The Running Man review: a neon sprint that finally cares why he runs
If you grew up on VHS rentals and Friday-night explosions, this one hits a nerve. The new take on The Running Man doesn't just chase nostalgia - it chases a reason to care.
Key takeaways
- The remake, directed by Edgar Wright (movies and tv series), sticks closer to Stephen King (movies and tv series)'s novella.
- Glen Powell (movies and tv series)'s Ben Richards (movies and tv series) has real emotional stakes and vulnerability.
- It's a neon-soaked, kinetic throwback to '80s action - with a modern pulse.
Why this remake matters
The 1987 movie became a cult favorite for its wild villains and bigger-than-life swagger, but it skimmed past the heart of the story. This version brings the humanity back. You still get spectacle - just not at the expense of motive.
For fans of classic action, that balance matters. You can enjoy the ride and still feel something when it ends.
Closer to Stephen King's original
Wright's film shifts the focus back to Stephen King's (via Richard Bachman) setup: Ben Richards is forced into a televised death game and hunted by state-backed killers for 30 days. The dystopia is louder and flashier, sure, but the why is clear this time.
Powell's Richards isn't invincible. He's bruised, cornered, and making choices that feel painfully human. That clarity changes the whole experience.
Edgar Wright's rhythm - with sharper edges
Wright dials down the comedy and leans into tension, but his fingerprint is unmistakable: snap-edit pacing, visual wit, and needle drops that push the story forward. Think the musical precision of Baby Driver, just grimmer and meaner.
Chases, fights, even quiet beats feel synced to a heartbeat. The movie moves - and you feel it.
Glen Powell steps into Ben Richards
Powell brings charisma without turning Richards into a cartoon hero. He's clever, capable, and yes, still very physical - but he lets the character's doubt and guilt show. It's less about quips, more about survival.
The result is a lead you root for, not just watch.
Retro-futuristic world that feels touchable
The production leans into a lived-in, analog-future vibe: chunky tech, glowing buttons, buzzing CRT monitors. It looks like someone raided a 1986 Radio Shack and weaponized it.
That tactile feel grounds the chaos. It's stylized, but it doesn't feel weightless.
The action: fast, clear, story-first
Once the game starts, the movie barely lifts its foot off the gas. Each environment - alleys, high-rises, wastelands - has its own texture and tempo. And crucially, you can always tell what's happening.
The fights and chases aren't just noise. They push the plot, raise stakes, and keep trust on shaky ground.
Where it stumbles
It runs a little long. Trim 15 minutes and the pacing would sing. A few lines land with a thud, and some beats lean into comic-book logic.
But that loud, slightly absurd tone is part of the point. The movie knows what it is and doesn't apologize for it.
Who will love it - and who won't
If Total Recall, RoboCop, or Escape from New York still live in your head, this scratches that itch with craft and intent. It's brash, weird, and proud of both.
If you prefer your action bleak and self-serious, this might feel too flashy. Fair warning.
What parents need to know
The Running Man is rated R for violence, language, and thematic content. The premise - people hunted for entertainment - is grim, and the film doesn't look away.
Expect blood, frequent peril, and a generally dark tone. This is for adult audiences. For reference on ratings, see the Motion Picture Association's guidelines at filmratings.com.
Bottom line
This isn't trying to be high art. It's a pulse-pounding, neon-soaked chase with a heartbeat - Wright operating in a tougher register, and Glen Powell proving he can anchor a blockbuster.
If that sounds like your thing, consider this your signal. For more on the project, the film's listing is up on IMDb.
