netflix’s Squid Game, a variation on The Running Man model, inspired an actual licensed Squid Game-style competitive reality show? Or when a grinning influencer like “MrBeast” offers contestants cash to endure bizarre challenges, like sitting in a bathtub of snakes? Just a few weeks ago, I watched live as rookie New York Giants’ running back Cam Skattebo’s ankle twisted at an alarming angle, with a bar full of rival fans cheering along.
