Film adaptation of Stephen King novel is devastatingly bleak, yet touchingly heartfelt

It’s not the first gunshot you hear that sets the tone for “The Long Walk,” adapted from Stephen King’s 1979 novel of the same name. It’s the second — piercing flesh and bone with brutal efficiency — that tears through your psyche as this dystopian nightmare plays out. 

King’s works aren’t known for being cheerful endeavors. But “The Long Walk” — the first novel he wrote (under the pseudonym Richard Bachman) — is on a whole other level, a gaping maw of despair both hypnotic and ruinous. In an America under totalitarian control, 100 teenage boys are chosen to partake in the Long Walk, which is televised nationwide. The rules are simple: Don’t stop walking below a certain speed for too long; if you do, you die right there on the road. There’s no finish line; the walk only ends when there’s one survivor left. His prize: whatever he wants. (All of this, of course, is to help bump up the country’s GDP.)

The film version — the screenplay is by JT Mollner (“Strange Darling”) — is no less bleak, playing out like a darker, gorier and male-led version of “The Hunger Games.” Which feels apropos, given that it’s directed by Francis Lawrence, who helmed all the “Hunger Games” films except the first. (That both “Hunger Games” and “The Long Walk” contend with the rot of extreme capitalism is an essay unto itself.) 

Changes from the novel abound, but its core — about two strangers who become so much more than that during this pitiless death march — remains the same. The first is logical, cynical Ray Garraty; the second is delightfully cheery Pete McVries (excellently played by Cooper Hoffman and David Jonsson, respectively). Ray castigates the false choice underpinning the Long Walk — these boys never had a choice at all — and wants to burn it all down, especially its leader, The Major (Mark Hamill, dastardly in his bloviating portrayal). But it’s Pete who’s the true emotional center, with his clear-eyed yet boundless enthusiasm that life can be more than just the endless miles ahead of them. The camaraderie between the pair is mesmerizing, a beatific beacon of humanity in a world clearly bereft of it. (Though the film isn’t as direct as the book, the queer undertones are still here.)

And you’ll need that humanizing anchor because “The Long Walk” is despairing by intent. It’s graphically violent and ruthlessly bitter, leaving you with a sinking feeling that you know how this will all play out. The cinematography is stark (and strangely bright), with a score that slowly tilts toward dread the longer the march goes on. What redemptive hope there is here resides solely within the boys who are putting one foot in front of the other, who try desperately to catch one another when they stumble. It’s not much, but it feels honest in this world — everyone needs a friend, even if just for a few days. 

“I keep hoping that part gets easier,” Pete says not long after another bullet ends another life. It never does — it’s the point, really — but the journey is worth the despair, even if you already know it’s going to lead straight to the gates of hell.

Four “How are they keeping track of their walking speed?” stars out of five.

Photo caption: Cooper Hoffman as Garraty, left, and David Jonsson as McVries in “The Long Walk.” (Murray Close / Lionsgate)