The Running Man, a chase film by Edgar Wright, is a movie that knows how to keep its legs moving — even when the brain occasionally stumbles. Glenn Powell is Ben Richards, a working stiff shoved into a corporate bloodsport. He plays the part with a mix of fury and exhaustion—running for family more than ratings. The chase scenes are Wright’s plaything — sewer escapes, buggy crashes, rooftop sprints staged with manic precision. They’re effective, loud, and they remind us that Wright can choreograph chaos better than any director alive.
The satire is pointed in some places, dull in others. Colman Domingo’s Bobby Thompson is a host who turns charm into cruelty, and Josh Brolin’s Dan Killian is capitalism in a tailored suit, promising contracts that stink of death. Wright’s comments on media manipulation are most keenly felt in the deepfake scenes, in which Ben’s words are twisted into propaganda. It’s chilling, though the repetition of “Richards Lives” graffiti feels like the film is congratulating itself. The film wants to deliver a sermon about corporate rot, but it’s ultimately more of a prank.
One of the standout players is Lee Pace’s Evan McCone, a predator with a history that adds up to more than a mask. His climactic stand-off clash with Powell is brutal, played with Wright’s trademark style, and ultimately what gave the chase film its most satisfying payoff. Emilia Jones as Amelia Williams lends moral heft, even if her hostage-to-ally journey is rushed, and Michael Cera’s Elton Parrakis is comic relief smuggled in from another film. The supporting players – William H. Macy, Daniel Ezra, Jayme Lawson – round out the rebellion, but the film isn‘t always able to balance them out effectively.
Best of all, the film works best when it plays into its prankishness: Powell bluffing with a fake explosive, Arnold Schwarzenegger appearing on a $100 bill as himself, and the studio crowd turned into a Molotov mob. It falters when it tries to be profound, moments when Wright suddenly remembered he was supposed to deliver a lecture on capitalism instead of a chase through collapsing bunkers. Even so, while the satire wobbles, the chase is compelling, and Powell shows us he can keep dystopia on his back without skipping a step.
Grade B+.
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