The Long Walk: A Call to Action

by Jasmine Edwards

The Long Walk (2025) was released at the perfect time. Amid polarizing conversations about political violence, social struggles, and questionable government agendas during wartime, director Francis Lawrence dropped a raw and unflinching criticism of what it means to represent the United States—and what it takes to alter the status quo.

Adapted from Stephen King’s first novel, The Long Walk features a deceptively simple pitch: 50 young men from across America enlist in a walking contest with a single winner. Side note: I know what you’re thinking. Where are the women? Stephen King is known for his poor treatment and often complete lack of female characters. Yet The Long Walk seems to me a striking commentary on the mandatory draft—a US military enlistment procedure that still to this day excludes women. It makes sense, then, for a total absence of any women or girls besides some spectators or one contestant’s mother.

Additionally, The Long Walk emphasizes America’s obsession with a male provider. The man of the house, the protector, the hunter. After all, this post-war dystopia is in a state of economic crisis. And what is the government’s solution? A livestreamed broadcast of this test of extreme physical endurance and mental fortitude. In a society that likely commodifies women, men are naturally the only participants allowed. Plus, the prize is cash—the American dream! If you lift yourself up and stop being lazy, untold riches await! So, put on your boots and begin a journey with no finish line, only a socially ingrained sense of purpose and alleged glory that spurs you onward.

Is it “purpose” that drives these boys, however, or the armed guards? Overseeing all the numbered contestants is a military major who sleeps, eats, and showers while the boys trudge toward an undefined goal. Picture the gym teacher who screamed at you to do push-ups from their comfortable chair. Now amplify that to the allegory that it is. America’s youth are fighting to survive on nothing while the wealthy elite and those in power watch from the sidelines. And if you dare step out of line—”that’s your ticket,” as the major would say.

The Long Walk, then, magnifies each opinion about our current socio-political climate. I’m telling you that it magnifies until it sears—like a round glass held in the sunshine above the ants that crawl on concrete. Consider each young man a symbol of sorts. Pick any single one and he has a standout voice and personality that feels real and grounded. He’s your brother, your friend, your classmate.

While four particular men take center stage, the other characters each undeniably impact the audience. You will not forget their faces after this. They come from wildly different backgrounds which incite conflict at the beginning. But as this grueling journey progresses, they get closer and confide in each other. We cherish and mourn them the exact same way they love and grieve one another, no matter how much or little screentime they have.

This, of course, is accomplished by perfect pacing (no pun intended) as well as stunning actors with off-the-charts chemistry. I’m thinking specifically of Cooper Hoffman (Ray Garraty #47) and David Jonsson (Peter McVries #23). I don’t think there can be a review of this film anywhere that doesn’t mention this powerhouse duo. From the start, their dynamic sets the tone. Then, those two and the rest of the incredible cast carry this film through its epic handling of the comedy and tragedy inherent in the horror genre.

And as Ray and Pete’s ideals, ideologies, plans, and capabilities shift, so do our emotions. I will be the first to admit that I cried extremely early on just because of a simple interaction between these two. They gave me such hope in humanity and friendship, falling into step beside each other like they’d been companions their entire lives. In a way, because their lives and camaraderie exist to us exclusively within the confines of this story, they kind of were.

Ultimately, that specific hope for a better or kinder future is the film’s final takeaway. The Long Walk tells us that things have to change. That we have to commit to changing them. I have personally never seen a modern movie with such a complete anti-war stance. I just witnessed heartbreaking brutalities, senseless deaths, needless waste, and unfathomable suffering. The themes of desperate defiance and shared trauma resonated in every shot. Complete with a brilliant use of fireworks and “The Star-Spangled Banner,” the cameras put a spotlight on the root of that evil: the United States Army, its insidious recruitment tactics, and the fascist regime which encourages it.

But don’t just take it from me. Go see it for yourself. I’ll be shocked if you don’t come away with the same heady blend of disgust, despair, and utter determination.