Stephen King adaptations have long been a staple of Hollywood, but this week, a new film has set a record that’s sure to get fans and critics buzzing. The Long Walk, a chilling dystopian story penned by King under the pseudonym Richard Bachman, has officially become the highest rated King adaptation ever, debuting in theaters the weekend of September 12, 2025. According to Rotten Tomatoes, the film holds a 94% Fresh rating based on 120 reviews as of September 11, 2025—a feat that places it above even beloved classics like Carrie, The Shining, Stand By Me, and The Shawshank Redemption (Collider).
The film’s success is the product of a remarkable collaboration between director Francis Lawrence and screenwriter JT Mollner. Lawrence, who’s no stranger to dystopian fiction after helming the last four Hunger Games movies, teams up with Mollner, known for last year’s acclaimed Strange Darling, to bring King’s early, harrowing vision to the big screen. The result, as Collider’s review puts it, is “one of the best and most heartbreaking horror films.”
For those unfamiliar with the source material, The Long Walk began as a nearly 400-page novel King started when he was a college student in the late 1960s and published in 1979. The story is set in a dystopian Maine, where 100 teenage boys are forced to walk at a relentless pace of four miles per hour, flanked by soldiers in Army vehicles. If a contestant slows down, he receives a warning; after three, he’s executed on the spot. The last boy standing wins a prize of anything he desires. The premise is simple, but the execution—both in the novel and now on screen—is excruciatingly tense.
King’s novel, published under the Bachman name as a test of his own commercial power, has had a quiet but powerful influence on the dystopian genre. Japanese author Koushun Takami cited The Long Walk as an inspiration for his 1996 novel Battle Royale, and Suzanne Collins’ blockbuster Hunger Games series followed in 2008. As The Atlantic notes, “Stephen King was first.” The film adaptation, therefore, arrives not just as a new King movie, but as a pivotal moment in the history of dystopian fiction on screen.
What sets Lawrence’s adaptation apart is its stark, unadorned focus. Unlike the Hunger Games films, with their flamboyant costumes and elaborate set pieces, The Long Walk takes place almost entirely on the road. Viewers watch a group of young men, played by Cooper Hoffman (as Ray Garraty), Garrett Wareing (as Stebbins), Ben Wang (as Olson), and David Jonsson (as Peter McVries), as they trudge more than 300 miles over several days. The film’s pace is slightly slower than the book’s—three miles per hour instead of four—a decision that makes the ordeal even more believable, given the marathon nature of the contest (The Atlantic).
The cast brings a raw authenticity to their roles. Hoffman’s Garraty, a Maine hometown hero, is described as moving “like a wall, always looking as if he’s on the verge of tumbling over.” Wareing’s Stebbins, aloof and athletic, and Wang’s Olson, whose injuries make every step a struggle, round out a group whose camaraderie and suffering are palpable. But it’s Jonsson’s McVries who steals the show, offering both toughness and tenderness as he rallies the boys and forms a tight-knit group they call the Musketeers.
The film doesn’t shy away from the brutality of its premise. Graphic violence is depicted onscreen, earning the film a definitive R rating. As The Atlantic reports, “Lawrence chooses, instead, to show some deaths and injuries in their complete goriness.” One scene even features a boy relieving himself on the pavement, a jarring reminder of the physical toll the walk exacts. Yet, as harrowing as the violence is, it’s balanced by moments of friendship and hope—qualities largely absent from the novel’s more internal, often bleak monologues.
Lawrence and Mollner have also made subtle but significant changes to the source material. In the book, the relationship between Garraty and McVries is ambiguous and fraught; in the film, their alliance is warmer, their support for the other boys more pronounced. This shift injects the story with a sense of humanity and resilience, making the film’s emotional impact even stronger.
The world of The Long Walk is chillingly underexplained. Both the novel and the film offer little information about how society descended into such cruelty. In the movie, the ritual is overseen by the Major, played by Mark Hamill, who coldly explains that the walk “results in a boost in productivity every year, which is why they keep on doing it.” The roads are eerily empty, and unlike the novel—where crowds cheer—the film’s society keeps the spectacle hidden, with only an occasional passerby witnessing the grim parade.
Lionsgate, the film’s production company, even leaned into the story’s physical demands for its premiere: at an early screening, attendees were required to walk on treadmills at three miles per hour to remain in the theater, mirroring the film’s relentless pace. It’s a clever marketing stunt, but also a testament to the story’s immersive power (The Atlantic).
This year marks what some are calling “Bachman Fall,” with The Long Walk arriving alongside Edgar Wright’s adaptation of The Running Man, another Bachman novel, starring Glen Powell. It’s a rare treat for fans of King’s alter ego, whose works have often been overshadowed by the author’s more famous titles. Interestingly, The Long Walk now shares the top Rotten Tomatoes spot with Carrie, though the latter has far fewer reviews. Other classics, like The Shining (84% at 110 reviews) and Mike Flanagan’s sequel Doctor Sleep (79%), trail behind in critical acclaim (Collider).
The adaptation’s success is all the more impressive given the challenges of translating King’s early, sometimes unwieldy prose to film. The novel is filled with internal monologues, shifting motivations, and a “surfeit even of death,” as Garraty himself notes. Lawrence and Mollner have distilled this into a lean, focused narrative about endurance, friendship, and the human fight against a “monotonous evil”—a phrase that echoes the book’s epigraph from Thomas Carlyle about the universe as a “dead, immeasurable Steam-engine.”
With The Long Walk, Lawrence and Mollner have not only honored King’s original vision but elevated it, delivering what may be the most powerful King adaptation to date. For longtime fans and newcomers alike, this film offers a haunting, unforgettable journey through the darkest corners of human endurance and hope.
