Note: The Long Walk is a gruesome R-rated movie, and I wouldn’t recommend watching it simply for entertainment purposes. I do think it’s a well-done, thought-provoking allegory and can be a powerful movie for those who can handle it and know how to look away when it’s too much. So, as with all things in life, use some discretion if you decide to engage this movie, as it is quite violent and vulgar.
I knew very little about The Long Walk when I sat down in the theater, but I was so impressed by its storytelling that I saw it twice in one day. I felt that Stephen King’s allegory had something important to say about society and politics and that he embedded those messages very clearly within his disturbing tale. (It’s all spoilers from here on out, folks, so read at your own risk.)
The general plot goes like this: In an attempt to motivate the American workforce, an annual competition is held for young men to prove that their work ethic is the best. Out of those who apply for the competition (which is every young man in the country, because there’s a sociological expectation that they will), fifty contestants are chosen to represent each state. Once the event begins, they must continue walking at a speed of three miles per hour until only one contestant remains. If they go slower than that, they are submitted to a system of warnings. When the warnings run out, they are immediately and mercilessly killed. There is no break—the walk continues until only one person is left. The winner then receives one wish granted and enough money to live out their days without difficulty.
Through incredible acting, an interesting cast of characters, and philosophical dialogue, all broken up by deeply emotional and terrifying moments, viewers are sucked into a movie that consists mostly of people walking and talking. As the allegory takes shape, you can’t help but see the dark side of the American work ethic.
- Did you break a bone? Fired.
- Did you have a mental breakdown? Fired.
- Did you get sick? Fired.
- Did you lose a loved one? Fired.
- Did you work too slowly? Fired.
- Did you take a break? Fired.
- Did you not meet unrealistic standards? Fired.
- Did you get too many warnings? Fired.
- Did you think the hours were unreasonable? Fired.
- Did you exhaust all your warnings? Fired.
- Are you tired? Fired.
- Was that your best work? Fired.
American society often promotes the notion that our value as human beings is found in our work ethic, rather than in our personhood. This lie creates a monstrous machine where many work however they can to make ends meet, but when something goes wrong in life, they are simply discarded. Those who feel like they must “keep up or die trying” will quickly catch onto what Stephen King is getting at here.
All of these perspectives and more are filtered through the various walkers we get to know throughout the movie. At the center of the story are two crucial characters: one who wants to renew his mind to vengeance and hate, and another who wants to renew his mind to charity and love. As they get to know each other on the walk, we catch glimpses of the darkest nights pierced by unexpected beams of light. We watch theology at play, wondering which way the film might bend before it’s all over. Is there space in such a dark, dystopian narrative to imagine the cruciform ethics of enemy love? Or will all the additional trauma that the champion has incurred through the long walk give way to the hate and vengeance we all expect from such a movie?
On the off chance that you want to watch it, I’ll let that question remain a mystery.
Side note: David Jonsson is becoming one of my favorite actors.
Jamin Bradley 
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