The Long Walk

The first surprise comes in the opening moments, as we read a letter that confirms Ray Garraty (Cooper Hoffman) has been selected via lottery to participate in the annual Long Walk. It reveals that his submission was voluntary, which is immediately confirmed as he's driven to the drop off by his mother (Judy Greer) hysterically pleading for him to back out. If you've managed to go into the film blind, you won't yet understand why she's so distraught, and why his desire to participate is so noteworthy; we've been told the winner of the contest will receive fame and fortune, and soon learn they'll be granted one wish upon completion. But it's as if he's going off to war, seeing but one path to secure his family's economic future in a time of widespread poverty. Stephen King wrote the source novel in the late 60s and published it a decade later, making clear how explicitly the Vietnam War and Draft inspired its conceit. But both the novel and JT Mollner's screenplay take the concept further, setting it in a (near) future dystopia in which the United States has devolved into a military dictatorship, including the banning of any art deemed "subversive", following an alluded to but unspecified conflict nineteen years ago. Neither could have known just how prescient such a premise would be when the film finally released.

With the exception of the soldiers who escort/guard the boys (and they are all boys; most look to be about 18), and repeated but inconsistent appearances from head of secret police The Major (Mark Hamill), the focus is not on the world. It's important table setting, as it helps to explain how such an event could not only occur but be widely televised. Granted, the perpetually popular reality television landscape in which we exist already thrives on watching our fellow human beings suffer and subject themselves to dehumanization and degradation for far less potential reward. Is it really that much of a stretch to extend it to a competition for who can walk the furthest without dropping below 3 MPH for anything? And I mean anything; not to sleep, not to eat, not to shit.

A lot of the movie's tension comes from playing that out to its logical end in creative and natural ways. The boys get three warnings before "disqualification", ten seconds after each to get back up to speed, and can shed one by not stopping for an hour. I've never been so on edge watching someone drop a deuce, nor so angry to watch a bully goad another, nor so anxious to watch a boy apologize profusely to his mother. Small moments become big problems, as dropping your food rations can mean going hungry if you don't have a spare warning to spend on the retrieval. The timing of those warnings is absolutely crucial. Near the end of the first day, just after Ray has exhausted his warnings, he looks up to see a long, steep hill that it's said will cull half the crowd. All the while, the camera unceasingly moves forward, only jumping back through cuts, but more often pivoting to look behind the characters, emphasizing the lack of time they're given to truly contemplate all that's going on.

That terror is revealed early on, but comes slowly and in the kind of scene that will leave you hollowed out, with the vast majority of the movie yet to come. The walk is less than a day old when Curley (Roman Griffin Davis) suffers a charlie horse. Ray does all he can to help him keep pace, and after a tense few moments in which it seems to be working, Curley yells in pain and collapses. His warnings run out as he's commanded to get up at gun point and he starts crying hysterically, and then is summarily executed on the spot. The Long Walk takes its status as an elimination event literally, raising the stakes each time anybody shows signs of slowing down, protagonist or not.

Thus, the comradery that immediately forms between the boys makes perfect sense. While they may have gotten into this to win, which inherently means the death of their opponents, the competition has not stripped them (well, most of them) of their humanity. The intense bonds that form are genuine although (because?) they're short-lived. They share personal anecdotes, hopes and dreams, motivations, and philosophies. The conversation never stops, and most of the time, it's quite jovial and free flowing. As such, despite the bleak backdrop, the washed out photography that robs the viewer of any visual beauty despite the vast stretches of land, and the looming demise of all but one of the walkers, the actual experience of watching is most often warm and comfortable and fun. Hell, there's a point when a few of the boys start tossing around a baseball! Sure, there are frequent interruptions for "Warning!" called out over a megaphone, and numerous anxious set pieces as the boys rush to save themselves and each other, not always succeeding. There's rage boiling under the surface at all times, and few frames completely omit the armed forces that flank them on all sides. But the charisma and rapport between them makes it tolerable while also contrasting the regime's violence.

The standout performance by a country mile is David Jonsson as Pete McVries, who quickly becomes Ray's closest friend, and ends up the de facto leader of their little posse, despite Ray being the audience's POV. He perfectly nails a person remaining relentlessly upbeat because he's learned that's the best way to make it through this world, not due to any sort of naivete. When called upon to confront the reality of the situation, he does so with unshakable confidence, his face easily sliding into a slab of concrete that is at once firm and commanding of respect. He retains a spring in his step, even as they blow past one hundred, one hundred and fifty, two hundred miles. He freely talks about how much he loves these guys, and at one points tells Ray with a smile on his face that when he's done walking, he'll just...sit down, and let them do what they have to do. For every single second he's on screen, your eyes are drawn to Jonsson, and not just because of the deep scar on Pete's face. He exudes magnetism and a grounded quality that makes him the most interesting and endearing and most fully formed person on screen, reaching beyond the writing to imbue Pete with an inner life that you cannot help but sense, despite limited opportunities to expound upon it.

Not that anyone around him is slacking. Hoffman succeeds at capturing Ray's energy and optimism, which gets worn down faster than you'd expect, rubbing him raw until he looks pallid and slowly oscillates between determined and despairing. Ben Wang somehow makes Hank Olson's endless quoting of the Walk's rules endearing and familiar. Garrett Wareing plays Stebbins like a cold, calculating machine, soberly reminding all of them of their inevitable fates and low likelihood of survival. Joshua Odjick reminds you that Parker is always there through his eternal scowl, his long stretches of silence hiding deep-seeded anger. Meanwhile, Charlie Plummer plays Gary Barkovitch as a cackling villain openly looking forward to outlasting his competition, until his bullying leads to another boy's death, overwhelming him with guilt and resulting in the group ostracizing him and christening him with the apt if uncreative nickname "Killer".

The ending is changed from the novel's in ways that you can see coming far in advance, a poignant if somewhat confused statement about the nature of revolution that's sort of satisfying while not following it to any sort of conclusion. But that's okay, because it's not the point. This is an intense character piece full of beautiful moments between people persevering under the thumb of fascism, of rages against the system small and large, and of the ways we all have the capacity to lift each other up even as society instructs us to fight. It's not the least bit subtle, yet it packs such an emotional punch as you watch this assortment of boys struggle against their ordeal that you find yourself feeling as they feel, alternately distraught and pissed off and in utter disbelief. It continues the trend of this year's top horror films being as emotional as they are scary, striking fear deep into your soul after softening it up by provoking your empathy. A horror movie that makes you cry is a wonderful thing, and I look forward to such movies dominating the top of my year end ranking.