THE RUNNING MAN was one of two 1987 actioners headlined by Arnold Schwarzenegger. Predator, a fierce sci-fi battle to the death against a splendidly yucky alien, was the year’s 7th most popular flick. This one, taking place during a lethal game show in a dystopian tomorrow, has a few commendable elements, but is decidedly second-rate next to Arn’s tussle with the space monster. It made enough money to register 30th place, though not enough to offset costs. The script by Steven E. de Souza was based on a novel Stephen King wrote, one of five he sneaked out under the pseudonym Richard Bachman.

2017, the US is a totalitarian state (okay, they jumped the starting gun a little), the government exercising control with ceaseless propaganda, censorship of media of news, the erasure of civil liberties and brutish labor camps (uh….not saying a thing). The masses are hooked on a TV show, The Running Man, which takes selected ‘criminals’ and launches them, unarmed, into an obstacle course, to be pursued by ‘stalkers’, audience-favorite killers, wildly outfitted and each with their own signature weaponry. Framed for a mass murder crime that he not only didn’t commit but tried to stop, ex-police captain and copter pilot ‘Ben Richards’ (Schwarzenegger) is next to run & die for the viewing pleasure of the blood-thirsting studio audience, home & office party bashes and bet-taking mobs in the streets.

“This is television, that’s all it is. It’s nothing to do with people, it’s to do with the ratings. For fifty years, we’ve told them what to eat, what to drink, what to wear… for Christ’s sake, Ben, don’t you understand? Americans love television. They wean their kids on it. Listen. They love game shows, they love wrestling, they love sports and violence. So what do we do? We give ’em what they want! We’re number one, Ben, that’s all that counts, believe me.”

The basic idea wasn’t new, dating back not just to works like The Most Dangerous Game but the good old-fashioned practice of gauntlet running done as punishment by European armies and navies and by eastern Native American tribes as community entertainment, and of course the grand-scale slaughter games showcased during the “glories of Rome”. A swell species, really. Long before The Hunger Games did it up to a fare thee well, this Reagan Era version took the futuristic contest cheering crowds from Rollerball and Logan’s Run, threw in a lot of automatic gunfire,a batch of guest wrestlers (tagged ‘Dynamo’, ‘Buzzsaw’, ‘Fireball’, ‘Subzero’ and ‘Captain Freedom’), and for salivation’s sake a squad of cheerleader chicks sexing up dance numbers choreographed by Paula Abdul—thrust, leap & pose affairs complete with big 80’s shag hairdos.

When anxious execs yanked director Andrew Davis after two weeks, actor-turned-director Paul Michael Glaser was hustled in to take over. Darkly serious in the book, the tone went gaudy comic book, as did the gauche look. Arnold mangles lame quips as bad guys are dispatched, the comments not helped by his inability to say them convincingly. As something out of the ordinary gene pool—Conan the Barbarian, The Terminator—he’s fine, but playing an ‘ordinary’ guy strains the cred muscle.

Working in favor is the fittingly goofy supporting lineup that includes feisty Maria Conchita Alonso, sweating Yaphet Kotto, joke-relishing Jesse Ventura (he’s fun) and Jim Brown with a futuristic haircut—plus Mick Fleetwood (39, looking 89) and Dweezil Zappa, 17, just for the presumed hell-of-it. The scenes of contestants being rocketed down a color-splashed metallic chute are fairly neat.

The single best thing in the 101 minute exercise is the stellar performance from Richard Dawson, pulling out the stops as ‘Damon Killian’, the mob-adored host of the game show, whipping the studio audience dopes into a frenzy and being a monumental jerk to backstage underlings. Dawson, 54, was ‘beloved’ (gag reflex) as the half cynical/half sweet host of TVs Family Feud, ten years and 2,341 smarm-exuding episodes of rhapsodic/repulsive glee & greed. Some intuit that in making The Running Man‘s phony so believable he was simply mirroring himself. Whether that is true or not (BFD either way), his acting is by far the best in the movie.

The US/Canada box office was $38,122,000, which would not have been enough to square the $27,000,000 production cost. Perhaps that was ironed out by international receipts?

With Erland van Lidth **), ‘Professor’ Toru Tanaka, Kurt Fuller and Sven-Ole Thorsen. Remade in 2025. Coming to us for real in ten…nine….eight…

* Stephen King didn’t like how it turned out. Pulling Andrew Davis off the director’s chair for Paul Michael Glaser was an amateur move. Not only did it displease the star, a look at their respective records makes a case for Davis. He’d just had a success with Code Of Silence, regarded as the best Chuck Norris vehicle (as far as they go), while other Glaser’s only feature credit had been the resounding dud Band Of The Hand. His subsequent The Cutting Edge, The Air Up There and Kazaam didn’t shake any rafters. Davis would go on to bang out a slew of wins including The Package, Under Siege, The Fugitive, A Perfect Murder and Holes.

** Sad note: king-sized supporting baddie Erland van Lidth  (immortal as ‘Terror’ from The Wanderers), one-time wrestler and professional opera singer, passed away seven weeks before the premiere, one day before his first wedding anniversary. He was 34.