The Long Walk

I've been meaning to watch The Long Walk for a long time, but if I'm honest, I'd been avoiding it. Today, I finally sat down and watched it, and I've had such a visceral reaction that I'm writing this immediately afterwards, partly because I need to process what I've just seen.

The strange thing about it is that it tells you exactly how it's going to end. From the opening minutes, we're told that they will “walk until there’s only one left.” There are no secrets here, no twists about the rules. Yet somehow, all the way through, like Pete, I kept believing that something would change, that the “Major would go April Fools! And they’d all go home.” That hope, despite all the evidence to the contrary, makes the film so devastating. 

At the beginning, we meet Ray Garraty and his mother. We know almost nothing about them, yet the film quickly establishes their relationship without feeling rushed or forced. There’s a moment at the checkpoint when Ray's ID is taken and never returned. It feels small, like it's a mistake, but it sets the tone immediately. The movie is full of these quiet moments that pack a punch and also gives you the time to pause in them.

Ray is one of the last to arrive, meaning we meet the rest of the boys through him. What surprised me was how light everything feels at first. The sun is shining, the boys joke with each other, and for a brief moment, it almost feels like any other coming-of-age story. There’s an almost carefree quality to their conversations, which makes what follows feel even more unsettling.

The dialogue throughout the film is exceptional. In fact, I found myself looking it up afterwards to see if much of it had been improvised. It genuinely sounds like a group of teenage boys meeting each other for the first time. The conversations flow naturally, the jokes land effortlessly, and you find yourself laughing along with them. There’s even that awkward moment when someone is trying to join in on the joke and it doesn’t land. Moments like “What the fuck is a meemaw?” feel completely authentic.

The film is equally smart in how it explains its world. The rules aren't dumped on the audience through clumsy exposition; they're revealed through conversations. At some point at the start, when one character starts explaining the rules, Pete cuts him off with, “Shut up, Olsen. We all read the rulebook.” It's a small touch, but it makes the world feel lived in.

As the walk begins, I sort of forgot the film's central premise. We know these boys are going to die. The rules remain the rules, and the film tells us repeatedly that only one can remain. Yet, as I mentioned, I spent most of the runtime expecting something to intervene. A phone call from someone higher up. A change in the rules. Some last-minute act of mercy. A Hunger Games berry situation. Anything!

But nothing comes, instead, the first death is graphic, and it sobers you up. From here, you have these feelings of tension and anxiety while simultaneously experiencing this incredible sense of brotherhood and hope. It's insane. There’s a feeling of wanting to turn away and not being able to.

The Long Walk refuses to provide an escape route, either for the characters or the audience. Every time you think you've adjusted to the horror, the film introduces another reality of the walk. First comes the night. You know night is going to arrive. Of course it is. Yet when it happens there's still a moment of shock. Oh yeah, they're going to have to keep walking through the dark. Then someone gets sick. Oh yeah, what happens when they need the toilet? Then comes the rain. Oh yeah, they're going to have to walk through that too. Again, it's obvious in hindsight, yet another reminder that this ordeal simply doesn't stop. The film constantly forces you to confront practical questions that most stories would ignore. It makes you think about what this walk would actually be like, not just as an idea, but as a physical and increasingly brutal reality.

And then there’s the system itself. The cruelty of the soldiers cannot be overlooked. They patrol alongside the walkers, issuing warnings with mechanical indifference. One of the film's most disturbing moments comes when a contestant is run over and loses both his legs. Even then, procedure takes priority over mercy. The warnings continue while he lies there screaming. It is a chilling demonstration of a system that values rules more than human life. This movie will make you reconsider everything about the system we are in. It is obsessed with the dehumanising power of systems. You really feel it: that hopelessness, that feeling of being trapped in the spectacle, forced to keep moving forward in the hope that maybe you will be one of the few to make it out.

For two hours, The Long Walk traps you on that road with those boys. The most accurate review I read was that it was a “10/10 movie that I will never watch again.” It is difficult, funny, hopeful and an amazing watch. I am hoping to read the book soon, which I’ve heard is just as good. It is well worth a watch, and I'm sure that after some time has passed, I will watch it again. From the acting, to the cinematography, to the writing, this movie has it all. 
The long walk sticks with you long after the credits role.