Edgar Wright's Running Man

Plus: Jurassic Park interview, Project Hail Mary, Paul Walker in F11, and Sinners hits Max.

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*We spoke with Jurassic Park screenwriter David Koepp here.

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FEATURE

🏃 Edgar Wright's 'Running Man' Remake

Sometimes the most dangerous projects are the ones that demand surgical reconstruction. For Edgar Wright, tackling The Running Man isn't about honoring Schwarzenegger's '80s cheese-fest. It's about excavating Stephen King's prophetic nightmare and translating it through pure visual storytelling.

When Wright describes his process as waiting until stories "haunt you," Running Man represents his most haunted project yet. King's 1982 novel predicted our media-saturated hellscape with terrifying accuracy, but the original film buried that prescience under muscle-bound spectacle and one-liners.

Wright's insight is characteristically sophisticated: audiences are finally ready for the story King actually wrote, not the action movie Hollywood thought they wanted.

The Visual Grammar Revolution

Wright's Running Man strategy builds directly from his core philosophy: "I'm trying to tell the story visually... most screenwriting books focus on dialogue, but film is fundamentally a visual medium." For a story about media manipulation, this becomes the perfect scalpel.

The genius emerges in Wright's understanding that King's novel is about perception versus reality—the exact thematic territory Wright mastered in Last Night in Soho. But where Soho used dreams and memory, Running Man will weaponize television itself as the unreliable narrator.

Expect Wright's signature playlist-driven approach to revolutionize the deadly game show format. "Having the playlist before we put pen to paper changes everything," he revealed about his process. For Running Man, this means chase sequences choreographed like Baby Driver's car ballets, but with the existential dread of The World's End.

The Tetris Pass Philosophy

Wright's obsessive editing style—what he calls playing "f*cking Tetris" with every line and cut—promises to transform King's relentless pacing into pure cinematic momentum. "The edit is the final draft," Wright insists, and Running Man's life-or-death stakes demand that level of precision.

His "surgical bits of dialogue" approach will likely strip away exposition in favor of visual storytelling. Don't expect characters explaining the dystopia—expect Wright to show how entertainment becomes oppression through his trademark visual comedy turned nightmare.

The real masterstroke? Wright's ability to find emotional anchors in genre chaos. "The genre only works if you care about the people going through it," he observed. Running Man won't just be about surviving the game—it'll be about maintaining humanity while the cameras roll.

Wright spent decades perfecting the balance between technical virtuosity and emotional truth. Now he's applying that surgical precision to King's most media-savvy prophecy. The result promises to be Wright's most politically urgent film disguised as his most entertaining thriller.

Read / listen to our interview with Edgar Wright here.

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