The second dystopian Stephen King adaptation in the same year (after The Long Walk), The Running Man sees Glenn Powell hunted across the US with a chance to win a huge cash prize.
Powell is Ben Richards, a construction worker who is financially up against it after getting fired for speaking out over working conditions. His child is sick and in need of expensive medication so, reluctantly, he auditions for The Running Man – one of several twisted reality shows designed by an all-powerful television network run by Josh Brolin’s slimy executive Dan Killian.
Edgar Wright (Baby Driver, Hot Fuzz) infuses the film with his distinct kinetic style and cheeky sense of humour. The result is something akin to the ’80s urban nightmare of RoboCop. It even has Home Alone-esque booby-trap sequences. It’s Wright’s biggest, boldest canvas yet, and while it is less funny or flashily directed than his earlier fare, he doesn’t miss a chance to rib American popular culture or the capitalist horrors it fostered, as King once did, while also nodding to citizen journalists and social-media creators. It’s a wild ride; strap in