The Running ManThe revolution will be televised; but will it be edited for content? The Running Man is adapted from the novel of the same name by Richard Bachman, and features mega-action star, Arnold Schwarzenegger, in one of his most iconic roles as Ben Richards, a man framed for a massacre by helicopter of dozens of men and women--a tragedy which leaves him convicted to work in a slave camp, branded the "Butcher of Bakersfield". But fate turns when following his escape, and subsequent recapture, he "volunteers" to participate in the sensational television game show/blood sport event called "Running Man".
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To say that The Running Man has political overtones is an understatement--even the title evokes imagery of a candidate "running" for office. After all, it features two governors in the cast; aside from Schwarzenegger, Jesse Ventura has a small role as a "stalker" on Running Man called "Captain Freedom". The opening of The Running Man--in true Eighties' sci-fi fashion--begins with a preface, that by 2017, the nation's economy has collapsed, and is ruled by a police state, censoring anything which might breed dissent. And foremost, television is an extension of the government, run by the state as a propaganda machine, churning out programming designed to keep the audience complacent and distracted. (And to think that in 1987, Ted Turner's CNN was only just getting its motor running.) It's hard not to be cynical watching The Running Man in the context of the proliferation and domination of media in our lives a mere decade and a half plus into the new millennium, a short throw from the year in which the film is set. Effectively, The Running Man manages to satire a society which only half exists yet. Like many science fiction films which "predict the future" in a fashion not unlike throwing darts, sometimes the predictions are ridiculous, and sometimes they're more right than they could have guessed. Even the "Cadre Infonet" which Ben Richards accesses from his brother's former apartment from a CRT monitor--now residence of ICS jingle-writer, Amber Mendez (María Conchita Alonso), and Ben's hostage by necessity--predates modern uses of the internet for booking airline tickets; although I suspect that someone, somewhere must have been let down to find cassettes didn't stick around at large for another thirty years. Justice is administered by the media, via the "entertainment division" of the Department of Justice; the executions carried out on Running Man are in reality the subversion of the Eighth Amendment to the Constitution, regarding cruel or unusual punishment. Although candidates for Running Man are implied to "volunteer" to be contestants to commute their sentences or--as mentioned at one point--obtain the "right" to a trial by jury, this is no different than a carrot dangled in front of defendants, strong-armed into a plea bargain. Not limited in its reproach of the nanny/police state, The Running Man is also critical of a populous which allows itself to be herded in front of their TVs like cattle, and how people will let their emotions run hot and cry for blood, letting mob rule substitute for due process.
The Running Man has the pulse of television beating in its chest, and the tropes of Eighties action movies running through its blood, born and bred in the glow of the cathode ray. Arnold Schwarzenegger embodies the spirit of testosterone and bloody heroism, his action star panache and wry one-liners lending their signature to his performance. Even his catchphrase does not go unrepresented. The Running Man is chock full of numerous TV references, from asides recalling "Gilligan's Island" and "Star Trek" to the casting of Richard Dawson as the slimy host of Running Man, Damon Killian. Killian represents the most loathsome of villains, even more so because he doesn't even deign to confront Ben or his victims without the security of his bodyguard or other protection. He is a Hollywood-style scumbag, a snake in a flashy suit, all scales and bleached teeth, who shakes your hand while stabbing you in the back. His interest in Ben as a contestant is not even remotely born out of any sense of seeing justice done, but for a few extra rating points. For Killian, the currency of lives is reduced to a pie chart. Even his name--Damon Killian"--sounds like "demon" and "killer", all fitting descriptors for this beacon of consumer avarice and vacuum of scruples. His employer, ICS, touts the maxim "seeing is believing", because television wants you to forget the illusion transmitted through the false idol planted in your living room or bedroom; it is the feedbag and blinders both, reducing your agency and perspective. This establishment makes Ben's framing for the Bakersfield massacre plausible in the eyes of the public, as well as the aftermath purported in the wake of his airport capture. The facts are literally edited for content to broadcast on television--as if the truth is an obscenity--to make Ben into a ready-made scapegoat, packaged for public consumption. So when the audience of Running Man calls for Ben's blood, how different is it when you consider public reactions regarding recent history's most notorious murderers, such as Osama bin Laden? The big difference here is that we have the benefit of knowing Ben is not only innocent, but was heroic to try to stop the massacre from happening; imagine how different The Running Man might have been if that information was withheld.
Television has always been about exploitation, from the day the first commercial interrupted the real reason we bought this little electronic portal into another part of our world. This is especially true for game shows, and what passes for entertainment in The Running Man should seem incomprehensible to viewers...until you look at today's access to similar content. Teality TV shows with titles like "Teen Mom 2", ultra-realistic and violent video games, cable news reporting on (read: advertising) presidential races two full years prior to the election; and it doesn't end here, with the internet being an unbound frontier for content beyond the pale. Names and faces of people the media reports on bombard us at every turn, such as Donald Trump, Kanye West, Jennifer Lawrence, etc., and our perceptions of these people are molded almost exclusively by the way they are presented by the media. So it is with the stalkers of Running Man, regarded by fans as part superstars, part super heroes, but in reality are savage killers and entertainers both, eager to sate the bloodlust in their target demographic. Although The Running Man is a prime example of a popcorn-munching action flick on the surface, the film is filled with the spirit of rebellion, of smashing the TV and breaking its hold. This resonates with the same rebelliousness inherent in rock and roll; coincidentally, rock stars Mick Fleetwood and Dweezil Zappa have small parts as members of a resistance, trying to cut the mind-numbing signal controlling the nation. These are not terrorists, but freedom fighters, trying to liberate the people from their consumer bondage; but do people actually want freedom? There's something unmistakably ironic about the conclusion to The Running Man. Killian talks about giving the people "what they want"; in effect, that's what Ben does by doling out his brand of justice, not too dissimilar to Killian and the looming "cadre" representing the government. All televised, the audience cheers Ben's actions on; but is it because justice was done, or that blood was spilled? Maybe Killian was right all along...
Recommended for: Fans of a unique hybrid of social satire, science fiction, and explosive action, all tied together with the blockbuster movie icon, Schwarzenegger himself. It's an engaging story, which seems hauntingly familiar as we approach the target year in the film.
The Running Man has the pulse of television beating in its chest, and the tropes of Eighties action movies running through its blood, born and bred in the glow of the cathode ray. Arnold Schwarzenegger embodies the spirit of testosterone and bloody heroism, his action star panache and wry one-liners lending their signature to his performance. Even his catchphrase does not go unrepresented. The Running Man is chock full of numerous TV references, from asides recalling "Gilligan's Island" and "Star Trek" to the casting of Richard Dawson as the slimy host of Running Man, Damon Killian. Killian represents the most loathsome of villains, even more so because he doesn't even deign to confront Ben or his victims without the security of his bodyguard or other protection. He is a Hollywood-style scumbag, a snake in a flashy suit, all scales and bleached teeth, who shakes your hand while stabbing you in the back. His interest in Ben as a contestant is not even remotely born out of any sense of seeing justice done, but for a few extra rating points. For Killian, the currency of lives is reduced to a pie chart. Even his name--Damon Killian"--sounds like "demon" and "killer", all fitting descriptors for this beacon of consumer avarice and vacuum of scruples. His employer, ICS, touts the maxim "seeing is believing", because television wants you to forget the illusion transmitted through the false idol planted in your living room or bedroom; it is the feedbag and blinders both, reducing your agency and perspective. This establishment makes Ben's framing for the Bakersfield massacre plausible in the eyes of the public, as well as the aftermath purported in the wake of his airport capture. The facts are literally edited for content to broadcast on television--as if the truth is an obscenity--to make Ben into a ready-made scapegoat, packaged for public consumption. So when the audience of Running Man calls for Ben's blood, how different is it when you consider public reactions regarding recent history's most notorious murderers, such as Osama bin Laden? The big difference here is that we have the benefit of knowing Ben is not only innocent, but was heroic to try to stop the massacre from happening; imagine how different The Running Man might have been if that information was withheld.
Television has always been about exploitation, from the day the first commercial interrupted the real reason we bought this little electronic portal into another part of our world. This is especially true for game shows, and what passes for entertainment in The Running Man should seem incomprehensible to viewers...until you look at today's access to similar content. Teality TV shows with titles like "Teen Mom 2", ultra-realistic and violent video games, cable news reporting on (read: advertising) presidential races two full years prior to the election; and it doesn't end here, with the internet being an unbound frontier for content beyond the pale. Names and faces of people the media reports on bombard us at every turn, such as Donald Trump, Kanye West, Jennifer Lawrence, etc., and our perceptions of these people are molded almost exclusively by the way they are presented by the media. So it is with the stalkers of Running Man, regarded by fans as part superstars, part super heroes, but in reality are savage killers and entertainers both, eager to sate the bloodlust in their target demographic. Although The Running Man is a prime example of a popcorn-munching action flick on the surface, the film is filled with the spirit of rebellion, of smashing the TV and breaking its hold. This resonates with the same rebelliousness inherent in rock and roll; coincidentally, rock stars Mick Fleetwood and Dweezil Zappa have small parts as members of a resistance, trying to cut the mind-numbing signal controlling the nation. These are not terrorists, but freedom fighters, trying to liberate the people from their consumer bondage; but do people actually want freedom? There's something unmistakably ironic about the conclusion to The Running Man. Killian talks about giving the people "what they want"; in effect, that's what Ben does by doling out his brand of justice, not too dissimilar to Killian and the looming "cadre" representing the government. All televised, the audience cheers Ben's actions on; but is it because justice was done, or that blood was spilled? Maybe Killian was right all along...
Recommended for: Fans of a unique hybrid of social satire, science fiction, and explosive action, all tied together with the blockbuster movie icon, Schwarzenegger himself. It's an engaging story, which seems hauntingly familiar as we approach the target year in the film.