Once upon a time in the twilight zone of literary consumerism (late 1970s to be exact), beyond-successful horror writer questioned his own achievement. Carrie and Salem’s Lot were humongous sellers, and his work was already well-known in the genre. But was it his name that ensured a book’s popularity as soon as it hit the shelves, rather than the subject or quality of the content? Between 1977 and 1984, he published 4 books under the pseudonym of “Richard Bachman”, before he was eventually rumbled during the release of the 5th (Thinner) and before he released the intended 6th under that alias (It would have been Misery, fact fans!). One of these so-called “Bachman Books” was The Long Walk, which originally saw print in 1979, but was technically (according to King) the very first novel he conceived, having thought of the story in 1966 during his freshman year at university. All that aside, this grimly dystopian page-turner has very nearly been filmed on several occasions by George A. Romero (!!), Frank Darabont, and Andre Øvredal (to name a few). In the end, it was Francis Lawrence (Constantine, I Am Legend, and most of the Hunger Games) that picked up the cinematic ball and kicked it down the road, with a screenplay from JT Mollner (Strange Darling). With a wealth of positive feedback, the film is now stumbling into cinemas in the UK and the US. Is it worth a stroll to see it?

 

We’re in an alternate version of America in roughly the 1970s, after a war of some kind has plunged the nation into an economic and cultural abyss. With poverty and destitution very much the norm, the military-led authorities have sanctioned an annual event known as “The Long Walk”. Chosen by lottery, 50 young men are picked to represent each State and are placed into a “race” of sorts. Basically, they start walking and they never stop… until only one of them is left and the winner takes all. As soon as a “Walker” stops or is unable to maintain a speed of 3mph after 3 warnings, then they’re shot dead. We learn all this as events unfold (across several days and hundreds of miles), but we mostly follow the progress of one Ray Garraty (Cooper Hoffman), a bucket hat-wearing homeboy from the desolate State that the Walk is running through. And so, it starts, with Ray immediately bonding with the affable Pete McVries (David Jonsson from Alien: Romulus) for much-needed support and comradeship. Despite knowing that only one will win and the rest will die, cliques and friendships are quickly formed, although some of the contestants are openly hostile and vindictive towards others. In charge of the event is The Major (a superb douchebag performance from Mark Hamill), who occasionally pops up to bark rules and stir up militaristic fervour that helps absolutely no one. As the charley-horses bite and the bodies fall, the full nightmare of the “sport” quickly becomes clear to them all.

 

In tone, this is like the optimistic coming-of-age meanderings from Stand by Me have crashed full-pelt into the cold-hearted cynicism of Alex Garland’s Civil War, whilst flipping the middle finger to the PG-rated violence of Hunger Games and other YA dystopias. Which is ironic, given the identity of the director. Also, it’s bloody great. It’s somewhat depressing (which may affect its performance in the long run, especially with current news headlines), but it’s an excellent adaptation of the source material. Changes have been made to the book. There are 50 contestants instead of 100, and the speed limit was dropped from 4mph to 3mph (which even King admits was too fast). Other changes are made, which should not be spoiled, but they are completely appropriate and add to the story rather than spoil it. This makes it even more of a must-see for King fans rather than just a morbid curiosity about how they made the premise work onscreen.

 

It helps that there is not one bum performance in the whole cast. Kudos to Hoffman and Jonsson for making their characters so relatable, realistic, and likeable in such a setup. Their building brotherhood is faultlessly evolved as the miles pile on, making the inevitable hardships more distressing as they rain down on them. In a more forgiving world, you can imagine them genuinely bonding and having each other’s backs, so when elements of that happen here, it doesn't seem unlikely, even with the guns pointing at their heads. And given that there are (potentially) 49 dead boys walking here, what’s nice is that plenty of the other Walkers feel like proper fleshed-out characters, rather than just cyphers or “red shirts”. There’s the enigmatic jock Billy Stebbins (Garrett Wareing), the homophobic bully Gary Barkovitch (Charlie Plummer), the quick-witted and foul-mouthed Hank Olson (Ben Wang), and many others. Incisive screen work and the natural dialogue in the film allow us to emotionally connect to many characters, so that when they inevitably (and literally) bite the dust, it feels like a genuine gut-wrench and a loss to the group.

 

And then there’s The Major, as played by Mark Hamill. The only visual representative of the totalitarian regime, he growls out militaristic bullshit and tells the doomed youths how much their sacrifice will inspire the masses. The fact that he even decries the current “epidemic of laziness” in the young just hammers home how close this character is to current political figures, especially as it is the exact opposite of the actor’s own political leanings. It’s a charismatic turn that works perfectly. In fact, without getting political, it’s astonishing that a story from the 1960s and (arguably) based on the Vietnam situation at the time, is now more relevant than ever. If the Squid Game-like reality show setting doesn’t enforce that, then the ironic patriotic singing at the climax (reminiscent of The Deer Hunter or The Purge films), and the sight of deserted American towns will tap you on the shoulder and wink at you knowingly.

 

But The Long Walk doesn’t just rely on youthful camaraderie and political satire. It takes the grimmest and grossest elements of the story and (literally) splashes them over the screen. After all, if you walk for 300 miles over 5 days without stopping, what do you think that would do to the average human body? So, we get a jaw-dropping and graphic bowel explosion and other failings of the human body. Some of these include attempting to painfully walk on a broken ankle, being run over by a military tank, and many, many shots to the head. And because these are blameless young men, some of whom we’ve grown to learn things about during their on-road bonding, it feels tragic and a far cry from the bloodless deaths in most YA franchises. This is underlined by the briefest moments of humour and typical male bravado. Such as the point where Garretty instigates a mini rebellion amongst the dwindling survivors as they bad-mouth The Major, or the early “Your Mom” jibes during witty exchanges.

 

Admittedly, a lot of the tension and compelling nature of the plot comes from the car-crash mentality of the human psyche, something that undoubtedly drove the success of Squid Game and suchlike. It’s what makes it more than just dudes walking down the road and gassing about stuff; anybody could get struck down at any time, even when there are the expected contrivances and occurrences that drive the plot. Somewhat pleasingly, the young characters also show a great deal of courage and integrity. Sure, there are several of them that have dislikable traits (leading to one even being called a “killer”), but even though there is a competition, most of the guys support and help each other where possible, and that’s a refreshing juxtaposition to all the prevalent coldness shown in the cultural references. There’s some nice, simple cinematography which shows the surrounding country to be desolate, with occasionally mournful onlookers (most of whom are broken in some way) and deserted towns with boarded-up shops. It’s all depressingly current for the most part.

 

It really is one of the more faithful adaptations of King’s work, and that’s despite some significant changes. The tone and grimness of the world is just on point with the book, but more importantly, so are the messages, especially the ones about the strengths of the human spirit, even when it can be manipulated and bent. Despite some very strong critical reviews, it’s unlikely to be a huge box office hit and is arguably just too on-the-nose and depressing to appeal to a mass audience. Hopefully, that will either be an incorrect assumption or it will become a cult hit as time marches on. Otherwise, this is a strong and very much recommended film that feels like there is little that could have been done to have improved it before release. Perhaps the best compliment is that it’s a 110-minute film that feels like an 80-minute one. Mature and unflinching, it deserves to be recognised with some of the other best genre films of this year, such as Weapons, Sinners, and Nosferatu when it comes to the end-of-season reviews. March down to your local multiplex and support it, but don’t expect to skip home in happiness.