A Brutal Walk for Hope: The Long Walk (2025) Review
"You want to walk with me awhile?"
Francis Lawrence's adaptation of Stephen King’s The Long Walk brings about a mix of haunting imagery and sharp performances with a few missed opportunities. Based on one of King’s earliest novels, the film presents a world where a group of teenage boys are forced to walk endlessly until only one remains alive. We're dropped in the middle of a dystopian nightmare that should drip with tension, atmosphere, and despair. Unfortunately, while the bones of the story are intact, much of the worldbuilding and emotional weight feels lost in translation.
The boys set off on a three mile per hour walk and are told they will get three 10 second warnings before they are killed. From the start, the film hints at a desolate, broken society, but we’re never fully immersed in it. We are shown that things are bleak, but we don’t feel the suffocating weight of that world and why these boys have found themselves walking this long road. The focus narrowing to the boys on the road works well for building intimacy, but it leaves the larger societal backdrop undercooked. King’s novel thrived on its unnerving sense of place, that lingering dread of a country gone rotten. On screen, that rot is only surface-level.
Where the film does succeed is in the performances. David Jonsson is a standout as Peter McVries, anchoring the emotional core of the film with charisma and "light in the darkness". The chemistry among the boys is palpable, and you can’t help but be drawn into their fleeting alliances, jokes, and shared suffering. While the Major's rulebook suggests that no friendships be made, our core characters defy him, donning themselves as "The Musketeers". JT Mollner's script delivers dialogue we can believe, keeping us rooted in the times while rooting for the friendships formed. They encourage each other when they fall behind and at times lean on one another even in the face of knowing there can only be one winner at the end of it all.
Mark Hamill, as the Major, gives a chilling performance as the face of authority; a man tasked with delivering empty, motivational speeches to boys who are walking to their deaths. It’s an ironic role, echoing how our so called leaders give hollow rhetoric while ignoring the suffering in front of them. His presence lingers, even when he isn’t on screen. Garraty is a walking protest against what the Major has done and he isn't alone.
Lawrence and his team don’t shy away from the brutal realities of the walk, something he's done well in previous projects like The Hunger Games. The special effects are startling, particularly in the moments of death, which arrive with shocking swiftness. The boys’ struggles with dehydration, exhaustion, and even the mundane horror of using the bathroom while marching are handled with raw honesty, pulling us back into the cruel reality of this ridiculous competition.
In the end, The Long Walk succeeds at pulling us into the moment-to-moment suffering of its characters but falters in giving us the broader scope that made King’s story so grounded. You will care when the boys fall, you will wince at the brutality, and you may even shed a tear. But the larger, suffocating dread of King’s dystopia, the sense of a world so far gone that this horrific spectacle is normal, is ultimately lost along the road.