Movie Review: The Long Walk

By John Corrado

The Long Walk is the long-awaited film adaptation of Stephen King’s 1979 novella of the same name, an early work by the author that became part of a 1985 short story collection published under the pen name Richard Bachman.

That that collection also included The Running Man and Rage, a school shooting story that has since been taken out of publication at the author’s request, already makes The Long Walk somewhat infamous in the King canon. But it is even more notable as one of the author’s few well-known stories that has never been adapted for the screen, until now.

It has long stood out as an anomaly for an author whose work has been adapted time and again over the past few decades, with previous attempts to bring this dystopian story to the screen – including from directors like George A. Romero and Frank Darabont – falling through. Perhaps the work was considered too bleak before. But maybe the times have finally caught up to it now.

Directed by Francis Lawrence, The Long Walk is an unflinching adaptation that doesn’t compromise the high stakes and disturbing violence of the story, which is set in a dystopian future that is actually a post-Vietnam past. The United States is now a totalitarian regime. Every year, to boost morale, fifty young men from across the country are brought together to compete in The Long Walk, a competition broadcast live across the nation where there is no finish line and only one winner; whoever is left standing at the end.

If the contestants slow down below three miles an hour, or stop for more than a few seconds, they will “get their ticket,” which means being shot on site. The walk is run under the terrifying command of The Major (Mark Hamill, nearly unrecognizable), a dictator-like figure who keeps pace at the front. These are the stakes, and Lawrence does an efficient job of setting them up.

Our protagonist is Ray Garraty (Cooper Hoffman), the hometown contestant from Maine who we first meet being dropped off by his emotional mother (Judy Greer). The other contestants are a memorable mix of teen boy archetypes; the soulful Peter (David Jonsson), the talkative know-it-all Hank (Ben Olson), the tough guy Stebbins (Garrett Wareing), the unstable loner Gary (Charlie Plummer), etc.

But, regardless of what friendships form between them, we know there can only be one winner. The characters know it, too. This is classic King territory, taking what is, at heart, a coming of age story about friendship, and elevating it with extreme, terrifying stakes. Lawrence, the filmmaker behind The Hunger Games, is a fitting choice to finally bring the material to the screen; capturing the sensibilities of King, his film plays like a sort of Hunger Games meets Stand By Me.

The brotherly camaraderie between the characters is a key aspect of this story. This is a male-centric film, with the homophobic ribbing and masculine bravado of the boys masking an innate fear of the situation they are in. The young cast nails these roles, making them feel like fleshed out characters who bond and clash with each other under the extreme circumstances. Hoffman, inching closer and closer to being the generational talent that his late dad Philip Seymour Hoffman was, has the gravitas of a movie star, but also strips that away to show vulnerability. This is matched by the compelling empathy that Jonsson brings to his portrayal.

In The Hunger Games, Lawrence turned away from the impact, due to the necessity of working within a PG-13 rating. In The Long Walk, he doesn’t turn away. The film is bleak. It is harrowing. But this is also what makes it impactful, with his film being notable for never desensitizing us to the violence. Each gunshot rattles like the first kill shot we see to the head, blood splattering on the pavement. This is gruelling stuff, intended to make us flinch.

Lawrence crafts a compelling film, one with sustained tension and bursts of graphic violence. But it’s the underlying sadness and nihilistic hopelessness that really makes The Long Walk stand out as a cinematic experience. On a deeper level, it’s a story about the illusion of choice, the psychological torture of knowing only one person can survive, and how easy it is to fall under the command of an authoritarian regime. It’s not necessarily horror in the same way that other King stories are, but it’s made to shake you in the way that all the best horror movies do.