Film Review – The Long Walk
The open road has always stood as a metaphor for life. For as long as storytelling has been around, the road has represented possibility, leaving the past, facing the future, living in the moment, etc. It’s a tried-and-true narrative device that has been revisited over and over again. In The Long Walk (2025), it stands as an endurance test – a contest to see who can walk the longest without stopping. But the further we go along, the more we learn about the characters and their reasons for joining such a challenge, the more we see their humanity rise to the surface. This is a bleak and harrowing tale, full of brutal sequences that are hard to watch. Yet there is beauty and grace here as well. Despite its dire surfaces, this is one of the most life affirming films I’ve seen in recent memory.
That’s the great trick director Francis Lawrence pulls off. Along with screenwriter JT Mollner, Lawrence adapts Stephen King’s novel with a slowly increasing dread, yet with enough heart to balance it all out. It’s a tremendous feat. At one point, we are left grimacing at how unyielding the narrative is with its up close violence. At the same time, the character dynamics are so well drawn that we can’t help but be invested in each of them. This is one of those rare instances where a movie makes us truly care about what is going on and the fates of everyone involved. There are tangible stakes at hand, and when something terrible happens, we feel it in the pit of our stomachs.

We’re brought into an alternate universe where the U.S. is in a dystopian state. A great war has decimated the country, leaving everyone struggling to survive. In order to boost the economy, the controlling military regime has created an “opportunity” where contestants from each state volunteer for a yearly competition. The rules: each contestant walks non-stop down an open stretch of road. They must maintain a 3mph pace. If they slow down or stop, they will be given three warnings. After the third warning, if they cannot continue, they will be shot dead where they stand. Warnings can be erased, but only after a certain number of hours of walking has elapsed. If anyone tries to leave or escape, they will be killed. They can only take what they can carry, there are no bathroom breaks, and there is no finish line. Regardless of time, weather, hunger, or injury, each participant must go on or face the barrel of a rifle. The last person alive is the winner and is granted one wish that the government will fulfill.
One of the bigger twists about The Long Run is that everyone is fully aware of the consequences. The walk is nationally televised, and crowds gather near the end stages. This flips things around dramatically. Instead of characters being forced into this predicament by surprise, they sign up on their own volition. This brings up all sorts of questions about who each of the contestants are, their motivations, and the reasons for partaking in something where they only have a one in fifty chance of surviving. In a lesser movie, the plot would involve characters conniving against one another or betraying allegiances, ala The Hunger Games (2012) or Battle Royale (2000). This film has more interesting things on its mind. Instead of turning against each other, the contestants – all young males – grow closer together. They bond through this shared experience. They quibble, they argue, and they get on each other’s nerves. But they also understand that most will die during the journey – it is inevitable. It’s with that understanding of their mortality that they find a connection.
The cast all around are outstanding. If there is a lead, it is Raymond Garraty, played by Cooper Hoffman. Raymond has his own reasons for entering the game. Quick flashbacks fill us in on his background, and how his motivations may slightly differ from everyone else. Raymond befriends Peter McVries (David Jonsson), a charismatic personality who – despite the darkness surrounding them – seems upbeat and optimistic. Hoffman and Jonsson play off one another exquisitely, allowing their characters to relate in a natural and organic fashion. But they are not the only strong characters here. Everyone gets a chance to shine – giving their respective roles variety and nuance. Some go in afraid, others determined. Some exhibit abrasive traits, others are more compassionate. Each one changes and grows with each passing mile. Even someone like Raymond’s mom, played by Judy Greer, leaves a lasting impression despite her limited screentime. And we can’t forget screen legend Mark Hamill, who continues his late career resurgence as the sadistic Major. The Major runs the game with an iron fist, acting as both a motivating force and a harbinger of doom.

Francis Lawrence – whose directing career includes stints in the aforementioned Hunger Games franchise as well as a long history in music videos – approaches the material with a refined hand. There are no flashy cinematic tricks, everything feels grounded and gritty. The cinematography (Jo Williams) and editing (Peggy Eghbaalian, Mark Yoshikawa) does an excellent job of creating different visual palettes at each stage of the walk. Where the main point of action is people simply walking and talking, there was never a time where the pacing slowed. Sometimes the camera will capture conversations in medium shots, other times it will pull back to show the actors’ full bodies in motion. Compositions will have characters against the setting sun so that we can only see their silhouettes. During night scenes, red lights illuminate their faces as though they were walking into the depths of hell. Lawrence’s direction doesn’t sidestep the violence. There are plenty of moments where we witness people being shot at point blank range, or the killings occur way in the background so we can see the surviving member’s facial reactions. All the while, bystanders quietly watch them, like ghosts making their way to the afterlife.
For a story this unsettling on a visceral level, I was taken aback by how moved I was. Seeing the characters go through this ordeal together – learning to move passed their differences and find meaning in what they were doing – worked on me emotionally. There will be plenty who will find parallels to the current social and political climate, and those comparisons are valid. For me, I viewed the narrative from a broader perspective. Like mentioned before: the road stands as a metaphor for life itself, with each of us traveling along it. We are all heading towards the same end, but our paths vary. Some may move forward in fear, others with contentment. Friends may join us for a small portion of the trip while others walk beside us the entire way. There are peaks and valleys, moments of joy, and times of deep pain. All these factors are wrapped up in a narrative that is intense but equally poignant.
This is the second Stephen King adaptation this year that examined the complexities of life, the first being The Life of Chuck (2024). But where that film watered down its themes with Hallmark Card slogans and cheesy dance scenes, The Long Walk goes about its business with urgency, intelligence, and soul. This is one of the best films of the year. There wasn’t a moment where I wasn’t completely captivated by what it was doing on the screen, or by the thoughts and feelings it stirred within me. Despite all the death and tragedy littered throughout, we come out of it with a sense of hope. Hope that whatever comes our way, we will be able to face it together.
