A Film directed by Francis Lawrence based on the 1979 novel of the same name by Stephen King (under his pseudonym Richard Bachman).

While dystopian “murder game” narratives such as The Hunger Games, The Running Man, and Battle Royale are hardly a new phenomenon, most entries in the subgenre can trace their thematic and stylistic lineage back to The Long Walk, the 1979 novel Stephen King published under his Richard Bachman pseudonym. Long before televised death matches and arena-style spectacles became a familiar cinematic tropes, The Long Walk established the core framework of stories like this: young participants forced into a state-sanctioned contest, an authoritarian system that transforms suffering into entertainment, and the slow psychological dismantling of its characters under the guise of opportunity and reward. Rather than relying on elaborate world-building or science-fiction technology, King’s novel emphasized endurance, inevitability, and the quiet brutality of rules enforced without mercy, elements that would become foundational to the genre.
The influence of The Long Walk is not merely speculation as Koushun Takami, author of Battle Royale, has explicitly cited King’s novel as the primary inspiration for his own work. That influence is unmistakable, both in structure and in theme, as Battle Royale amplifies King’s examination of state violence by placing it within a classroom of children turned against one another. The subsequent film adaptation became a global phenomenon and, for years, a cult classic in the United States, in part because of its prolonged “banned” status following moral panic and post-Columbine sensitivities. Its notoriety only reinforced the visibility of a genre that The Long Walk had quietly pioneered decades earlier.

From there, the lineage continues almost uninterrupted. Films such as The Condemned and eventually The Hunger Games adopt the same essential framework: young or marginalized bodies turned into consumable spectacle, an audience conditioned to accept violence as entertainment, and a governing power that presents participation as voluntary while making refusal impossible. Despite Suzanne Collins’s public claims that The Hunger Games was not directly influenced by Battle Royale or The Long Walk (which is frankly silliness), the parallels are difficult to dismiss. Seen in this context, The Long Walk is not simply an early entry in the “death game” tradition but its architect.
“Set in a dystopian 1970s, the film follows fifty boys in an annually televised competitive walking marathon, meant to inspire viewers. Each boy must maintain a pace of three miles per hour (4.8 km/h) of nonstop walking for days, and failure to do so after three warnings results in death. The boy who lasts the longest wins a large cash prize and the fulfilment of one wish of his choice.”

As previously stated, The Long Walk does not revel in world-building, and much of its horror emerges from the audience’s gradual, but incomplete, understanding of the world in which the story takes place. The film is clearly an alternate history narrative, likely set in or around 1980, roughly aligning with the novel’s original publication, yet this United States is a nation frozen in an earlier era, evoking the 1940s or 1950s, creating an uncomfortable feeling throughout. Rather than offering direct exposition, the film reveals its setting through fleeting details in character dialogue, such as references to widespread financial hardship caused by the aftermath of “The War,” an ominous event that is repeatedly mentioned but never explained.
The film invites unsettling questions: was “The War” World War II? Did the United States lose, or was it an entirely different conflict unique to this timeline? What did the Major Do? Who is he? Personally, I came away with the impression that the country may have undergone some form of military Junta or coup following World War II, though I could be way off from King’s original intent. This vagueness, in my opinion, is one of the film’s greatest strengths. and it makes me really want to read the novel at some point.

The Long Walk itself is a brutal competition that doubles as mass entertainment and authoritarian control. Fifty teenage boys, symbolically one from each state, are required to maintain a constant walking speed of at least three miles per hour. Those who fall below the pace receive warnings, and after three infractions, they are executed on the spot by armed soldiers. The march continues until only one walker remains, who is awarded a substantial cash prize and the fulfillment of a single wish. There is no finish line, and the competition only ends after 49 deaths occur, and by the end the few boys to enter the third act had already walked hundreds of miles for five straight days. The simplicity of the premise is precisely what gives the film its power, allowing the horror to trickle out gradually through the characters’ exhaustion, fear, and the slow erosion of hope. We are initially led to believe that The Long Walk was voluntary, although it is slowly revealed that that is pretty much not the case, and that the game exists to weed out suspected political dissidents.
The film’s emotional weight is carried by a strong ensemble cast led by Cooper Hoffman as Raymond “Ray” Garraty, whose quiet resilience and growing disillusionment anchor the narrative. David Jonsson delivers a compelling performance as Peter McVries, offering a measured intensity that balances Garraty’s empathy. The supporting ensemble, including Garrett Wareing, Tut Nyuot, Charlie Plummer, Ben Wang, Roman Griffin Davis, and Jordan Gonzalez, adds texture and individuality to the group of walkers, making each loss feel personal rather than abstract. Judy Greer and Josh Hamilton appear as Garraty’s parents, grounding the story in a sense of life beyond the road, while Mark Hamill is chillingly effective as the Major, the authoritarian figure who oversees the contest with an unsettling aura of pure menace he rarely is able to exercise in live action films.

What ultimately sets The Long Walk apart from other dystopian films is its emphasis on human connection and psychological endurance rather than spectacle. The most devastating moments arise not from violence, but from conversations between competitors, fleeting acts of kindness, and the realization of what survival demands. This is not a film where you are rooting for anyone to win, because after the events of The Long Walk, there are no real winners, I found myself rooting for the death of The Major or any of the despotic game masters, and the upheaval of whatever government they are in. Considering the political climate we are currently in, The Long Walk resonates now as much as it did in the 1980’s, and for that very reason this is a film I think everyone should see no matter how brutal it is.