★★½ (2½ out of 4)
Here’s a good movie that I wanted to be great. Oh well. “The Running Man” sure gets enough licks in to rile up R-rated action addicts and keep them hungry for more. I’ll take it. Far more faithful to the dystopian 1982 novel by Stephen King (under the pseudonym Richard Bachman) than the 1987 Arnold Schwarzenegger sci-fi joke-athon that Hollywood carved out of it, “The Running Man” gives Glen Powell the action workout of his life. There’s also a topical theme in the script—income inequality—but don’t worry, director/cowriter Edgar Wright is not one to get lost in draining brain games.
Powell, who should already be a star just for “Top Gun Maverick” and “Hit Man,” stars as Ben Richards, a hothead who needs money bad. His sick two-year-old daughter requires expensive meds that Ben can’t afford. So this desperate dad does exactly what his waitress wife Sheila (Jayme Lawson) tells him not to do; he signs up for a mega-violent reality TV show called “The Running Man” in which contestants can win a billion bucks just by surviving 30 days of being chased, bruised and battered by the Hunters, a team of assassins led by McCone (Lee Pace).
Glen Powell gets the action workout of his life in a good movie that I wanted to be great. Oh well.
So far, no one has survived. But Ben thinks he can. And so does network honcho Dan Killian, nicely seethed by Josh Brolin, who believes that Ben’s unmanageable anger issues and personal sob story are just the thing to pull in viewers. Dan is not wrong. And so the games begin.
Goaded on by series host Bobby T—a smiling sadist role that gives the great Colman Domingo a chance to make something out of nothing (and he does)—the crowds watch the blood spray on a jumbo screen as the Hunters do their worst on the Runners. And did I mention that audience members can win cash prizes by turning in any contestant they spot hiding from the killers?
But damn that Ben is quick, running from New York to Boston to Maine (true King territory) and every greedy bastard who wants to turn him in for the reward. Not everyone is a creep. William H. Macy shows up as an old-time anarchist who specializes in fake IDs and bizarro disguises like the kind Powell wore in “Hit Man.” And, hey, over there we spot Michael Cera who’s running a side business in safe houses.
So that’s the gist of it. Wright has a blast putting Powell through his paces, sometimes wearing just a towel (I’d call that fan service). Despite Brolin’s network chief trying to paint Ben as a monster, the audience starts feeling for the guy and that includes “CODA” breakout Emilia Jones as an innocent bystander Ben kidnaps, gently, of course.
Truth be told, as Ben starts running out of steam so does the movie. Wright does his damnedest to supply the kinetic energy he brought to “Baby Driver” and his Cornetto Trilogy (“Shaun of the Dead,” “Hot Fuzz,” “The World’s End”). Still, repetition is the villain of the piece as it deadens the excitement that began on such a high. Luckily, getting there really is half the fun in “The Running Man,” and watching Powell in action smooths over a lot of rough spots. Not all, but a lot. And that’s good enough for me. How about you?