The only Running Man review you need!
Edgar Wright is a filmmaker that knows how to use the rhythm of his filmmaking to illustrate the psychology of his characters. In Hot Fuzz (2007), Wright films and edits mundane tasks such as police paperwork in a very high octane fashion, placing you into the headspace of a protagonist that takes his job more seriously than anyone else. In Baby Driver (2017) for every car chase, shootout, or even a walk to the coffee shop during the film’s opening credits, the world surrounding the protagonist is in complete lockstep with the music he listens to.
Wright’s newest film The Running Man is yet another addition to this trend. The film stars Glen Powell as Ben Richards; a man backed into a corner, blacklisted from employment for extending a helping hand to his fellow members of the working class too many times. Powell’s million dollar grin is rarely found in this film, as it is made instantly apparent that he is dialing back his usual charm to portray a character that is simmering with anger, and only one small push away from being set off at any moment. The film’s opening credits feature him walking, ironically, through the streets; A sequence that could read as a juxtaposition to its more lively and joyous counterpart in Baby Driver, as The Running Man similarly sets the stage for its protagonist, this time around being a character that will often need to lay low to survive, but is constantly on the verge of exploding.
Ben makes the rash decision to sign up for the popular game show “The Running Man” in the hopes to win the money that can afford his sick daughter the care that she needs, and if he can survive the show long enough, a better life for his family permanently. The object of the game is simple: Ben must survive for 30 days with the entire country hunting him down. Citizens are given reward incentives of their own to record Ben and report his location at any opportunity, assisting a team of assassins known as “the hunters” in finding and eliminating him.
If this makes the film sound a little bit like a video game, it’s because it certainly moves like one. A majority of the ensemble cast here act as temporary game-like companions during Ben’s “run”, crossing paths with the likes of William H. Macy, Daniel Ezra, Emilia Jones, and Michael Cera. These supporting characters all make some kind of impression during their brief screen time, but this is more of a testament to the talent that portrays them than anything else. Most of the time, however, these characters merely serve as a vehicle for world building, as well as a challenge to Ben’s perspective on the show, ultimately snowballing into his own character arc.
The film on paper seems like a surefire recipe for a non-stop action thrillride, but the ways in which Wright dilutes some of his established flare turn it into something a bit more compelling, though it will certainly ring anti-climactic for many. This is not a relentless hunt, but a strategic one. The biggest threat to Ben’s success is often not the hunters themselves, but the misinformation about him that “The Network” running the show is feeding the audience. Ben’s survival depends not just on outrunning the competition, but by performing well enough for the show’s ratings. The show itself then becomes a balancing act by both Ben Richards and Edgar Wright behind the camera, needing to satisfy an audience’s lust for carnage, but attempting to form a real connection with them at the same time that illuminates the truth of our reality, painting a familiar picture of how the justified anger of the working class is often redirected at one another, and weaponized against itself.
A parallel could further be drawn between the audience of “The Running Man” within the film, and the audience watching Powell in the theater. Wright’s reputation for high energy filmmaking in both action and comedy is most apparent in scenes that involve The Network in some way, whether it be the hunters closing in on Ben’s location, the colorful production design of the show’s studio, or scenes that are stolen by the sumptuously entertaining performance of Colman Domingo as its host, Bobby T. This works in great contrast to the colder, quieter environment that we first meet Ben in. Both Wright and The Network know what the people want to see, and Ben must play along to keep his positive influence on the show’s ratings afloat, lest he won’t be allowed to keep running anymore.
In a sense, The Running Man could be seen as a deconstruction of entertainment; how it manipulates people’s emotions and turns struggle into a spectacle for the ultimate benefit of those in power. As a big studio film itself, there is a prevalent irony to it. Even the way that the film deploys product placement feels deliberate and satirical, while at the same time still ultimately being exactly that. What will likely make or break the film for most viewers is the success rate of Edgar Wright’s balancing act; indulging in some of the bloodlust, while at the same time attempting to pull back and explore those desires and what makes them so profitable. Tune in and find out.
