Film Review: The Running Man 逃亡遊戲 (2025) - USA / UK
Reviewed by Andrew Chan (Film Critic Circle of Australia)
I rated it 7.5/10
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Edgar Wright's The Running Man arrives in multiplexes with a high-concept premise that is perhaps more relevant now than it was when Stephen King first published the novel in 1982. The film is a sleek, propulsive thriller, less a remake of the schlocky 1987 Arnold Schwarzenegger vehicle and more of a faithful, albeit stylized, return to the dark heart of the source material. It is a film that understands the cold mechanics of a nation obsessed with brutal entertainment, even if it occasionally mistakes noise for fury.
The year is a grim 2025. The American economy has fractured, creating a permanent underclass that lives in squalor. Their opioid, their bread and circuses, is the vast media empire run by the "Games Network." The king of these gladiatorial broadcasts is The Running Man, a live-streamed murder chase where the desperate and the damned are hunted by professional killers for the viewing pleasure of a nation.
Enter Ben Richards, played with a compelling mix of grit and leading-man charm by Glen Powell. Powell sheds his usual comedic lightness for the role of a man cornered by circumstance. His daughter needs medicine that costs a fortune; the only currency accepted is blood and ratings. He volunteers for the "game" not for glory, but as a last, desperate gamble to provide for his family. Once the game begins, Wright shifts gears, and the film becomes a kinetic, breathless chase across the grid of surveillance-saturated America.
The film's strongest assets are its villains. Josh Brolin plays the morally bankrupt producer, Dan Killian, who views human suffering as market data. But it is Colman Domingo who steals every scene he is in as "Bobby T," the unctuous, brightly dressed host of the program, a ringmaster of murder whose catchphrase is delivered with chilling cheerfulness.
Wright is, of course, a master of timing and visual rhythm. The film moves, propelled by snappy editing and a smart, pulsing soundtrack. The action sequences are clear, violent, and exciting—a relief in an era of muddy CGI chaos. The chases across various American landscapes are inventive, keeping the audience hooked on the basic, primal question: Will he escape this time?
But the film's satire, while sharp in moments, feels slightly undercooked. The 1987 version was pure camp, a blunt instrument of 80s action cheese. This version aims for something smarter, but often pulls its punches. The themes of wealth inequality and media bloodlust are presented clearly, perhaps too clearly, without the deeper psychological bite that makes King's work truly unsettling. The film wants to be Network and Mad Max simultaneously, and while it excels at the Max part, the Networkmoments feel a little thin around the edges.
Ultimately, The Running Man is a very good genre film that stops just short of being a great one. It is a thrilling, well-acted spectacle that delivers exactly what it promises. It is a cynical piece of entertainment about cynical entertainment, and while it never quite reaches the heights of Wright’s earlier, more personal work, it’s a heck of a ride while it lasts. (Neo, 2025)