Let’s get this out of the way: Edgar Wright is one of the most stylish, energetic directors working today, and Glen Powell is having the kind of hot streak most actors only dream of. So, when it was announced that Wright would be tackling a fresh take on Stephen King’s dystopian thriller The Running Man (writing and directing, no less), expectations shot through the roof. A hyper-kinetic, satirical, neon-soaked chase movie starring Powell as the wrongly convicted Ben Richards? Sign me up.
Unfortunately, the finished film is a textbook case of “great trailer, middling movie.” Despite flashes of visual brilliance and a committed lead performance, Wright’s The Running Man ends up as the most disappointing Stephen King adaptation of 2025, a year that already gave us the solidly entertaining Salem’s Lot remake on Max.
What Works
– Glen Powell is legitimately excellent. He brings real desperation and everyman rage to Ben Richards, making you root for him even when the script lets him down. His natural charisma carries entire sequences.
– Edgar Wright’s signature whip-pans, smash cuts, and needle drops are all present and correct. Some set-pieces (especially an early prison break and a surreal game-show segment involving holographic killers) are pure popcorn bliss.
– The production design is gorgeous. This is a glossy, candy-colored dystopia that feels like Blade Runner by way of Network and Squid Game.
Where It Falls Flat
For a story written under the Richard Bachman pseudonym as a furious middle finger to reality TV and state violence, Wright’s version feels oddly toothless. The satire is broad when it should be vicious. Lines that should scorch barely smolder. In 2025, when actual television networks are livestreaming chaos for clicks, a movie needs to swing harder than surface-level jabs at influencer culture and “like to kill” mechanics.
The biggest sin? It’s just not that tense. The original 1987 Schwarzenegger vehicle (for all its campy excess) understood that The Running Man is, at its core, a relentless chase movie. Here, the pacing drags in the second act, bogged down by repetitive game-show interludes and a romantic subplot that never earns its screen time. Katy O’Brian is magnetic as always, but her resistance-fighter character feels underwritten.
Worst of all, the film pulls its punches in the third act. Without spoiling, the ending opts for crowd-pleasing heroics over the bleak, cynical gut-punch King originally delivered. It’s the safest possible choice, and it drains the story of its power.
Final Verdict
Edgar Wright’s The Running Man looks phenomenal and moves well in bursts, but it never finds the savage heartbeat of Stephen King’s novel. Glen Powell deserves a better showcase, and fans of the book will likely leave frustrated. It’s not a disaster (far from it), but in a year where we finally got a decent Salem’s Lot and are still buzzing from Mike Flanagan’s upcoming Dark Tower dreams, this one stings as the clear letdown of the 2025 King slate.
Rating: 5.5/10 – Stylish, watchable, and ultimately forgettable. Rent it when it hits streaming, but temper those sky-high expectations.