“The Running Man (2025): Where Logic Takes a Vacation and Fun Takes Over”
- Dan Brooks
- Nov 18, 2025
- 4 min read
A man joins a game show in which contestants, allowed to flee anywhere in the world, are pursued by "hunters" hired to kill them.
If you ever wondered what would happen if Robocop, American Gladiators, and a pack of Red Bull-addicted hyenas had a baby, congratulations - you’re emotionally prepared for The Running Man (2025). This thing doesn’t just wink at 80s sci-fi satire; it does that eyebrow-waggle thing guys do when they’re trying to flirt but accidentally look like they're having a stroke.
Right off the starting line, we’ve got Glen Powell. Look, I don’t know what phase of Hollywood alchemy he’s stepped into, but the guy is glowing like he moisturizes with pure charisma extract. Tom Cruise calling him to deliver two and a half hours of “Here’s how not to die while sprinting on camera”? That’s elite mentorship. That’s Sensei Thomas Mapother IV handing down the sacred scrolls of Scientifically Optimal Running Form.
And apparently, Cruise had notes. Actual notes. “Film yourself running because you don’t look as cool as you think you do.”
Translation: Welcome to the club, kid. None of us do. Not even me. But people keep pretending, so it’s fine.
THE STUFF THAT WORKS
First off, the action?
When it lands, it lands hard. Like “slapped by a Terminator with a grudge” hard. It’s sweet, sharp, and sprinkled across the movie like a tasteful garnish rather than a never-ending Michael Bay buffet.
Second - and this hit me right in the nostalgia gland - the movie has callbacks to the 1987 Arnold version. I won’t spoil them, but let’s just say I smirked hard enough to sprain something. Edgar Wright clearly respects the source… both the book and the Arnold-era cheese platter.
Third: Powell.
This dude is rocketing upward so fast SpaceX is filing a trademark infringement claim. And he comes off authentic. Like, “I’d get a beer with this guy and trust him not to poison me” authentic.
Fourth: the over-the-top humor.
Some moments are so gleefully wild they made me nostalgic for the 80s dystopian satire boom - back when movies predicted the future as a blend of corporate authoritarianism and neon-lit idiocy. (Okay, so they weren’t entirely wrong.)
Fifth: Josh Brolin as a villain.
He shows up with that “I’ve seen things, kid” energy. You don’t just watch Brolin chew scenery - you experience it. The man radiates seasoned menace like someone who keeps emergency bourbon in every room of his house just in case it’s a day ending in “y.”
THE STUFF THAT DOESN’T QUITE WIN THE RACE
Are you ready for the truth bomb?
This movie feels like three different films shoved into one gym bag, zipped shut, and tossed into a moving SUV. Why? Because it clearly wanted to be a series, not a two-hour film.
Characters show up like coupon inserts in a Sunday paper - quick, crammed in, and begging to be thrown away because we barely know them. If this had been a six-episode limited series? We’d actually care when people cry, scream, or get tackled into a Bulgarian mud pit on international television.
Second: It could’ve been shorter. And saying that in 2025 - an era where movies think “three hours” is the default - is almost a compliment.
Third: Ben Richards in this version?
Kind of… an ass.
There, I said it. Come at me.
Arnold’s Richards was a framed underdog we rooted for instantly. Powell’s version? He chooses the game. Big difference. Small detail? Sure - but narratively, it matters. It affects who you cheer for and how loudly.
And then… Michael Cera.
The poor guy. He’s in the movie, technically. But he’s used so lightly he might as well have been sprinkled on top like a garnish. This could’ve been a brilliant subplot. Instead, it’s like someone forgot to plug in his narrative power cord.
INTERESTING TRIVIA TO IMPRESS FRIENDS AND ALIENATE CINEPHILES
That giant red ‘N’ logo above the Network building? A jab at Netflix for spoiling The World’s End in their own promotional materials. Savage. Petty. Hilarious. Approved.
Edgar Wright even told Stephen King to watch Hit Man to prove that Glen Powell wasn’t just another pretty face: he’s The Face.
Tom Cruise’s “running lessons.” I can’t get over this. Imagine getting a call from Maverick telling you your form lacks Top Gunniness.
The book was written in 1982… set in 2025… and released the same year the new movie hits. That’s some eerie alignment.
The 1987 film took place in 2017. Meaning even the original underestimated how weird the real 2017 would be.
FINAL THOUGHTS (AKA THE COOL-DOWN LAP)
Look - this movie is fun. It’s flawed, but fun. It’s ambitious, a little chaotic, and way too caffeinated, but hey, so am I. And Edgar Wright swinging for the fences is still more interesting than half the safe, committee-approved movies Hollywood churns out while praying TikTok teens show up.
Would it have been better as a series?
Yes.
Did I enjoy myself anyway?
Also yes.
Did Glen Powell run more in this movie than I have in the last decade?
Without question.
Rating: 6.7 / 10
A good time - not a perfect time - but worth the watch.
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