Movies set in a dystopian universe with high wealth inequality where poor folk risk their lives in a reality television program as entertainment for the masses.  It sounds extremely niche but it’s a growing genre.  We saw it earlier this year with The Long Walk (it’ll make my annual top 10 list) and other entries include The Hunger Games franchise, Series 7: The Contenders, and Battle Royale.  The Running Man can be included too – not just this entry but also the 1987 film starring Arnold Schwarzenegger.  A 1982 novel authored by Stephen King provides the source material.

Directed by Edgar Wright (Shaun of the Dead, Scott Pilgrim vs. the World), this remake has been adapted to integrate 21^st Century technology.  Desperate for money to help his sick child, Ben Richards (Powell) has reluctantly entered “The Running Man”, a popular TV show where contestants start at the TV studio, get a 12-hour head start, and are then hunted by trained assassins.  If they can evade capture for 30 days, they’ll win a life-changing one billion “new” dollars.  There’s a slight catch though.  In the program’s history, not a single player has survived to win the cash.

Richards hopes he’ll be the man and Wright’s film starts promisingly.  We’re introduced to Dan Killian (Brolin), the show’s producer who cares about television ratings above all else.  There’s also the charismatic host, Bobby T (Domingo), who energises the audience and provides nightly updates about the whereabouts of the contestants and killers.  An early sequence where Richards evades capture in a rundown apartment building, wearing just a towel, is a highlight.  The odds are stacked against him but he's a fit, shrewd, intelligent individual.

Sadly, The Running Man peters out with an increasingly unrealistic narrative.  As the villainous producer, Josh Brolin (Milk) is a lacklustre, one-note character who exudes confidence but never feels threatening.  He’s smart enough to manipulate footage using visual effects to galvanize the public against Richards… and yet he’s foolish enough to let Richards live so attacks can be shown “live”.  Why not just pre-record and say it’s live?  The finale itself is a chaotic mess.  Subplots are resolved too quickly, and the sudden shift in crowd sentiment feels phoney.

The tone is also muddled.  This should be an intense thriller but, as illustrated by a scene headlined by Michael Cera (Superbad), it’s too light in places.  Do we really need Home Alone-style escapades and a kooky grandmother?  Further, the silly way Richards miraculously dodges a barrage of bullets conjures up, unnecessarily, memories of action tropes and cliches.

Wright adds energy with colour, spectacle and fast-paced editing and while it helps stave off the boredom, it’s not enough to overcome the script’s limitations.