Racing to find the right running-based Z-grade thriller for you

If you're seeking out a bad time for perverse fun, you at least want the right bad time.

Racing to find the right running-based Z-grade thriller for you

There’s a phenomenon called “twin films” where, due to factors ranging from cynical plagiarism to changes in copyright to spikes in industry interest, two movies are released in the same year with similar premises. It’s the collision between Deep Impact and Armageddon, Antz and A Bug’s Life, Troy and Alexander, The Prestige and The Illusionist, La Llorona and The Curse Of La Llorona, or Olympus Has Fallen and White House Down, which were all released within months of their partner. More rarely though, are situations like the one facing filmgoers this month, where The Runner, a terrible Gal Gadot jogging thriller, and Runner, a so-so Alan Ritchson organ-delivery actioner, are coming out just nine days apart.

That’s not even mentioning the Spanish movie Runner from May of this year—which Wikipedia includes as a “see also” example on The Runner seemingly just to be more confusing—or Runner Runner, the 2013 movie that one-upped all of this year’s running-based releases with its doubled title. And let’s just not even bring up the Road Runner, who torments Wile E. Coyote in Coyote Vs. Acme.

What so often shakes out from these kinds of cinematic pairings is a clear victory. One movie clears its twin, whether by a nose or by fully lapping them. The other is left in the dust, remembered mostly as an afterthought associated with their more popular doppelganger. The strange part of the near-simultaneous release of Runner and The Runner is that neither film is especially good; it’s as if they’re two mockbusters in search of an actual hit movie to mimic. This is bound to confuse prospective audiences about which bad movie they’re actually seeing, and whether they should log whatever they end up watching on Letterboxd or Strava. If you’re seeking out a bad time for perverse fun, you at least want the right bad time.

Beyond the titles of these new releases, differentiated only by a load-bearing article, and the marketing material—which sees both sets of roughed-up actors looking slightly off-camera—there are some key factors to look for if you’re wondering if you’re about to get some good-bad steps in with The Runner or just Runner (which drops the “the,” because it’s cleaner):

Look to the stars

If you prefer your action movies led by big ol’ chunks of man (but not The Running Man), with a side of comic relief, you’ll want to stick with Runner, where Reacher star Alan Ritchson drags Owen Wilson along a crime-comedy plot involving the transportation of a transplant-ready liver. If you instead are in the vast minority who actually intends to watch a Gal Gadot star vehicle, The Runner is for you. That film sees her navigate an Eagle Eye-like situation where she must stay on the phone with a villain blackmailing her into galloping off this way and that.

 

Only one runs its way into theaters

Though Runner is being released by Angel Studios, the semi-crowdfunded company whose movies never quite feel real, it’s actually coming to big screens around the country, unlike The Runner, which both feels unreal and is being released accordingly, going directly to Prime Video.

 

One is much worse than the other, which might be preferable

Sometimes a very bad movie is more fun to watch than a movie that’s simply mediocre, like Prime Video’s runaway disaster from last year, War Of The Worlds. Runner, with its half-characters, filler jokes, and passable stunts, might make you think “Hey, director Scott Waugh can do more than just kill off the Expendables franchise! Not much more, mind you, but more.” The Runner, on the other hand, is a true bomb, full of weird asides and odd-looking moments where Gal Gadot tramples through a crowd of people like an escaped zoo animal. A busker plays “Kumbaya” and there’s an elaborate, dim-witted twist ending. If you’re only going on a single cinematic fun-run this September, there’s a clear answer, as long as you’ve got a hint of bad-movie sicko in you.

 
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