Charlie Plummer as Barkovitch, Garrett Wareing as Stebbins, Cooper Hoffman as Garraty, David Jonsson as McVries, Ben Wang as Olson, Tut Nyuot as Baker, and Joshua Odjick as Parker in The Long Walk. Photo Credit: Murray Close/Lionsgate
Courtney Howard // Film Critic
THE LONG WALK
Rated R, 1 hour and 48 minutes
Directed by: Francis Lawrence
Starring: Cooper Hoffman, David Jonsson, Garrett Wareing, Tut Nyuot, Charlie Plummer, Ben Wang, Jordan Gonzalez, Joshua Odjick, Roman Griffin Davis, Mark Hamill¸ Judy Greer
THE LONG WALK is, all around, a towering achievement. The trail the harrowing tale continues to blaze is nothing less than astonishing in its resonance and relevance. Published in 1979, author Stephen King (writing under his pseudonym “Richard Bachman”) delivered a stinging, horrific novel about a group of young men who, under a totalitarian regime, are forced to compete in a physically torturous contest with life-or-death consequences. He wrote it as reaction to the Vietnam War and, because of its graphic nature, it was long considered un-filmable. Until now.
Decades later and in the midst of a King resurgence, the story has found its way to a company of remarkable filmmakers, craftspeople and performers who’ve taken the source material and made its gutting allegorical context sear the soul. The film is timely and timeless, haunting and haunted, gorgeous and grim. Director Francis Lawrence and adapting writer JT Mollner have crafted a visceral, gripping, emotional and provocative affair reminiscent of THE OUTSIDERS and FULL METAL JACKET. Not only is it a masterclass, brilliant King adaptation, it’s one of the year’s best films. Period.
Much to his mother Ginny’s (Judy Greer) chagrin, Ray Garraty (Cooper Hoffman) voluntarily entered the lottery to become part of the nation’s annual contest, The Long Walk. In this alternative, dystopian version of the United States, the government created a TV show to raise morale and elevate the gross national product that has 50 contestants walking at 3mph for as long as they can without stopping, stepping out of line, or slowing down. They have 10 seconds to comply between warnings. If they do not, after their 3rd warning, they “get their ticket punched” (i.e. shot) by the military escort led by The Major (Mark Hamill) monitoring their progress. And they must walk until there’s one left. These young men are risking their lives for a better future, taking a chance to have one wish granted and win a million dollars.
Amongst those competing against Ray are streetwise Peter McVries (David Jonsson), kind-hearted Art Baker (Tut Nyuot), strategizing Hank Olsen (Ben Wang) and anti-authoritarian Collie Parker (Joshua Odjick), all of whom form an immediate friendship. They’re also met with a few antagonists, like unhinged bully Barkovich (Charlie Plummer), whose rude actions cause a sobering casualty, and ripped health-nut Stebbins (Garrett Wareing), who keeps his motives hidden, but makes it clear he’s not there to make friends. As the journey takes them down a paved highway scattered with dilapidated, roadside Americana, under dangerous duress and through extreme environments (like heat, cold and rain), these young men’s bonds and wills to live are tested severely.
This film does not hold back on the violence of these boys essentially getting executed. Still, amidst the unblinking nihilism and gutting brutality showcased, the filmmakers instill the proceedings with a notable sense of heart-wrenching hope and heroism to provide balance. The atmospheric pull feels claustrophobic and oppressive, yet contains an internal intimacy that makes the humanism and character-driven actions soar. Death isn’t solely for shock value, though there is that. It means something greater, infusing the narrative with perceptive commentary on rebellious protest, sacrifice and dignity.
The self-titled “musketeers” encourage each other, manifesting in both physical and verbal antics, whether it be propping up their fellow tired, catatonic and weak walkers, or rallying their waning psyches through pep talks. Others outside their tight-knit group are given grace, no matter how fleeting their presences may be. Players like young Curly (Roman Griffin Davis) and novelist-hopeful Harkness (Jordan Gonzalez) have a profound impact long after their inescapable outcomes. Even the antagonists are gifted with a compelling internality.
Given the sprawling cast, there’s a comforting ease to the ensemble’s repartee. It helps to destabilize us later when the herd is inevitably thinned. There’s a great chemistry and camaraderie between the players, especially the pitch-perfect, exceptional performances from Hoffman and Jonsson. Hoffman’s indelible heart-clutching scenes where he almost breaks rank, falling behind due to sleep deprivation or familial regrets, are filled with nuance and vulnerability. Jonsson turns in commanding work. He’s a magnetic, charismatic performer, digging into the material’s deeper facets with honesty and poignancy.
In terms of the supporting performers, Greer capably supplies the motherly tenderness, garnering our tears during earned moments. Hamill is good, however, he goes a bit too broad in his R. Lee Ermey-esque portrayal, breaking the unrelenting tension. Wang, Plummer and Odjick all give revelatory, star-making turns, but it’s a line said by Wang that continues to loom large long after the end credits roll (just thinking about his delivery conjures a lump in my throat).
Lawrence doesn’t waste a millisecond’s time during the briskly paced feature, allowing his cutaway shots of the roadside to complement and augment the insular nature of the road trip. The blind cat, religious elder, rotting cow carcass, crucified crow and farmer plowing scorched earth look like painterly asides through cinematographer Jo Willems’ lens, symbolically representing the decay of the world these young men are forced to travel.
The visionary auteur, production designer Nicolas Lepage and costume designer Heather Neale are careful not to assign a specific year to the dramatics on display, but vaguely recreate the late 60s with a post-war, rubble film aesthetic and drab beige, brown and black color palette. Top marks to the sound design team as their work enhances the immersive experience. Every time a warning is issued over the static rasp of the megaphone or a gun is fired it acts as a frightening fissure in the contestants’ reality.
Necessary changes to the original novel (some aforementioned and some not, as to not spoil) not only add to the post-screening conversation that thought-provoking films inspire, but heighten the emotional insight. With its sentiments on finding the light in darkness, it leaves us feeling devastated, but a bit uplifted in that maybe we too can find a little joy in a world marked by unending despair.
Grade: A
THE LONG WALK opens in theaters on September 12.
