There’s a certain brand of cinephile that believes film hits its artistic apex in 1994 with The Shawshank Redemption. That film reduced certain audience types – namely, men who struggle to talk about their feelings – into a blubbering mess. These filmgoers might also shed manly tears over Stand By Me, the 80s coming-of-age picture about four boys walking into the forest to retrieve a dead body. Both were adapted from Stephen King novellas and featured his trademark blending of horror and nostalgia. If Shawshank was King’s ode to the salvation of friendship over the passage of years, Stand was King’s elegy to friendship itself. Both stories subjected their male subjects to unendurable hardships, both stories featured emotive acts of sacrifice.

So, about 30 years after Shawshank comes The Long Walk – directed by Francis Lawrence and adapted from another novel written by King. TLW is about a group of boys chosen, via a perverse lottery, to compete against each other in, you guessed it, the “Long Walk” – an annual spectacle put on by a fascistic US government in the not-too-distant dystopian future. Why on Earth would they do that? Well, the US has slipped into a state of economic decline and apparently, according to the propaganda, productivity picks up after the Long Walk; the nation is inspired by the heroic feats of these brave boys. So, they must walk, and keep on walking, above 3 miles per hour (that’s 4.8 km/h for us Antipodeans). If they fall off the pace, they get a First Warning. If they haven’t picked it up within a few seconds, they get Second and Third Warnings, followed by a bullet to the head. The last boy walking is the winner; the prize is riches for life and the fulfilment of one special wish. Spoiler alert: it’s incredibly dangerous to take a shit.

Into this violent contest, we’re introduced to competitors Raymond Garraty (Cooper Hoffman), Peter McVries (David Jonsson), Arthur Baker (Tut Nyuot) and Hank Olson (Ben Wang), who develop a close-knit friendship. They’ll need it too, as certain other players are less convivial, such as maligned incel Gary Barkovitch (Charlie Plummer, snivelling and excellent), and the Major (Mark Hamill, OTT). The mysterious Major runs the Long Walk and has the dubious honour of executing the last runner up before the winner is declared. But at least one of the competitors has something other than winning in mind.

On the one hand, TLW is a not-so-subtle commentary on the implied violence of capitalism; we may not have a gun to our heads, but we’re all competing for limited resources. If we fall behind, if we miss a payment, we’ll be taken out. Think Snowpiercer or Parasite levels of allegorical unsubtlety (not that there’s anything wrong with that).

But as ludicrous as the premise of The Long Walk is, the film is disarmingly powerful. That’s because the relationships between Garraty, McVries and co are sensitively drawn and performed, with an ear for the fixations of young men. In the face of impending death, these boys discuss hopes and anxieties, they smoke cigarettes and brag about chicks (even if most of them have no experience), they discuss infantile obsessions.

This is bread and butter Stephen King. But within the rules of the Long Walk, it’s heartbreaking and affirming. Both the characters, and the audience, know that it’s all for nothing, that it’s impossible for everyone to survive, that it’s futile for these boys to bond. Why save your friend if only to delay the inevitable?

But the glaring hole in the logic of the film is its beating heart and its most affirming quality. These characters’ refuse to give up on each other – even as the hum of military jeeps and gun fire grows ever closer. I cannot think of a better plot device to describe the essentiality of friendship. So, add The Long Walk to the list: King Adaptations to Cry To.

 

The Long Walk is currently playing in cinemas.