Review: ‘The Long Walk’ is a straight line to one of Stephen King’s darkest concepts

Things are grim in “The Long Walk,” the adaptation of Stephen King’s 1979 novel (published under the pseudonym Richard Bachman) that’s essentially “The Hunger Games” for teenage boys or “They Shoot Horses, Don’t They?” for Gen Z — texts that traffic in the extreme outcomes of American capitalism, a force that rots from within.

“The Long Walk” is the first novel King wrote, one he started around 1966, eight years before his first book, “Carrie,” was published. The plot is simple and incredibly dark: In a dystopian United States under totalitarian rule, 100 teenage boys are selected from a lottery to participate in a contest that only one can win. Whoever survives a multiday, hundreds-of-miles-long walk is rewarded with a hefty monetary prize. Walk until there’s only one left. Slow down and receive a warning. After three warnings, it’s a bullet in the head. The telecast of this walk is intended to inspire workers to increase their productivity.

Cooper Hoffman stars as Ray, one of the hearts of the film. The other is another walker named Pete (David Jonsson). The two young men become fast friends and then brothers on the walk, during which they endure all manner of physical, psychic, emotional, spiritual and mental degradation, along with the other boys whom they befriend, support and battle on the asphalt.

“The Long Walk” is directed by Francis Lawrence, who helmed most of “The Hunger Games” films and prequels, and is scripted by JT Mollner, who wrote and directed 2023’s pop noir “Strange Darling.” It’s a movie that tackles what it means for young people to volunteer for organized barbarism out of desperate need — as well as the consumption of their destruction as entertainment.

There are two audiences at play here, the one within the film itself, like those at a gladiator arena uncritically taking in death and bloodshed, and then there’s us, watching a movie that’s delivering a scathing critique about abuses of power. Lawrence hasn’t quite made the important distinction between these two kinds of audiences, though. We never see the broadcast or who is actually watching this walk, aside from a few cutaways to bored locals on the side of the road. But before the title even flashes on screen, we are granted the disturbingly detailed view of a bullet ripping through the face of a young boy. It signals to the participants on the walk that they’re not to toy with the warnings — and to us watching that this is a film that pulls no punches when it comes to graphic content (in many different ways).

But does it implicate us in this morbid voyeurism? What does it mean to see a child’s head exploded by heavy artillery in a fictional film, when that’s something that regularly happens in schools across America? Pete mentions to Ray that they’ll have to get used to it and Ray responds that’s what he’s worried about. It sounds like the conversation every time a mass shooting happens in America and while it’s a profound piece of dialogue, it’s just that.

Mollner and Lawrence keep the story locked on the boys, never elaborating on this desensitizing idea but continuing to show us the dehumanizing torture they endure. The emotional heft comes from what they learn about each other, especially Pete’s ability to look at life with genuine enthusiasm and beauty, a lesson he imparts to Ray, who has arrived with vengeance on his mind (against the cruel orchestrator of their pain, the Major, played by Mark Hamill) and a broken heart for his mother (Judy Greer). Ray has the critical thinking down, but his journey is an emotional one, learning to see the world through Pete’s eyes but never putting his natural leadership abilities to use in organizing against their oppression.

It’s a stunning showcase for the acting talents of the young ensemble, which also includes Ben Wang, Garrett Wareing, Tut Nyuot, Charlie Plummer and Joshua Odjick. Lawrence is sparing in his style, the image desaturated like a vintage photograph, locating this fable in an unspecified future. The message of “The Long Walk” is muddled, at once hopeful and despairing.

Katie Walsh is a Tribune News Service film critic.

Things are grim in “The Long Walk,” the adaptation of Stephen King’s 1979 novel (published under the pseudonym Richard Bachman) that’s essentially “The Hunger Games” for teenage boys or “They Shoot Horses, Don’t They?” for Gen Z — texts that traffic in the extreme outcomes of American capitalism, a force that rots from within.

“The Long Walk” is the first novel King wrote, one he started around 1966, eight years before his first book, “Carrie,” was published. The plot is simple and incredibly dark: In a dystopian United States under totalitarian rule, 100 teenage boys are selected from a lottery to participate in a contest that only one can win. Whoever survives a multiday, hundreds-of-miles-long walk is rewarded with a hefty monetary prize. Walk until there’s only one left. Slow down and receive a warning. After three warnings, it’s a bullet in the head. The telecast of this walk is intended to inspire workers to increase their productivity.

Cooper Hoffman stars as Ray, one of the hearts of the film. The other is another walker named Pete (David Jonsson). The two young men become fast friends and then brothers on the walk, during which they endure all manner of physical, psychic, emotional, spiritual and mental degradation, along with the other boys whom they befriend, support and battle on the asphalt.

“The Long Walk” is directed by Francis Lawrence, who helmed most of “The Hunger Games” films and prequels, and is scripted by JT Mollner, who wrote and directed 2023’s pop noir “Strange Darling.” It’s a movie that tackles what it means for young people to volunteer for organized barbarism out of desperate need — as well as the consumption of their destruction as entertainment.

There are two audiences at play here, the one within the film itself, like those at a gladiator arena uncritically taking in death and bloodshed, and then there’s us, watching a movie that’s delivering a scathing critique about abuses of power. Lawrence hasn’t quite made the important distinction between these two kinds of audiences, though. We never see the broadcast or who is actually watching this walk, aside from a few cutaways to bored locals on the side of the road. But before the title even flashes on screen, we are granted the disturbingly detailed view of a bullet ripping through the face of a young boy. It signals to the participants on the walk that they’re not to toy with the warnings — and to us watching that this is a film that pulls no punches when it comes to graphic content (in many different ways).

But does it implicate us in this morbid voyeurism? What does it mean to see a child’s head exploded by heavy artillery in a fictional film, when that’s something that regularly happens in schools across America? Pete mentions to Ray that they’ll have to get used to it and Ray responds that’s what he’s worried about. It sounds like the conversation every time a mass shooting happens in America and while it’s a profound piece of dialogue, it’s just that.

Mollner and Lawrence keep the story locked on the boys, never elaborating on this desensitizing idea but continuing to show us the dehumanizing torture they endure. The emotional heft comes from what they learn about each other, especially Pete’s ability to look at life with genuine enthusiasm and beauty, a lesson he imparts to Ray, who has arrived with vengeance on his mind (against the cruel orchestrator of their pain, the Major, played by Mark Hamill) and a broken heart for his mother (Judy Greer). Ray has the critical thinking down, but his journey is an emotional one, learning to see the world through Pete’s eyes but never putting his natural leadership abilities to use in organizing against their oppression.

It’s a stunning showcase for the acting talents of the young ensemble, which also includes Ben Wang, Garrett Wareing, Tut Nyuot, Charlie Plummer and Joshua Odjick. Lawrence is sparing in his style, the image desaturated like a vintage photograph, locating this fable in an unspecified future. The message of “The Long Walk” is muddled, at once hopeful and despairing.

Katie Walsh is a Tribune News Service film critic.

Things are grim in “The Long Walk,” the adaptation of Stephen King’s 1979 novel (published under the pseudonym Richard Bachman) that’s essentially “The Hunger Games” for teenage boys or “They Shoot Horses, Don’t They?” for Gen Z — texts that traffic in the extreme outcomes of American capitalism, a force that rots from within.

“The Long Walk” is the first novel King wrote, one he started around 1966, eight years before his first book, “Carrie,” was published. The plot is simple and incredibly dark: In a dystopian United States under totalitarian rule, 100 teenage boys are selected from a lottery to participate in a contest that only one can win. Whoever survives a multiday, hundreds-of-miles-long walk is rewarded with a hefty monetary prize. Walk until there’s only one left. Slow down and receive a warning. After three warnings, it’s a bullet in the head. The telecast of this walk is intended to inspire workers to increase their productivity.

Cooper Hoffman stars as Ray, one of the hearts of the film. The other is another walker named Pete (David Jonsson). The two young men become fast friends and then brothers on the walk, during which they endure all manner of physical, psychic, emotional, spiritual and mental degradation, along with the other boys whom they befriend, support and battle on the asphalt.

“The Long Walk” is directed by Francis Lawrence, who helmed most of “The Hunger Games” films and prequels, and is scripted by JT Mollner, who wrote and directed 2023’s pop noir “Strange Darling.” It’s a movie that tackles what it means for young people to volunteer for organized barbarism out of desperate need — as well as the consumption of their destruction as entertainment.

There are two audiences at play here, the one within the film itself, like those at a gladiator arena uncritically taking in death and bloodshed, and then there’s us, watching a movie that’s delivering a scathing critique about abuses of power. Lawrence hasn’t quite made the important distinction between these two kinds of audiences, though. We never see the broadcast or who is actually watching this walk, aside from a few cutaways to bored locals on the side of the road. But before the title even flashes on screen, we are granted the disturbingly detailed view of a bullet ripping through the face of a young boy. It signals to the participants on the walk that they’re not to toy with the warnings — and to us watching that this is a film that pulls no punches when it comes to graphic content (in many different ways).

But does it implicate us in this morbid voyeurism? What does it mean to see a child’s head exploded by heavy artillery in a fictional film, when that’s something that regularly happens in schools across America? Pete mentions to Ray that they’ll have to get used to it and Ray responds that’s what he’s worried about. It sounds like the conversation every time a mass shooting happens in America and while it’s a profound piece of dialogue, it’s just that.

Mollner and Lawrence keep the story locked on the boys, never elaborating on this desensitizing idea but continuing to show us the dehumanizing torture they endure. The emotional heft comes from what they learn about each other, especially Pete’s ability to look at life with genuine enthusiasm and beauty, a lesson he imparts to Ray, who has arrived with vengeance on his mind (against the cruel orchestrator of their pain, the Major, played by Mark Hamill) and a broken heart for his mother (Judy Greer). Ray has the critical thinking down, but his journey is an emotional one, learning to see the world through Pete’s eyes but never putting his natural leadership abilities to use in organizing against their oppression.

It’s a stunning showcase for the acting talents of the young ensemble, which also includes Ben Wang, Garrett Wareing, Tut Nyuot, Charlie Plummer and Joshua Odjick. Lawrence is sparing in his style, the image desaturated like a vintage photograph, locating this fable in an unspecified future. The message of “The Long Walk” is muddled, at once hopeful and despairing.

Katie Walsh is a Tribune News Service film critic.

Things are grim in “The Long Walk,” the adaptation of Stephen King’s 1979 novel (published under the pseudonym Richard Bachman) that’s essentially “The Hunger Games” for teenage boys or “They Shoot Horses, Don’t They?” for Gen Z — texts that traffic in the extreme outcomes of American capitalism, a force that rots from within.

“The Long Walk” is the first novel King wrote, one he started around 1966, eight years before his first book, “Carrie,” was published. The plot is simple and incredibly dark: In a dystopian United States under totalitarian rule, 100 teenage boys are selected from a lottery to participate in a contest that only one can win. Whoever survives a multiday, hundreds-of-miles-long walk is rewarded with a hefty monetary prize. Walk until there’s only one left. Slow down and receive a warning. After three warnings, it’s a bullet in the head. The telecast of this walk is intended to inspire workers to increase their productivity.

Cooper Hoffman stars as Ray, one of the hearts of the film. The other is another walker named Pete (David Jonsson). The two young men become fast friends and then brothers on the walk, during which they endure all manner of physical, psychic, emotional, spiritual and mental degradation, along with the other boys whom they befriend, support and battle on the asphalt.

“The Long Walk” is directed by Francis Lawrence, who helmed most of “The Hunger Games” films and prequels, and is scripted by JT Mollner, who wrote and directed 2023’s pop noir “Strange Darling.” It’s a movie that tackles what it means for young people to volunteer for organized barbarism out of desperate need — as well as the consumption of their destruction as entertainment.

There are two audiences at play here, the one within the film itself, like those at a gladiator arena uncritically taking in death and bloodshed, and then there’s us, watching a movie that’s delivering a scathing critique about abuses of power. Lawrence hasn’t quite made the important distinction between these two kinds of audiences, though. We never see the broadcast or who is actually watching this walk, aside from a few cutaways to bored locals on the side of the road. But before the title even flashes on screen, we are granted the disturbingly detailed view of a bullet ripping through the face of a young boy. It signals to the participants on the walk that they’re not to toy with the warnings — and to us watching that this is a film that pulls no punches when it comes to graphic content (in many different ways).

But does it implicate us in this morbid voyeurism? What does it mean to see a child’s head exploded by heavy artillery in a fictional film, when that’s something that regularly happens in schools across America? Pete mentions to Ray that they’ll have to get used to it and Ray responds that’s what he’s worried about. It sounds like the conversation every time a mass shooting happens in America and while it’s a profound piece of dialogue, it’s just that.

Mollner and Lawrence keep the story locked on the boys, never elaborating on this desensitizing idea but continuing to show us the dehumanizing torture they endure. The emotional heft comes from what they learn about each other, especially Pete’s ability to look at life with genuine enthusiasm and beauty, a lesson he imparts to Ray, who has arrived with vengeance on his mind (against the cruel orchestrator of their pain, the Major, played by Mark Hamill) and a broken heart for his mother (Judy Greer). Ray has the critical thinking down, but his journey is an emotional one, learning to see the world through Pete’s eyes but never putting his natural leadership abilities to use in organizing against their oppression.

It’s a stunning showcase for the acting talents of the young ensemble, which also includes Ben Wang, Garrett Wareing, Tut Nyuot, Charlie Plummer and Joshua Odjick. Lawrence is sparing in his style, the image desaturated like a vintage photograph, locating this fable in an unspecified future. The message of “The Long Walk” is muddled, at once hopeful and despairing.

Katie Walsh is a Tribune News Service film critic.

Things are grim in “The Long Walk,” the adaptation of Stephen King’s 1979 novel (published under the pseudonym Richard Bachman) that’s essentially “The Hunger Games” for teenage boys or “They Shoot Horses, Don’t They?” for Gen Z — texts that traffic in the extreme outcomes of American capitalism, a force that rots from within.

“The Long Walk” is the first novel King wrote, one he started around 1966, eight years before his first book, “Carrie,” was published. The plot is simple and incredibly dark: In a dystopian United States under totalitarian rule, 100 teenage boys are selected from a lottery to participate in a contest that only one can win. Whoever survives a multiday, hundreds-of-miles-long walk is rewarded with a hefty monetary prize. Walk until there’s only one left. Slow down and receive a warning. After three warnings, it’s a bullet in the head. The telecast of this walk is intended to inspire workers to increase their productivity.

Cooper Hoffman stars as Ray, one of the hearts of the film. The other is another walker named Pete (David Jonsson). The two young men become fast friends and then brothers on the walk, during which they endure all manner of physical, psychic, emotional, spiritual and mental degradation, along with the other boys whom they befriend, support and battle on the asphalt.

“The Long Walk” is directed by Francis Lawrence, who helmed most of “The Hunger Games” films and prequels, and is scripted by JT Mollner, who wrote and directed 2023’s pop noir “Strange Darling.” It’s a movie that tackles what it means for young people to volunteer for organized barbarism out of desperate need — as well as the consumption of their destruction as entertainment.

There are two audiences at play here, the one within the film itself, like those at a gladiator arena uncritically taking in death and bloodshed, and then there’s us, watching a movie that’s delivering a scathing critique about abuses of power. Lawrence hasn’t quite made the important distinction between these two kinds of audiences, though. We never see the broadcast or who is actually watching this walk, aside from a few cutaways to bored locals on the side of the road. But before the title even flashes on screen, we are granted the disturbingly detailed view of a bullet ripping through the face of a young boy. It signals to the participants on the walk that they’re not to toy with the warnings — and to us watching that this is a film that pulls no punches when it comes to graphic content (in many different ways).

But does it implicate us in this morbid voyeurism? What does it mean to see a child’s head exploded by heavy artillery in a fictional film, when that’s something that regularly happens in schools across America? Pete mentions to Ray that they’ll have to get used to it and Ray responds that’s what he’s worried about. It sounds like the conversation every time a mass shooting happens in America and while it’s a profound piece of dialogue, it’s just that.

Mollner and Lawrence keep the story locked on the boys, never elaborating on this desensitizing idea but continuing to show us the dehumanizing torture they endure. The emotional heft comes from what they learn about each other, especially Pete’s ability to look at life with genuine enthusiasm and beauty, a lesson he imparts to Ray, who has arrived with vengeance on his mind (against the cruel orchestrator of their pain, the Major, played by Mark Hamill) and a broken heart for his mother (Judy Greer). Ray has the critical thinking down, but his journey is an emotional one, learning to see the world through Pete’s eyes but never putting his natural leadership abilities to use in organizing against their oppression.

It’s a stunning showcase for the acting talents of the young ensemble, which also includes Ben Wang, Garrett Wareing, Tut Nyuot, Charlie Plummer and Joshua Odjick. Lawrence is sparing in his style, the image desaturated like a vintage photograph, locating this fable in an unspecified future. The message of “The Long Walk” is muddled, at once hopeful and despairing.

Katie Walsh is a Tribune News Service film critic.

Things are grim in “The Long Walk,” the adaptation of Stephen King’s 1979 novel (published under the pseudonym Richard Bachman) that’s essentially “The Hunger Games” for teenage boys or “They Shoot Horses, Don’t They?” for Gen Z — texts that traffic in the extreme outcomes of American capitalism, a force that rots from within.

“The Long Walk” is the first novel King wrote, one he started around 1966, eight years before his first book, “Carrie,” was published. The plot is simple and incredibly dark: In a dystopian United States under totalitarian rule, 100 teenage boys are selected from a lottery to participate in a contest that only one can win. Whoever survives a multiday, hundreds-of-miles-long walk is rewarded with a hefty monetary prize. Walk until there’s only one left. Slow down and receive a warning. After three warnings, it’s a bullet in the head. The telecast of this walk is intended to inspire workers to increase their productivity.

Cooper Hoffman stars as Ray, one of the hearts of the film. The other is another walker named Pete (David Jonsson). The two young men become fast friends and then brothers on the walk, during which they endure all manner of physical, psychic, emotional, spiritual and mental degradation, along with the other boys whom they befriend, support and battle on the asphalt.

“The Long Walk” is directed by Francis Lawrence, who helmed most of “The Hunger Games” films and prequels, and is scripted by JT Mollner, who wrote and directed 2023’s pop noir “Strange Darling.” It’s a movie that tackles what it means for young people to volunteer for organized barbarism out of desperate need — as well as the consumption of their destruction as entertainment.

There are two audiences at play here, the one within the film itself, like those at a gladiator arena uncritically taking in death and bloodshed, and then there’s us, watching a movie that’s delivering a scathing critique about abuses of power. Lawrence hasn’t quite made the important distinction between these two kinds of audiences, though. We never see the broadcast or who is actually watching this walk, aside from a few cutaways to bored locals on the side of the road. But before the title even flashes on screen, we are granted the disturbingly detailed view of a bullet ripping through the face of a young boy. It signals to the participants on the walk that they’re not to toy with the warnings — and to us watching that this is a film that pulls no punches when it comes to graphic content (in many different ways).

But does it implicate us in this morbid voyeurism? What does it mean to see a child’s head exploded by heavy artillery in a fictional film, when that’s something that regularly happens in schools across America? Pete mentions to Ray that they’ll have to get used to it and Ray responds that’s what he’s worried about. It sounds like the conversation every time a mass shooting happens in America and while it’s a profound piece of dialogue, it’s just that.

Mollner and Lawrence keep the story locked on the boys, never elaborating on this desensitizing idea but continuing to show us the dehumanizing torture they endure. The emotional heft comes from what they learn about each other, especially Pete’s ability to look at life with genuine enthusiasm and beauty, a lesson he imparts to Ray, who has arrived with vengeance on his mind (against the cruel orchestrator of their pain, the Major, played by Mark Hamill) and a broken heart for his mother (Judy Greer). Ray has the critical thinking down, but his journey is an emotional one, learning to see the world through Pete’s eyes but never putting his natural leadership abilities to use in organizing against their oppression.

It’s a stunning showcase for the acting talents of the young ensemble, which also includes Ben Wang, Garrett Wareing, Tut Nyuot, Charlie Plummer and Joshua Odjick. Lawrence is sparing in his style, the image desaturated like a vintage photograph, locating this fable in an unspecified future. The message of “The Long Walk” is muddled, at once hopeful and despairing.

Katie Walsh is a Tribune News Service film critic.

Things are grim in “The Long Walk,” the adaptation of Stephen King’s 1979 novel (published under the pseudonym Richard Bachman) that’s essentially “The Hunger Games” for teenage boys or “They Shoot Horses, Don’t They?” for Gen Z — texts that traffic in the extreme outcomes of American capitalism, a force that rots from within.

“The Long Walk” is the first novel King wrote, one he started around 1966, eight years before his first book, “Carrie,” was published. The plot is simple and incredibly dark: In a dystopian United States under totalitarian rule, 100 teenage boys are selected from a lottery to participate in a contest that only one can win. Whoever survives a multiday, hundreds-of-miles-long walk is rewarded with a hefty monetary prize. Walk until there’s only one left. Slow down and receive a warning. After three warnings, it’s a bullet in the head. The telecast of this walk is intended to inspire workers to increase their productivity.

Cooper Hoffman stars as Ray, one of the hearts of the film. The other is another walker named Pete (David Jonsson). The two young men become fast friends and then brothers on the walk, during which they endure all manner of physical, psychic, emotional, spiritual and mental degradation, along with the other boys whom they befriend, support and battle on the asphalt.

“The Long Walk” is directed by Francis Lawrence, who helmed most of “The Hunger Games” films and prequels, and is scripted by JT Mollner, who wrote and directed 2023’s pop noir “Strange Darling.” It’s a movie that tackles what it means for young people to volunteer for organized barbarism out of desperate need — as well as the consumption of their destruction as entertainment.

There are two audiences at play here, the one within the film itself, like those at a gladiator arena uncritically taking in death and bloodshed, and then there’s us, watching a movie that’s delivering a scathing critique about abuses of power. Lawrence hasn’t quite made the important distinction between these two kinds of audiences, though. We never see the broadcast or who is actually watching this walk, aside from a few cutaways to bored locals on the side of the road. But before the title even flashes on screen, we are granted the disturbingly detailed view of a bullet ripping through the face of a young boy. It signals to the participants on the walk that they’re not to toy with the warnings — and to us watching that this is a film that pulls no punches when it comes to graphic content (in many different ways).

But does it implicate us in this morbid voyeurism? What does it mean to see a child’s head exploded by heavy artillery in a fictional film, when that’s something that regularly happens in schools across America? Pete mentions to Ray that they’ll have to get used to it and Ray responds that’s what he’s worried about. It sounds like the conversation every time a mass shooting happens in America and while it’s a profound piece of dialogue, it’s just that.

Mollner and Lawrence keep the story locked on the boys, never elaborating on this desensitizing idea but continuing to show us the dehumanizing torture they endure. The emotional heft comes from what they learn about each other, especially Pete’s ability to look at life with genuine enthusiasm and beauty, a lesson he imparts to Ray, who has arrived with vengeance on his mind (against the cruel orchestrator of their pain, the Major, played by Mark Hamill) and a broken heart for his mother (Judy Greer). Ray has the critical thinking down, but his journey is an emotional one, learning to see the world through Pete’s eyes but never putting his natural leadership abilities to use in organizing against their oppression.

It’s a stunning showcase for the acting talents of the young ensemble, which also includes Ben Wang, Garrett Wareing, Tut Nyuot, Charlie Plummer and Joshua Odjick. Lawrence is sparing in his style, the image desaturated like a vintage photograph, locating this fable in an unspecified future. The message of “The Long Walk” is muddled, at once hopeful and despairing.

Katie Walsh is a Tribune News Service film critic.

Things are grim in “The Long Walk,” the adaptation of Stephen King’s 1979 novel (published under the pseudonym Richard Bachman) that’s essentially “The Hunger Games” for teenage boys or “They Shoot Horses, Don’t They?” for Gen Z — texts that traffic in the extreme outcomes of American capitalism, a force that rots from within.

“The Long Walk” is the first novel King wrote, one he started around 1966, eight years before his first book, “Carrie,” was published. The plot is simple and incredibly dark: In a dystopian United States under totalitarian rule, 100 teenage boys are selected from a lottery to participate in a contest that only one can win. Whoever survives a multiday, hundreds-of-miles-long walk is rewarded with a hefty monetary prize. Walk until there’s only one left. Slow down and receive a warning. After three warnings, it’s a bullet in the head. The telecast of this walk is intended to inspire workers to increase their productivity.

Cooper Hoffman stars as Ray, one of the hearts of the film. The other is another walker named Pete (David Jonsson). The two young men become fast friends and then brothers on the walk, during which they endure all manner of physical, psychic, emotional, spiritual and mental degradation, along with the other boys whom they befriend, support and battle on the asphalt.

“The Long Walk” is directed by Francis Lawrence, who helmed most of “The Hunger Games” films and prequels, and is scripted by JT Mollner, who wrote and directed 2023’s pop noir “Strange Darling.” It’s a movie that tackles what it means for young people to volunteer for organized barbarism out of desperate need — as well as the consumption of their destruction as entertainment.

There are two audiences at play here, the one within the film itself, like those at a gladiator arena uncritically taking in death and bloodshed, and then there’s us, watching a movie that’s delivering a scathing critique about abuses of power. Lawrence hasn’t quite made the important distinction between these two kinds of audiences, though. We never see the broadcast or who is actually watching this walk, aside from a few cutaways to bored locals on the side of the road. But before the title even flashes on screen, we are granted the disturbingly detailed view of a bullet ripping through the face of a young boy. It signals to the participants on the walk that they’re not to toy with the warnings — and to us watching that this is a film that pulls no punches when it comes to graphic content (in many different ways).

But does it implicate us in this morbid voyeurism? What does it mean to see a child’s head exploded by heavy artillery in a fictional film, when that’s something that regularly happens in schools across America? Pete mentions to Ray that they’ll have to get used to it and Ray responds that’s what he’s worried about. It sounds like the conversation every time a mass shooting happens in America and while it’s a profound piece of dialogue, it’s just that.

Mollner and Lawrence keep the story locked on the boys, never elaborating on this desensitizing idea but continuing to show us the dehumanizing torture they endure. The emotional heft comes from what they learn about each other, especially Pete’s ability to look at life with genuine enthusiasm and beauty, a lesson he imparts to Ray, who has arrived with vengeance on his mind (against the cruel orchestrator of their pain, the Major, played by Mark Hamill) and a broken heart for his mother (Judy Greer). Ray has the critical thinking down, but his journey is an emotional one, learning to see the world through Pete’s eyes but never putting his natural leadership abilities to use in organizing against their oppression.

It’s a stunning showcase for the acting talents of the young ensemble, which also includes Ben Wang, Garrett Wareing, Tut Nyuot, Charlie Plummer and Joshua Odjick. Lawrence is sparing in his style, the image desaturated like a vintage photograph, locating this fable in an unspecified future. The message of “The Long Walk” is muddled, at once hopeful and despairing.

Katie Walsh is a Tribune News Service film critic.

Things are grim in “The Long Walk,” the adaptation of Stephen King’s 1979 novel (published under the pseudonym Richard Bachman) that’s essentially “The Hunger Games” for teenage boys or “They Shoot Horses, Don’t They?” for Gen Z — texts that traffic in the extreme outcomes of American capitalism, a force that rots from within.

“The Long Walk” is the first novel King wrote, one he started around 1966, eight years before his first book, “Carrie,” was published. The plot is simple and incredibly dark: In a dystopian United States under totalitarian rule, 100 teenage boys are selected from a lottery to participate in a contest that only one can win. Whoever survives a multiday, hundreds-of-miles-long walk is rewarded with a hefty monetary prize. Walk until there’s only one left. Slow down and receive a warning. After three warnings, it’s a bullet in the head. The telecast of this walk is intended to inspire workers to increase their productivity.

Cooper Hoffman stars as Ray, one of the hearts of the film. The other is another walker named Pete (David Jonsson). The two young men become fast friends and then brothers on the walk, during which they endure all manner of physical, psychic, emotional, spiritual and mental degradation, along with the other boys whom they befriend, support and battle on the asphalt.

“The Long Walk” is directed by Francis Lawrence, who helmed most of “The Hunger Games” films and prequels, and is scripted by JT Mollner, who wrote and directed 2023’s pop noir “Strange Darling.” It’s a movie that tackles what it means for young people to volunteer for organized barbarism out of desperate need — as well as the consumption of their destruction as entertainment.

There are two audiences at play here, the one within the film itself, like those at a gladiator arena uncritically taking in death and bloodshed, and then there’s us, watching a movie that’s delivering a scathing critique about abuses of power. Lawrence hasn’t quite made the important distinction between these two kinds of audiences, though. We never see the broadcast or who is actually watching this walk, aside from a few cutaways to bored locals on the side of the road. But before the title even flashes on screen, we are granted the disturbingly detailed view of a bullet ripping through the face of a young boy. It signals to the participants on the walk that they’re not to toy with the warnings — and to us watching that this is a film that pulls no punches when it comes to graphic content (in many different ways).

But does it implicate us in this morbid voyeurism? What does it mean to see a child’s head exploded by heavy artillery in a fictional film, when that’s something that regularly happens in schools across America? Pete mentions to Ray that they’ll have to get used to it and Ray responds that’s what he’s worried about. It sounds like the conversation every time a mass shooting happens in America and while it’s a profound piece of dialogue, it’s just that.

Mollner and Lawrence keep the story locked on the boys, never elaborating on this desensitizing idea but continuing to show us the dehumanizing torture they endure. The emotional heft comes from what they learn about each other, especially Pete’s ability to look at life with genuine enthusiasm and beauty, a lesson he imparts to Ray, who has arrived with vengeance on his mind (against the cruel orchestrator of their pain, the Major, played by Mark Hamill) and a broken heart for his mother (Judy Greer). Ray has the critical thinking down, but his journey is an emotional one, learning to see the world through Pete’s eyes but never putting his natural leadership abilities to use in organizing against their oppression.

It’s a stunning showcase for the acting talents of the young ensemble, which also includes Ben Wang, Garrett Wareing, Tut Nyuot, Charlie Plummer and Joshua Odjick. Lawrence is sparing in his style, the image desaturated like a vintage photograph, locating this fable in an unspecified future. The message of “The Long Walk” is muddled, at once hopeful and despairing.

Katie Walsh is a Tribune News Service film critic.

Things are grim in “The Long Walk,” the adaptation of Stephen King’s 1979 novel (published under the pseudonym Richard Bachman) that’s essentially “The Hunger Games” for teenage boys or “They Shoot Horses, Don’t They?” for Gen Z — texts that traffic in the extreme outcomes of American capitalism, a force that rots from within.

“The Long Walk” is the first novel King wrote, one he started around 1966, eight years before his first book, “Carrie,” was published. The plot is simple and incredibly dark: In a dystopian United States under totalitarian rule, 100 teenage boys are selected from a lottery to participate in a contest that only one can win. Whoever survives a multiday, hundreds-of-miles-long walk is rewarded with a hefty monetary prize. Walk until there’s only one left. Slow down and receive a warning. After three warnings, it’s a bullet in the head. The telecast of this walk is intended to inspire workers to increase their productivity.

Cooper Hoffman stars as Ray, one of the hearts of the film. The other is another walker named Pete (David Jonsson). The two young men become fast friends and then brothers on the walk, during which they endure all manner of physical, psychic, emotional, spiritual and mental degradation, along with the other boys whom they befriend, support and battle on the asphalt.

“The Long Walk” is directed by Francis Lawrence, who helmed most of “The Hunger Games” films and prequels, and is scripted by JT Mollner, who wrote and directed 2023’s pop noir “Strange Darling.” It’s a movie that tackles what it means for young people to volunteer for organized barbarism out of desperate need — as well as the consumption of their destruction as entertainment.

There are two audiences at play here, the one within the film itself, like those at a gladiator arena uncritically taking in death and bloodshed, and then there’s us, watching a movie that’s delivering a scathing critique about abuses of power. Lawrence hasn’t quite made the important distinction between these two kinds of audiences, though. We never see the broadcast or who is actually watching this walk, aside from a few cutaways to bored locals on the side of the road. But before the title even flashes on screen, we are granted the disturbingly detailed view of a bullet ripping through the face of a young boy. It signals to the participants on the walk that they’re not to toy with the warnings — and to us watching that this is a film that pulls no punches when it comes to graphic content (in many different ways).

But does it implicate us in this morbid voyeurism? What does it mean to see a child’s head exploded by heavy artillery in a fictional film, when that’s something that regularly happens in schools across America? Pete mentions to Ray that they’ll have to get used to it and Ray responds that’s what he’s worried about. It sounds like the conversation every time a mass shooting happens in America and while it’s a profound piece of dialogue, it’s just that.

Mollner and Lawrence keep the story locked on the boys, never elaborating on this desensitizing idea but continuing to show us the dehumanizing torture they endure. The emotional heft comes from what they learn about each other, especially Pete’s ability to look at life with genuine enthusiasm and beauty, a lesson he imparts to Ray, who has arrived with vengeance on his mind (against the cruel orchestrator of their pain, the Major, played by Mark Hamill) and a broken heart for his mother (Judy Greer). Ray has the critical thinking down, but his journey is an emotional one, learning to see the world through Pete’s eyes but never putting his natural leadership abilities to use in organizing against their oppression.

It’s a stunning showcase for the acting talents of the young ensemble, which also includes Ben Wang, Garrett Wareing, Tut Nyuot, Charlie Plummer and Joshua Odjick. Lawrence is sparing in his style, the image desaturated like a vintage photograph, locating this fable in an unspecified future. The message of “The Long Walk” is muddled, at once hopeful and despairing.

Katie Walsh is a Tribune News Service film critic.

Things are grim in “The Long Walk,” the adaptation of Stephen King’s 1979 novel (published under the pseudonym Richard Bachman) that’s essentially “The Hunger Games” for teenage boys or “They Shoot Horses, Don’t They?” for Gen Z — texts that traffic in the extreme outcomes of American capitalism, a force that rots from within.

“The Long Walk” is the first novel King wrote, one he started around 1966, eight years before his first book, “Carrie,” was published. The plot is simple and incredibly dark: In a dystopian United States under totalitarian rule, 100 teenage boys are selected from a lottery to participate in a contest that only one can win. Whoever survives a multiday, hundreds-of-miles-long walk is rewarded with a hefty monetary prize. Walk until there’s only one left. Slow down and receive a warning. After three warnings, it’s a bullet in the head. The telecast of this walk is intended to inspire workers to increase their productivity.

Cooper Hoffman stars as Ray, one of the hearts of the film. The other is another walker named Pete (David Jonsson). The two young men become fast friends and then brothers on the walk, during which they endure all manner of physical, psychic, emotional, spiritual and mental degradation, along with the other boys whom they befriend, support and battle on the asphalt.

“The Long Walk” is directed by Francis Lawrence, who helmed most of “The Hunger Games” films and prequels, and is scripted by JT Mollner, who wrote and directed 2023’s pop noir “Strange Darling.” It’s a movie that tackles what it means for young people to volunteer for organized barbarism out of desperate need — as well as the consumption of their destruction as entertainment.

There are two audiences at play here, the one within the film itself, like those at a gladiator arena uncritically taking in death and bloodshed, and then there’s us, watching a movie that’s delivering a scathing critique about abuses of power. Lawrence hasn’t quite made the important distinction between these two kinds of audiences, though. We never see the broadcast or who is actually watching this walk, aside from a few cutaways to bored locals on the side of the road. But before the title even flashes on screen, we are granted the disturbingly detailed view of a bullet ripping through the face of a young boy. It signals to the participants on the walk that they’re not to toy with the warnings — and to us watching that this is a film that pulls no punches when it comes to graphic content (in many different ways).

But does it implicate us in this morbid voyeurism? What does it mean to see a child’s head exploded by heavy artillery in a fictional film, when that’s something that regularly happens in schools across America? Pete mentions to Ray that they’ll have to get used to it and Ray responds that’s what he’s worried about. It sounds like the conversation every time a mass shooting happens in America and while it’s a profound piece of dialogue, it’s just that.

Mollner and Lawrence keep the story locked on the boys, never elaborating on this desensitizing idea but continuing to show us the dehumanizing torture they endure. The emotional heft comes from what they learn about each other, especially Pete’s ability to look at life with genuine enthusiasm and beauty, a lesson he imparts to Ray, who has arrived with vengeance on his mind (against the cruel orchestrator of their pain, the Major, played by Mark Hamill) and a broken heart for his mother (Judy Greer). Ray has the critical thinking down, but his journey is an emotional one, learning to see the world through Pete’s eyes but never putting his natural leadership abilities to use in organizing against their oppression.

It’s a stunning showcase for the acting talents of the young ensemble, which also includes Ben Wang, Garrett Wareing, Tut Nyuot, Charlie Plummer and Joshua Odjick. Lawrence is sparing in his style, the image desaturated like a vintage photograph, locating this fable in an unspecified future. The message of “The Long Walk” is muddled, at once hopeful and despairing.

Katie Walsh is a Tribune News Service film critic.

Things are grim in “The Long Walk,” the adaptation of Stephen King’s 1979 novel (published under the pseudonym Richard Bachman) that’s essentially “The Hunger Games” for teenage boys or “They Shoot Horses, Don’t They?” for Gen Z — texts that traffic in the extreme outcomes of American capitalism, a force that rots from within.

“The Long Walk” is the first novel King wrote, one he started around 1966, eight years before his first book, “Carrie,” was published. The plot is simple and incredibly dark: In a dystopian United States under totalitarian rule, 100 teenage boys are selected from a lottery to participate in a contest that only one can win. Whoever survives a multiday, hundreds-of-miles-long walk is rewarded with a hefty monetary prize. Walk until there’s only one left. Slow down and receive a warning. After three warnings, it’s a bullet in the head. The telecast of this walk is intended to inspire workers to increase their productivity.

Cooper Hoffman stars as Ray, one of the hearts of the film. The other is another walker named Pete (David Jonsson). The two young men become fast friends and then brothers on the walk, during which they endure all manner of physical, psychic, emotional, spiritual and mental degradation, along with the other boys whom they befriend, support and battle on the asphalt.

“The Long Walk” is directed by Francis Lawrence, who helmed most of “The Hunger Games” films and prequels, and is scripted by JT Mollner, who wrote and directed 2023’s pop noir “Strange Darling.” It’s a movie that tackles what it means for young people to volunteer for organized barbarism out of desperate need — as well as the consumption of their destruction as entertainment.

There are two audiences at play here, the one within the film itself, like those at a gladiator arena uncritically taking in death and bloodshed, and then there’s us, watching a movie that’s delivering a scathing critique about abuses of power. Lawrence hasn’t quite made the important distinction between these two kinds of audiences, though. We never see the broadcast or who is actually watching this walk, aside from a few cutaways to bored locals on the side of the road. But before the title even flashes on screen, we are granted the disturbingly detailed view of a bullet ripping through the face of a young boy. It signals to the participants on the walk that they’re not to toy with the warnings — and to us watching that this is a film that pulls no punches when it comes to graphic content (in many different ways).

But does it implicate us in this morbid voyeurism? What does it mean to see a child’s head exploded by heavy artillery in a fictional film, when that’s something that regularly happens in schools across America? Pete mentions to Ray that they’ll have to get used to it and Ray responds that’s what he’s worried about. It sounds like the conversation every time a mass shooting happens in America and while it’s a profound piece of dialogue, it’s just that.

Mollner and Lawrence keep the story locked on the boys, never elaborating on this desensitizing idea but continuing to show us the dehumanizing torture they endure. The emotional heft comes from what they learn about each other, especially Pete’s ability to look at life with genuine enthusiasm and beauty, a lesson he imparts to Ray, who has arrived with vengeance on his mind (against the cruel orchestrator of their pain, the Major, played by Mark Hamill) and a broken heart for his mother (Judy Greer). Ray has the critical thinking down, but his journey is an emotional one, learning to see the world through Pete’s eyes but never putting his natural leadership abilities to use in organizing against their oppression.

It’s a stunning showcase for the acting talents of the young ensemble, which also includes Ben Wang, Garrett Wareing, Tut Nyuot, Charlie Plummer and Joshua Odjick. Lawrence is sparing in his style, the image desaturated like a vintage photograph, locating this fable in an unspecified future. The message of “The Long Walk” is muddled, at once hopeful and despairing.

Katie Walsh is a Tribune News Service film critic.

Things are grim in “The Long Walk,” the adaptation of Stephen King’s 1979 novel (published under the pseudonym Richard Bachman) that’s essentially “The Hunger Games” for teenage boys or “They Shoot Horses, Don’t They?” for Gen Z — texts that traffic in the extreme outcomes of American capitalism, a force that rots from within.

“The Long Walk” is the first novel King wrote, one he started around 1966, eight years before his first book, “Carrie,” was published. The plot is simple and incredibly dark: In a dystopian United States under totalitarian rule, 100 teenage boys are selected from a lottery to participate in a contest that only one can win. Whoever survives a multiday, hundreds-of-miles-long walk is rewarded with a hefty monetary prize. Walk until there’s only one left. Slow down and receive a warning. After three warnings, it’s a bullet in the head. The telecast of this walk is intended to inspire workers to increase their productivity.

Cooper Hoffman stars as Ray, one of the hearts of the film. The other is another walker named Pete (David Jonsson). The two young men become fast friends and then brothers on the walk, during which they endure all manner of physical, psychic, emotional, spiritual and mental degradation, along with the other boys whom they befriend, support and battle on the asphalt.

“The Long Walk” is directed by Francis Lawrence, who helmed most of “The Hunger Games” films and prequels, and is scripted by JT Mollner, who wrote and directed 2023’s pop noir “Strange Darling.” It’s a movie that tackles what it means for young people to volunteer for organized barbarism out of desperate need — as well as the consumption of their destruction as entertainment.

There are two audiences at play here, the one within the film itself, like those at a gladiator arena uncritically taking in death and bloodshed, and then there’s us, watching a movie that’s delivering a scathing critique about abuses of power. Lawrence hasn’t quite made the important distinction between these two kinds of audiences, though. We never see the broadcast or who is actually watching this walk, aside from a few cutaways to bored locals on the side of the road. But before the title even flashes on screen, we are granted the disturbingly detailed view of a bullet ripping through the face of a young boy. It signals to the participants on the walk that they’re not to toy with the warnings — and to us watching that this is a film that pulls no punches when it comes to graphic content (in many different ways).

But does it implicate us in this morbid voyeurism? What does it mean to see a child’s head exploded by heavy artillery in a fictional film, when that’s something that regularly happens in schools across America? Pete mentions to Ray that they’ll have to get used to it and Ray responds that’s what he’s worried about. It sounds like the conversation every time a mass shooting happens in America and while it’s a profound piece of dialogue, it’s just that.

Mollner and Lawrence keep the story locked on the boys, never elaborating on this desensitizing idea but continuing to show us the dehumanizing torture they endure. The emotional heft comes from what they learn about each other, especially Pete’s ability to look at life with genuine enthusiasm and beauty, a lesson he imparts to Ray, who has arrived with vengeance on his mind (against the cruel orchestrator of their pain, the Major, played by Mark Hamill) and a broken heart for his mother (Judy Greer). Ray has the critical thinking down, but his journey is an emotional one, learning to see the world through Pete’s eyes but never putting his natural leadership abilities to use in organizing against their oppression.

It’s a stunning showcase for the acting talents of the young ensemble, which also includes Ben Wang, Garrett Wareing, Tut Nyuot, Charlie Plummer and Joshua Odjick. Lawrence is sparing in his style, the image desaturated like a vintage photograph, locating this fable in an unspecified future. The message of “The Long Walk” is muddled, at once hopeful and despairing.

Katie Walsh is a Tribune News Service film critic.

Things are grim in “The Long Walk,” the adaptation of Stephen King’s 1979 novel (published under the pseudonym Richard Bachman) that’s essentially “The Hunger Games” for teenage boys or “They Shoot Horses, Don’t They?” for Gen Z — texts that traffic in the extreme outcomes of American capitalism, a force that rots from within.

“The Long Walk” is the first novel King wrote, one he started around 1966, eight years before his first book, “Carrie,” was published. The plot is simple and incredibly dark: In a dystopian United States under totalitarian rule, 100 teenage boys are selected from a lottery to participate in a contest that only one can win. Whoever survives a multiday, hundreds-of-miles-long walk is rewarded with a hefty monetary prize. Walk until there’s only one left. Slow down and receive a warning. After three warnings, it’s a bullet in the head. The telecast of this walk is intended to inspire workers to increase their productivity.

Cooper Hoffman stars as Ray, one of the hearts of the film. The other is another walker named Pete (David Jonsson). The two young men become fast friends and then brothers on the walk, during which they endure all manner of physical, psychic, emotional, spiritual and mental degradation, along with the other boys whom they befriend, support and battle on the asphalt.

“The Long Walk” is directed by Francis Lawrence, who helmed most of “The Hunger Games” films and prequels, and is scripted by JT Mollner, who wrote and directed 2023’s pop noir “Strange Darling.” It’s a movie that tackles what it means for young people to volunteer for organized barbarism out of desperate need — as well as the consumption of their destruction as entertainment.

There are two audiences at play here, the one within the film itself, like those at a gladiator arena uncritically taking in death and bloodshed, and then there’s us, watching a movie that’s delivering a scathing critique about abuses of power. Lawrence hasn’t quite made the important distinction between these two kinds of audiences, though. We never see the broadcast or who is actually watching this walk, aside from a few cutaways to bored locals on the side of the road. But before the title even flashes on screen, we are granted the disturbingly detailed view of a bullet ripping through the face of a young boy. It signals to the participants on the walk that they’re not to toy with the warnings — and to us watching that this is a film that pulls no punches when it comes to graphic content (in many different ways).

But does it implicate us in this morbid voyeurism? What does it mean to see a child’s head exploded by heavy artillery in a fictional film, when that’s something that regularly happens in schools across America? Pete mentions to Ray that they’ll have to get used to it and Ray responds that’s what he’s worried about. It sounds like the conversation every time a mass shooting happens in America and while it’s a profound piece of dialogue, it’s just that.

Mollner and Lawrence keep the story locked on the boys, never elaborating on this desensitizing idea but continuing to show us the dehumanizing torture they endure. The emotional heft comes from what they learn about each other, especially Pete’s ability to look at life with genuine enthusiasm and beauty, a lesson he imparts to Ray, who has arrived with vengeance on his mind (against the cruel orchestrator of their pain, the Major, played by Mark Hamill) and a broken heart for his mother (Judy Greer). Ray has the critical thinking down, but his journey is an emotional one, learning to see the world through Pete’s eyes but never putting his natural leadership abilities to use in organizing against their oppression.

It’s a stunning showcase for the acting talents of the young ensemble, which also includes Ben Wang, Garrett Wareing, Tut Nyuot, Charlie Plummer and Joshua Odjick. Lawrence is sparing in his style, the image desaturated like a vintage photograph, locating this fable in an unspecified future. The message of “The Long Walk” is muddled, at once hopeful and despairing.

Katie Walsh is a Tribune News Service film critic.

Things are grim in “The Long Walk,” the adaptation of Stephen King’s 1979 novel (published under the pseudonym Richard Bachman) that’s essentially “The Hunger Games” for teenage boys or “They Shoot Horses, Don’t They?” for Gen Z — texts that traffic in the extreme outcomes of American capitalism, a force that rots from within.

“The Long Walk” is the first novel King wrote, one he started around 1966, eight years before his first book, “Carrie,” was published. The plot is simple and incredibly dark: In a dystopian United States under totalitarian rule, 100 teenage boys are selected from a lottery to participate in a contest that only one can win. Whoever survives a multiday, hundreds-of-miles-long walk is rewarded with a hefty monetary prize. Walk until there’s only one left. Slow down and receive a warning. After three warnings, it’s a bullet in the head. The telecast of this walk is intended to inspire workers to increase their productivity.

Cooper Hoffman stars as Ray, one of the hearts of the film. The other is another walker named Pete (David Jonsson). The two young men become fast friends and then brothers on the walk, during which they endure all manner of physical, psychic, emotional, spiritual and mental degradation, along with the other boys whom they befriend, support and battle on the asphalt.

“The Long Walk” is directed by Francis Lawrence, who helmed most of “The Hunger Games” films and prequels, and is scripted by JT Mollner, who wrote and directed 2023’s pop noir “Strange Darling.” It’s a movie that tackles what it means for young people to volunteer for organized barbarism out of desperate need — as well as the consumption of their destruction as entertainment.

There are two audiences at play here, the one within the film itself, like those at a gladiator arena uncritically taking in death and bloodshed, and then there’s us, watching a movie that’s delivering a scathing critique about abuses of power. Lawrence hasn’t quite made the important distinction between these two kinds of audiences, though. We never see the broadcast or who is actually watching this walk, aside from a few cutaways to bored locals on the side of the road. But before the title even flashes on screen, we are granted the disturbingly detailed view of a bullet ripping through the face of a young boy. It signals to the participants on the walk that they’re not to toy with the warnings — and to us watching that this is a film that pulls no punches when it comes to graphic content (in many different ways).

But does it implicate us in this morbid voyeurism? What does it mean to see a child’s head exploded by heavy artillery in a fictional film, when that’s something that regularly happens in schools across America? Pete mentions to Ray that they’ll have to get used to it and Ray responds that’s what he’s worried about. It sounds like the conversation every time a mass shooting happens in America and while it’s a profound piece of dialogue, it’s just that.

Mollner and Lawrence keep the story locked on the boys, never elaborating on this desensitizing idea but continuing to show us the dehumanizing torture they endure. The emotional heft comes from what they learn about each other, especially Pete’s ability to look at life with genuine enthusiasm and beauty, a lesson he imparts to Ray, who has arrived with vengeance on his mind (against the cruel orchestrator of their pain, the Major, played by Mark Hamill) and a broken heart for his mother (Judy Greer). Ray has the critical thinking down, but his journey is an emotional one, learning to see the world through Pete’s eyes but never putting his natural leadership abilities to use in organizing against their oppression.

It’s a stunning showcase for the acting talents of the young ensemble, which also includes Ben Wang, Garrett Wareing, Tut Nyuot, Charlie Plummer and Joshua Odjick. Lawrence is sparing in his style, the image desaturated like a vintage photograph, locating this fable in an unspecified future. The message of “The Long Walk” is muddled, at once hopeful and despairing.

Katie Walsh is a Tribune News Service film critic.

Things are grim in “The Long Walk,” the adaptation of Stephen King’s 1979 novel (published under the pseudonym Richard Bachman) that’s essentially “The Hunger Games” for teenage boys or “They Shoot Horses, Don’t They?” for Gen Z — texts that traffic in the extreme outcomes of American capitalism, a force that rots from within.

“The Long Walk” is the first novel King wrote, one he started around 1966, eight years before his first book, “Carrie,” was published. The plot is simple and incredibly dark: In a dystopian United States under totalitarian rule, 100 teenage boys are selected from a lottery to participate in a contest that only one can win. Whoever survives a multiday, hundreds-of-miles-long walk is rewarded with a hefty monetary prize. Walk until there’s only one left. Slow down and receive a warning. After three warnings, it’s a bullet in the head. The telecast of this walk is intended to inspire workers to increase their productivity.

Cooper Hoffman stars as Ray, one of the hearts of the film. The other is another walker named Pete (David Jonsson). The two young men become fast friends and then brothers on the walk, during which they endure all manner of physical, psychic, emotional, spiritual and mental degradation, along with the other boys whom they befriend, support and battle on the asphalt.

“The Long Walk” is directed by Francis Lawrence, who helmed most of “The Hunger Games” films and prequels, and is scripted by JT Mollner, who wrote and directed 2023’s pop noir “Strange Darling.” It’s a movie that tackles what it means for young people to volunteer for organized barbarism out of desperate need — as well as the consumption of their destruction as entertainment.

There are two audiences at play here, the one within the film itself, like those at a gladiator arena uncritically taking in death and bloodshed, and then there’s us, watching a movie that’s delivering a scathing critique about abuses of power. Lawrence hasn’t quite made the important distinction between these two kinds of audiences, though. We never see the broadcast or who is actually watching this walk, aside from a few cutaways to bored locals on the side of the road. But before the title even flashes on screen, we are granted the disturbingly detailed view of a bullet ripping through the face of a young boy. It signals to the participants on the walk that they’re not to toy with the warnings — and to us watching that this is a film that pulls no punches when it comes to graphic content (in many different ways).

But does it implicate us in this morbid voyeurism? What does it mean to see a child’s head exploded by heavy artillery in a fictional film, when that’s something that regularly happens in schools across America? Pete mentions to Ray that they’ll have to get used to it and Ray responds that’s what he’s worried about. It sounds like the conversation every time a mass shooting happens in America and while it’s a profound piece of dialogue, it’s just that.

Mollner and Lawrence keep the story locked on the boys, never elaborating on this desensitizing idea but continuing to show us the dehumanizing torture they endure. The emotional heft comes from what they learn about each other, especially Pete’s ability to look at life with genuine enthusiasm and beauty, a lesson he imparts to Ray, who has arrived with vengeance on his mind (against the cruel orchestrator of their pain, the Major, played by Mark Hamill) and a broken heart for his mother (Judy Greer). Ray has the critical thinking down, but his journey is an emotional one, learning to see the world through Pete’s eyes but never putting his natural leadership abilities to use in organizing against their oppression.

It’s a stunning showcase for the acting talents of the young ensemble, which also includes Ben Wang, Garrett Wareing, Tut Nyuot, Charlie Plummer and Joshua Odjick. Lawrence is sparing in his style, the image desaturated like a vintage photograph, locating this fable in an unspecified future. The message of “The Long Walk” is muddled, at once hopeful and despairing.

Katie Walsh is a Tribune News Service film critic.