The Long Walk film review

It’s been a few days after seeing The Long Walk in the theater, and it continues to haunt me. Adapting Stephen King’s first written novel, the story predates his later “Stand By Me” and “Shawshank Redemption” as well as other teen survivalist works like The Hunger Games, but the DNA of those pieces all find a common ancestor in this story. As a film, it also reminded me a bit of Lord of the Flies and even David Lynch’s elegantly pastoral The Straight Story.

A collection of impoverished youth have volunteered for an unending death march with the sole survivor winning a cash prize and any wish. In the dystopian America ruled by a military junta, it feels like the Great Depression never ended, and we find a core of likable youths banding together knowing all but one will die in some way. The deaths are sporadic and gruesome and moving, each one an emotional gut punch rather than played for thrills; the teen actors, none of whom I knew, were all casually brilliant and distinctive and relatable, fully fleshed out as people. The sole name actor I knew, Like Skywalker himself, was the antagonist maniac Major played full hilt.

The 2 leads are probably the most likable natural pair since Dufrane and Red. One witnessed the Major murder his father for daring to read him the likes of Mark Twain. He veers towards vengeance. The other points out the beauty and good surrounding them. It’s such a simple dichotomy and the film as a whole balances these viewpoints of life. That it’s a long death trap allowing for such real talk is the beauty of the form; characters are always moving, and the cameras are always moving, so you don’t feel like it is slowing down as they explore their lives and philosophies and dreams.

As far as King goes… I tried reading The Stand as a kid, didn’t get into, have kept my distance since. Shawshank and Stand By Me are favorite films, Christine and Misery are on my lengthy “get to watching it eventually” list, no interest in any of the more horrific things or Dark Tower. I can concede he is a great writer on the basis of what people I respect think of his works. This story is clearly a metaphor for Vietnam as a vacuum/ meat grinder for American youth, but in the modern era it’s as good a metaphor for stoic masculinity and never showing weakness or vulnerability for a second in vain hopes of cash and a wish. The world needs more simply told, brutally bleak yet hopeful media.

I absolutely adored this film and found it to be a touching exploration of modern masculinity and desperation of impoverished peoples.