William H Macy | Bouquets & Brickbats

15/11/25

Cineworld, Edinburgh

A new Edgar Wright movie is generally a cause for celebration, even if The Running Man falls some way short of the dizzy heights he attained with films like Baby Driver and Last Night in Soho. And it certainly goes a long way to erase the memory of the shonky 1987 version of this story, which featured characters running around in multi-coloured jumpsuits and prompted author Stephen King to have his name removed from the credits. This adaptation, it turns out, comes with the author’s seal of approval.

The original novella is famously set in 2025: America has become a dystopian authoritarian police state, where the poverty-stricken working classes are ruled by corporate media networks, who keep them hooked on an endless diet of brutal reality-TV game shows. This used to feel like a big stretch but, with recent political developments in the USA, it seems an all-too credible premise.

Ben Richards (Glen Powell) is a blue-collar worker, currently black-listed because of his tendency to voice his feelings about the rotten state of his day-to-day existence. His wife, Sheila (Jayme Lawson), works at a hostess bar in Co-Op City and the couple are desperately trying to scrape together enough money to buy medicine for their sick infant daughter. Ben tells Sheila that he’s seriously thinking of signing up as a contestant on one of those hazardous game shows, but promises her that he won’t try his luck on the one with the biggest payout: The Running Man.

But of course, it’s hardly a surprise that the show’s producer – the smarmy, toothy, super-positive Mike Killian (Josh Brolin) – thinks Ben will make an ideal player for the titular game and that he could be the very first person in the show’s history to walk away with the billion-dollar prize money. It’s a tempting proposition…

This is a big, brash, blockbuster of a film with enough world-building to make Co-Op City (a heavily disguised Glasgow) look queasily realistic. With the help of his old friend, Molie (an underused William H Macy), Ben manages to start off his run aided by a couple of fairly convincing disguises and some forged paperwork – but the odds are stacked and there’s a team of professional hunters hot on his trail. They know all the angles and it’s only a matter of time before they begin to close in. The result is a super-propulsive chase movie, which swings expertly from one action-packed sequence to the next, with Ben escaping death by a hair’s breadth at every turn. It’s thrilling enough to keep me on the edge of my seat for the film’s first half.

A later section where Ben ends up seeking refuge in the home of rebel Elton Parrakis (Michael Cera) is, for me, the film’s weakest hand. Parrakis has rigged his home with boobytraps and a long sequence where a group of hunters attempt to enter it plays out like Home Alone on steroids. While it’s undeniably fun, it serves to dilute the air of menace that the director and his co-writer, Michael Bacall, have worked so hard to create.

Furthermore, the film has no credible roles for its female characters. Sheila is only really present in the film’s early scenes and an attempt in the final third to introduce Amelia (Emilia Jones), a civilian whom Ben is obliged to take as his hostage, offers her too little to do and not enough reason for actually being there, right up the point where she is – quite literally – parachuted out of the story.

Nevertheless, this is eminently watchable stuff. It’s perhaps unfortunate that another of King’s ‘Richard Bachman’ books, The Long Walk, hit the screens only a couple of months ago and arguably made a better fist of adapting what is a very similar – if somewhat more sedate – concept.

But those who book tickets for The Running Man will surely find plenty here to enjoy. Sharp-eyed viewers may even spot a familiar face gracing America’s one-hundred dollar bills…

3.8 stars

Philip Caveney

09/05/24

Cineworld, Edinburgh

When author Pierre Boulle published his science fiction novel La Planéte des Singes in 1963, he could have had no idea of the protracted cinematic legacy that awaited it. In 1968, Planet of the Apes starring Charlton Heston was a massive hit and had one of the most iconic final scenes in history. It spawned four (admittedly patchy) sequels and, in the 1970s, became a long-running television series, of which I still have fond memories.

In 2001, Tim Burton attempted a big-screen reboot, but only his staunchest fans would claim that it was in any way a success.

So when, ten years later, director Rupert Wyatt made another attempt to apply the old defibrillators, I had low expectations (which, in retrospect, may have helped). Rise of the Planet of the Apes was a cracking film which centred on a remarkable mo-cap performance by Andy Serkis as Caesar. Two more films (both directed by Matt Reeves) continued in the same vein, rounding off with War for the Planet of the Apes in 2017. Surely there was nothing more to be said on the talking simian subject?

Ahem.

Wes Ball’s Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes begins with a glimpse of Caesar on his funeral pyre and then scampers nimbly onwards for many years, introducing us to a new hero, Noa (Owen Teague). Noa is one of a tribe of chimpanzee hunter-gatherers, who specialise in training eagles, which they send out to catch fish for them. The apes are now the dominant species on the planet and the few humans that Noa encounters are savages who, thanks to a mysterious virus, have lost their ability to speak.

Noa is approaching a coming-of-age ceremony for which he needs a freshly-laid eagle’s egg but, when the one he’s been carrying around with him gets scrambled, he’s obliged to ride out in search of a replacement. He comes up against a gang of aggressive bonobos, under the despotic leadership of Proximus ‘Caesar ‘(Kevin Durand), who has realised that – much like the Romans before him – he can make the name a hereditary title and subvert everything that his illustrious progenitor ever believed in. Noa also meets a wise old orangutan called Raka (Peter Macon) and a human called Mae (Freya Allan), who, unlike most of her species, can speak eloquently. She has a secret mission to carry out in the ruins of the nearby city where Proximus reigns, so Noa and Mae travel there together. They are captured and made to swear allegiance to Proximus. Another captive human, Trevathan (William H. Macy), tells Noa that Proximus is spending much of his time trying to gain entry to a massive underground vault which may just contain a ‘book’ which could restore the power of speech to humanity….

If this is beginning to sound complicated, let me assure you that on the screen it’s even more so – and this gives the story a muddled quality, particularly in the saggy middle section of its lengthy running time. Don’t get me wrong, the film has many qualities to commend it. Like its three predecessors, the world-building here is brilliantly done and the exotic (Australian) locations are awe-inspiring to say the very least. Also, the mo-cap characters are depicted with astonishing nuance and it’s to the film’s credit that, despite a massive cast of simians, I am never confused as to who is who.

As the film thunders into its final stretches there’s a major revelation – and I remind myself that Wes Ball has made no secret of the fact that he sees KOTPOTA as the opening salvo in a trilogy. But looking around the scant audience for this afternoon’s performance, I can’t help wondering if there’s any appetite for it. Maybe this lucrative franchise is finally approaching its extinction. If that’s the case, it’s had a pretty impressive run – and, even if this instalment feels like something of a step down, it’s nonetheless a fantastic visual achievement.

Those with a taste for mo-cap marvels should swing down to their nearest multiplex, choose the biggest screen available and… go ape.

3.3 stars

Philip Caveney