The Running Man is a lot of movie, and my disappointment in it is not subtle. On paper, Edgar Wright and Glen Powell should be an easy match for a slick, propulsive studio thriller. Instead, this reimagining of the 1987 Arnold Schwarzenegger vehicle leans into a gritty, self-serious dystopia that drains most of what makes Wright and Powell such reliable fun.
Powell plays Ben, a working-class father backed into desperation as his daughter’s illness and his family’s financial freefall tighten the screws. His wife, played by Jayme Lawson, grinds through miserable shifts just to keep them afloat. The setup is strangely The Hunger Games-ish in how quickly it sketches a world of class divide and turns the poorest people into disposable entertainment, then sprints past any chance to build real empathy. The movie wants you to feel the stakes instantly, but it never gives the relationships enough breathing room to land as human.
Powell’s star persona is part of the problem. He is trying so hard to sand down the wisecracking charm that fueled Everybody Wants Some!! and Top Gun: Maverick, and the performance lands as snarling and strained rather than grounded. Between this and Hit Man, it has started to feel like he is chasing a more “serious” everyman lane that does not fit his natural energy. Sometimes an A-lister is just too charismatic to convincingly disappear into misery for two hours, and The Running Man keeps asking Powell to do exactly that.
Wright, meanwhile, seems to be chasing the same lightning snap he found in Baby Driver, only without the playfulness and rhythmic clarity that made that movie sing. Ben is recruited into the titular game show, a month-long survival gauntlet where contestants must evade and outsmart deadly Hunters for prize money that can change their lives. It is a great engine for action, and the film does deliver plenty of explosions, chases, and violent set pieces. The problem is that the action is doing all the work, because the script from Edgar Wright and Michael Bacall is so heavy-handed that there is no subtext left to discover. The movie explains its world, explains its villains, explains its message, then repeats it louder.
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There are flashes of fun genre iconography, and a few supporting players and cameos cut through the sludge. Martin Herlihy is a welcome jolt, and Michael Cera shows up in a way that briefly reminds you how much lighter this could have felt. But the larger package plays like a blunt riff on better sci-fi satire, with a whiff of Paul Verhoeven’s RoboCop sensibility and none of the bite.
By the end, The Running Man feels like a mismatch of talent and tone. Edgar Wright is one of the best stylists of his generation, and Glen Powell has become one of Hollywood’s most effortless modern stars. Watching them both work this hard at a mode that does not suit them is the most frustrating part. There is spectacle here, and a few isolated thrills, but not much juice, and far less personality than you expect from the names on the poster.
Score: 4/10
The Running Man (2025)
- Cast: Glen Powell, Josh Brolin, Colman Domingo, Lee Pace, Michael Cera, Emilia Jones, William H. Macy, Daniel Ezra, Jayme Lawson, Katy O’Brian, Martin Herlihy
- Director: Edgar Wright
- Genre: Action, Science Fiction, Thriller
- Runtime: 133 minutes
- Rated: R
- Release Date: November 14, 2025
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