The Long Walk

 

I like Stephen King. I've read all his writings--novels, novellas, short stories, even the essays and other nonfiction--and I think I have every piece of fiction he's written, right here on the shelves of my home office, except for a couple of special collectors' editions that would probably cost as much as my house. Admittedly, there are a few of his novels--Rose Madder, Cell, Dreamcatcher, etc.--that didn't exactly blow up my skirt, but overall I like just about everything he's had published. My favorite novels are probably The Stand, It, 11/22/63, The Dead Zone, The Green Mile, and Misery; favorite novellas are The Body, Rita Hayworth and Shawshank Redemption, Riding the Bullet, and The Mist; and favorite shorts are "The Last Rung on the Ladder," "The Raft," "The Night Flier," and "Mrs. Todd's Shortcut." 

What I didn't enjoy much were some of the movie and TV adaptations of Stephen King's work. The best ones, to me, were those made from his novellas, like Stand By Me, The Shawshank Redemption, and The Mist--but some of the movies, especially the ones done long ago, didn't work well for me. 

Because I did like some of the more recent adaptations, I found myself looking forward to the fairly-new film version of The Long Walk, from the novel of the same name that was originally published as part of a four-novel collection called The Bachman Books. I bought it in hardcover when it was first released, and before it was officially revealed that Richard Bachman was actually Stephen King. My point is, I enjoyed the novel and I hoped the screen version would be as good.

It was. I wound up watching it last week, on DVD. The ending was a little different from the novel's, but the rest was pretty faithful to the original, and boy was it entertaining. I should mention here, though, that this movie isn't for everyone--it's not only ultra-depressing, it's ultra-violent. But, like the Hunger Games trilogy and other dystopian movies, it's supposed to be violent. In fact, it bears a close resemblance to The Hunger Games for another reason: it's about kids competing to the death in pursuit of vast fame and riches. 

The plot, in a nutshell, is that once a year, fifty teenaged boys--one from each state in the U.S.--are selected to walk together, in a group, under the watchful eye of armed overseers, until only one boy is left standing. If any walker's speed falls below three miles per hour, anytime and for any reason, that person is given three warnings and then executed, on the spot. Contestants are also executed if they stray off the surface of the road. So it's "walk or die," and the competition goes on as long as the boys can last; there is no time limit and no finish line. The winner, who is then given a cash prize and granted any wish he cares to make, succeeds only because he's the last one left alive.

It's an interesting--and terrifying--idea, and one of the points the movie tries to make is that there's always the possibility that the world we currently live in could one day devolve into one that allows this kind of thing.

What really makes this film work, I think (besides the great premise), is the relationship that develops between some of the fifty boys. And that works because of the people they cast in those roles. To me, these kids were completely believable, and I wound up so involved in the story that I caught myself nodding in rhythm to their walking pace during almost the whole thing. Adding to the fascination was a piece of inside info: In order to film the movie, the crew had to stay constantly on the move for the entire shoot. There was no "one" location--they had to physically change all the camera setups every few minutes and every couple of miles. It must've been a herculean effort; I think it's probably the only movie I've ever seen that was filmed this way.

Two things about the casting deserve special mention. One was that the main character was portrayed by Cooper Hoffman, the son of the late great actor Philip Seymour Hoffman--and the son was fantastic in this movie. (It's spooky how much he looks like his dad.) The second thing is that the role of the main overseer, a cruel commander only referred to as The Major, went to--of all people--Mark Hamill. It felt a bit strange to see superhero Luke Skywalker as the sole villain. But it worked.

So that's my take, on this. Have any of you seen this movie? Have you read the novel, probably long ago? If so, what are your thoughts? What did you like about the movie, or not like? Should I end my newly-found career as film critic? How about Stephen King adaptations? Did you like most of them?

Inquiring minds want to know.