What is the nature of freedom in the post-truth era? In a time when truth can be warped at will through deepfake videos, the will of the masses is placated through dopamine-feeding technologies, and their desires and outrages carefully nurtured and directed through media. Maybe things aren’t that bad. There is archaeological evidence that proves that every civilization, even stretching back to ancient times, thinks that they are closer to the end of times. So, maybe we shouldn’t be alarmists. Or maybe it’s the opposite, like the ‘Frog in boiling water’, our biggest failing could be our inability to observe the changes around us. Maybe the most terrifying fantasy of a dystopian future is the one in which we realise far too late that we are actually living inside a dystopian world. And that is where The Running Man (2025), the recent adaptation of Stephen King’s 1982 novel, steps in to answer the question in the first line.

Director: Edgar Wright

Cast: Glen Powell, Josh Brolin, Michael Cera, Jayme Lawson

In Edgar Wright’s vision of post-truth dystopia, where the elites control truth at every level, the freedom to observe reality as it is has been denied. The truth is reserved for the ultra-rich, while the common man is not just fed lies but is also stripped of the dignity of expressing his true feelings. The film opens with Ben Richards (Glen Powell) lying. “I’m not angry,” he says, with his forehead veins popping, while confronting his supervisor after losing his job. Ben desperately needs money to help his family. He constantly looks at the advertisement for The Running Man reality show and tells his wife and daughter that even in such desperation, he is “not crazy enough to enter The Running Man.” The second lie is not conscious; it is a lie borne of his inability to perceive the reality that in this world, people like himself do not have a say in how “crazy enough” they can get.

And so, through a twist of fate and desperation, Ben Richards enters the heavily televised reality show and must survive being hunted down for 30 days in order to take home generational wealth. All social commentary aside, The Running Man never forgets that it is an action-adventure. Edgar Wright’s signature rhythm, pacing, and energy are packed in every frame. Killings range from point-blank headshots to Michael Cera electrocuting a team of soldiers with a water pistol. An ever-present and infectious glee pervades the design of every action sequence. And when the emotional moments hit, they hit you with conviction. There is an unabashed 80s nostalgia to the world design, colours, levity, dialogues, and action. There is no pseudo-philosophical edgy cynicism in the way characters interact with each other (which is ironic considering the inherent bleakness of the dystopian genre). Yes, the story shows societal degradation, but it doesn’t mean the protagonist can’t have a genuine connection with strangers, meet bleeding heart revolutionaries, and optimists who believe in him. It was refreshing that the film focuses its critique on the system as a whole and not on the common people. It was refreshing not to see any surprise backstabbers, just to show how cruel and bleak the world is. The film is confidently corny, charmingly simplistic, hopelessly romantic with its idea of revolution, and that is largely why it works. Extreme cynicism of the dystopian genre meets the wide-eyed optimism and energy of the 80s. Speaking of the 80s, The Running Man could have rooted all of its still-relevant themes with simple alterations, like changing the TV network to a social media company. The refusal to pull the story out of the 80s robs it of the ability to deliver its commentaries with more conviction. The film could have gained a lot more with an incisive look at its story through a 2020s lens and how its themes have not aged in over three decades.

Despite its negligent flaws, The Running Man is a thoroughly entertaining action adventure film that does what all good sci-fi films have always done: To show us how bad things could get and hint at those core human values that might guide us back to light, which, in the case of the film, happens to be freedom. It might be the freedom to see reality as it is, or it might just be the freedom to hold up the middle finger to your boss.