Rating summary

Movie		3.0
Video		4.0
Audio		4.0
Extras		3.0
Overall		3.0

The Running Man Blu-ray Movie Review

Where's Richard Dawson when you really need him?

Reviewed by Jeffrey Kauffman May 31, 2019

Mention a film called The Running Man, and my hunch is many, maybe even most, folks are going to almost automatically think of 1987’s The Running Man, a film which kind of hilariously takes place in 2019, making it perhaps more “relevant” than it was back in the eighties. But almost a quarter century before the Arnold Schwarzenegger opus hit cineplexes, there was another film with this title, one that has kind of curiously fallen by the wayside of many cineastes’ memories, something that’s all the more strange given its fairly starry cast and the fact that it was directed by one of the true legends of the British film industry, Sir Carol Reed. While arguably not quite at the level of a, say, David Lean, Reed’s filmography is nevertheless on the iconic side, and includes such well regarded films as Night Train to Munich, Odd Man Out, The Fallen Idol , The Third Man, Our Man in Havana and Oliver!, the last of which won Reed the Academy Award for Best Director. Oliver! may indeed by a kind of outlier in Reed’s oeuvre , given Reed’s penchant for thrillers featuring morally duplicitous characters, and The Running Man, while probably not at the apex of Reed’s output, plies some of the same basic fraught territory that some of Reed’s best known (non musical) dramas did. The film came out in late 1963, and according to this snippet from a book exploring supposed conspiracy theories behind the Kennedy assassination, was briefly in the limelight since investigators evidently mistook an ad campaign for the movie in some Dallas newspapers for coded messages being sent to one Lee Harvey Oswald. That little nugget may in fact be more intrinsically fascinating than some of the shenanigans actually on screen which involve a, well, duplicitous guy with a spinning moral compass named Rex Black (Laurence Harvey) who fakes his own death in order to make off with a considerable insurance settlement. Rex’s seemingly demure wife Stella (Lee Remick) is in on the ruse, but when a nosy insurance agent named Stephen Maddox (Alan Bates) starts poking around the case, the Blacks’ plans for a wealthy “retirement” seem threatened.

It’s perhaps telling that one of the interview subjects in the newly done featurette included on this disc as a supplement kind of unashamedly mentions that the source novel for this film didn’t strike him as being overly exciting, but that he felt that in the hands of a director of Carol Reed’s stature, the result would at least be acceptable. But there is a kind of rote and ultimately silly aspect to The Running Man, with a “McGuffin” that really doesn’t provide much impact by the time the film comes to its somewhat ambivalent close. There are also a few structural oddities, including a rather long “flashback” sequence that shows up in the guise of a dream Stella has after being given a sleeping pill by a doctor after her husband’s supposed funeral.

That conceit provides a bit of insight into Rex’s “reason” (no B-movie star name pun intended) for wanting to defraud an insurance company. It turns out that he had had a “real” accident some time previously, but unfortunately had neglected to pay his monthly premium, and so his claim was denied. It’s all slightly preposterous (including what Rex was transporting when he crashed), and tends to give the film a slightly unreal ambience that doesn’t really meld with any ostensible tension.

The bottom line is that once Rex and Stella supposedly “escape” to Malaga, who should show up there but Stephen, ostensibly just on a vacation. Rex has assumed a new identity (and a rather ridiculous looking blond hairdo), and Stella is playing the grieving widow bit even with her very much alive husband by her side, with the two Blacks trying to figure out if Stephen’s arrival is a coincidence or the sign of something more sinister (for their motives, anyway). It’s an interesting premise, but the film rather curiously lacks much suspense. Once Rex absconds with a plane in the film’s climax, you can virtually feel the karmic lessons waiting to pour out of screenwriter John Mortimer’s pen. Performances are very good here, and some of the location photography is fairly stunning, but this may be best appreciated as a bit of a curio in Reed’s output, rather than some kind of unappreciated classic.

The Running Man Blu-ray Movie, Video Quality 

The Running Man is presented on Blu-ray courtesy of Arrow Academy with an AVC encoded 1080p transfer in 2.40:1. Arrow's insert booklet provides only the following fairly generic verbiage on the transfer:

The Running Man is presented in its original aspect ratio of 2.35:1 [sic] with mono sound. The HD master, transferred from the restored original film elements, was provided by Sony Pictures.

Sony/Columbia has one of the more enviable reputations in curating their catalog for the digital and high definition ages, but the source element (I'm assuming an IP) has some recurrent damage in the form of numerous white flecks and specks which regularly dot the image. There are also noticeable variations in color temperature and densities. Those issues aside, this is often a rather sumptuous looking transfer, with a mostly healthy looking palette (flesh tones can occasionally look a bit on the brown side), and with some appealing detail levels throughout. The location photography boasts some nicely scenic locations which frequently look great, with vivid blue skies and lush green foliage. (Reed's Third Man cinematographer Robert Krasker was on hand for this film, and received a BAFTA nomination for his work.) The film does have quite a few opticals, including some less than believable effects work (most surrounding Rex's piloting adventures). Grain can understandably spike in some of these moments, but resolves naturally. The film also boasts a rather cool credits sequence designed by the venerable Maurice Binder.

The Running Man Blu-ray Movie, Audio Quality 

The Running Man features a serviceable LPCM Mono track which capably supports the film's dialogue and effects, along with the score by William Alwyn. The track is just slightly boxy sounding at times, especially with regard to some of the location ambient environmental sounds, but there's no outright damage or distortion of any kind to report.

The Running Man Blu-ray Movie, Special Features and Extras 

• Audio Commentary by Peter William Evans


• Isolated Music and Effects Track is presented in LPCM mono.


• On the Trail of The Running Man (1080p; 24:41) is a very interesting newly done aggregation of interviews with people who worked on the film and/or with Carol Reed, including Angela Allen, Kits Browning, Maurice Landsberger and Tony Rimmington.


• Lee Remick at the National Film Theater is a 1970 audio interview done in London as part of the John Player Lecture Series, which is presented here as a kind of "alternate audio track" accompanying the film (the film's actual soundtrack kicks in when the interview ends). This comes with a warning about audio fidelity, and while it is a bit lackluster, it's not horrible, especially if you up your volume a bit.


• Image Gallery (1080p; 13:40)

As usual, Arrow has also supplied a nicely appointed insert booklet, in this case containing some particularly interesting essays by Barry Forshaw, Henry Blyth, and camera operator John Harris, who nearly pulled a "Rex" himself in a horrifying plane crash during the shoot.

The Running Man Blu-ray Movie, Overall Score and Recommendation 

An attractive cast, exotic locations and a promising basic setup aren't quite enough to get this Running Man to its finish line. Still, there are moments here that are quite well done, and while not the outright classic that some of Carol Reed's other films are, this is a completely professional and often quite ravishing looking film, one which should appeal to fans of its star trio. Technical merits are generally solid and the supplementary package very interesting, for those considering a purchase.