The Long Walk proves yet again why Stephen King’s stories are perfect for the big screen

Carrie, published in 1974 and adapted by screenwriter Lawrence Cohen for Brian De Palma’s 1976 film, is generally cited as Stephen King’s first novel.

His actual first novel, The Long Walk, was written some seven years earlier, but published after Carrie in 1979 under the pseudonym Richard Bachman. The Long Walk is a gripping first novel. And now, all these years later, it has been adapted into a surprisingly compelling film.

Why surprising? Well, at first blush, the premise can seem a bit thin and schlocky: in a dystopian United States, 50 young men are chosen by lottery to compete in a cross-country marathon in which they must maintain a walking speed of three miles (4.8 kilometres) per hour to avoid being shot – with the last one standing winning a dream prize.

However, screenwriter Jeffrey Mollner and director Francis Lawrence (who also directed most of The Hunger Games films) deliver a deeply human story of friendship and loyalty in the face of overwhelming odds.

As with the better King adaptations, it’s the depth and power of the characters, and our empathy for them, that elevates this story. A talented young cast is led by Cooper Hoffman, David Jonsson and Charlie Plummer, along with gravel-voiced Mark Hamill as the villain.

The Long Walk is just one more example of how so many of King’s stories have, and continue to, be manna for the big screen.

Human stories at their heart

In the more gripping and engaging King adaptations such as Carrie (1976), The Shining (1980) and Misery (1990), the violence and horror are often what Alfred Hitchcock called a MacGuffin: a thing the story seems to be about when, in fact, it’s about something far more human.

The horror of what’s in Room 237 in The Shining, or what Annie Wilkes does with her sledgehammer in Misery are great scary moments, but they’re not what these stories are about.

As Mike Flanagan, director of Life of Chuck, Gerald’s Game (2017) and Doctor Sleep (2018) puts it:

You forget that It isn’t about the clown, it’s about the kids and their friendship […] The Stand isn’t about the virus or the demon taking over the world, it’s ordinary people who have to come together and stand against a force they cannot defeat.

To that end, the graphic violence in The Long Walk is the least interesting aspect of it. Yet King insisted the violence be kept in the screenplay.

When he wrote the story in the 1960s, it was a metaphor for the Vietnam War, and a generation sacrificed to conscription. As he recently told Deadline, the characters are “the same sort of kids that are pulled into the war machine”.

In 2025, however, the screenplay is about bread and circuses – and false hope for an economically and socially disenfranchised society dominated by authoritarian powers.

It’s also reminiscent of another endurance-based film, Sydney Pollack’s classic They Shoot Horses Don’t They? (1969), in which poor young people living in Depression-era America compete in a dance marathon for a cash prize.

We feel for the villains, too

The Long Walk is the latest of several King adaptations to hit screens this year.

We’ve seen Osgood Perkins’ disappointing horror-comedy The Monkey, Jack Bender and Benjamin Cavell’s plodding Stan series The Institute and, more recently, The Life of Chuck, Mike Flanagan’s glorious celebration of life, joy, grief, death and the unreliability of memory. Coming up we’ve got Welcome to Derry, from It (2017) director Andrés Muschietti, and Edgar Wright’s remake of The Running Man.

It’s remarkable the 77-year-old author of almost 70 books is still so prolifically adapted for the screen. With more than 50 feature films and dozens of TV series associated with his name, King is one of the most adapted authors of all time. Why is that?

His enormous onscreen success comes down to more than just his big name as a writer. It also comes down to his stories, which are grounded in humanity and told through relatable, empathetic characters.

It’s not enough to scare an audience. You also need to touch their hearts. They want to be moved – to laugh, cry and feel. Not just scream.

Film writer Jake Coyle argues the best King adaptations come from the author’s more warm-hearted tales. But I would say there is also much joy and heartbreak to be found in his not-so-warm adaptations, such as Pet Sematary (1989) and Christine (1983).

Moreover, King’s antagonists – even the super-scary ones – are usually as well-crafted, compelling and psychologically complex as his protagonists.

Whether its Annie Wilkes in Misery, Jack Torrance in The Shining, or now Gary Barkovitch in The Long Walk, King invites us to understand what drives these complex and layered characters – even as we’re reviled by their actions. They do monstrous things, but they’re more than just monsters.

As Frank Darabont, director of The Shawshank Redemption (1994) and The Green Mile (1999), puts it:

There’s a very haunting and melancholy quality to [The Green Mile] […] the people in it are […] trying very much to do the best they know how […] they’re wrestling with issues of compassion and morality, all the things I love to see in a story.

I’m with Frank. I look for these things in a story too. They’re there in The Long Walk, in The Life of Chuck, and in so many others King adaptations. And it’s a good bet they’ll be there on our screens for a long time to come.