I realized partway through this version of The Running Man that there’s an inherent tension in bringing this story to the big screen. As in Stephen King’s 1982 novel, this new adaptation from director Edgar Wright takes place in a dystopian America, in which television is a form of social control. Members of the oppressed lower class can volunteer to compete in dangerous and degrading game shows for cash, encouraging the middle and upper classes to view them as subhuman and keeping everyone distracted with violent entertainment.

In book form, that’s all well and good – things only get bleaker as we learn the full scope of what people are being distracted from, and by the end, you might not look at game shows the same way for a while. But a movie has to actually show us these violent images, and there’s a strong possibility we might find them entertaining. The filmmakers must decide whether to lean into the critique and knot our stomachs with guilt over being as bad as the TV show’s bloodthirsty audience, or ease up on it and let us have a good time as our hero fights the system.

Wright has been open about wanting to adapt King’s book more closely, after the 1987 Arnold Schwarzenegger version took the basic premise and did its own thing. But the director is a consummate entertainer, as is Glen Powell, the ascendant movie star playing protagonist Ben Richards, and they made this film as guilt-free as they possibly could.

How you feel about The Running Man will ultimately come down to whether you agree with that choice. But for a long while, the movie is so fun that it’s hard not to.

Edgar Wright Brings Glen Powell To The Blockbuster Big Leagues

This is a big step forward for Glen Powell. The rising star and Tom Cruise protégé has been working up to leading an action blockbuster like this since Top Gun: Maverick, and this project takes full advantage of what he brings to the screen. (That its title could’ve been Cruise’s autobiography is, I’m sure, purely coincidental.)

Richards is a rageful man in King’s book, and Powell embraces that, but his explosive anger is somehow still charming in his hands. He’s a compelling action star and sells the stunts, but he also maintains that crucial underdog quality that makes us want to see him beat the odds. Contrast that with the onscreen inevitability of Arnold Schwarzenegger, and you’ll understand why the ’80s version jettisoned the everyman element.

He’s also funny, which is important, given that Wright lends The Running Man his usual tone. One of his gifts as a filmmaker is his ability to bake a joyful cleverness into every aspect, from the editing and camera moves to the dialogue and blocking, which gives his movies their propulsive energy. This time, he dials down the formal flourishes, but his signature is there nonetheless, and I spent long stretches just grinning at the screen. Powell embodies that tone well; the director-actor pairing is a natural match.

Most of the supporting cast are also on Wright’s wavelength. Josh Brolin’s producer is the smiling villain to contrast Powell’s scowling hero, and he’s just right for the role. Colman Domingo, who plays The Running Man‘s host, is a force of such indomitable charisma that it’s mostly through his performance we believe the odds are stacked against our hero. Michael Cera, who reunites with Wright after Scott Pilgrim vs. the World, is very dialed in.

In Trying To Entertain, The Running Man Loses Its Dystopian Edge

Richards in his jumpsuit talking to Killian in The Running Man

But as much as The Running Man‘s infectious energy and thrilling set pieces highlight Wright’s strengths, this story also pushes up against his limitations. When working with the right material, emotional stakes can thrive within his light touch, but his films aren’t exactly known for their cutting commentary. And as far as dystopias go, this one suffers from a certain softness.

The ’87 version draws a line between its deadly game show and the American viewing public’s passion for violent sports, and while it tries to have its cake and eat it too, its social critique ultimately still has teeth. This new adaptation instead targets reality TV, through both the game shows and an ubiquitous, Kardashian-esque series called The Americanos, and while there are some interesting ideas to mine there, the film moves too quickly to dwell on them for long.

As a result, the effect of these references is quite strange. The movie doesn’t chastise us for numbing ourselves with entertainment so much as question why we’d do it with that form of it, which is so staged and repetitive, especially when we have the good stuff – meaning, movies like The Running Man. Why waste our attention on shows that think nothing of manipulating their audience when Glen Powell is jumping off buildings to show us a good time?

It’s a message I can get behind, but I wouldn’t call it particularly meaningful. So, when Wright tries to return to some of King’s weightiness in the last act, it feels forced and awkward. Emilia Jones suffers the worst for it and was either miscast or needed more time to land the tonal shift her character represents.

Luckily, the ending doesn’t go for that entirely, and viewers content to ride the wave can probably shrug off the attempt. But I watched the story conclude with diminished enthusiasm. The Running Man is still an undeniably fun time at the movies, but even if my enthusiasm for it wins out, my feeling that something was lost in the journey from page to screen lingers.