Stephen King and Glen Powell’s 'Running Man' Bombshell: Flop to Streaming Frenzy

Olivia Bennett, 1/15/2026Hollywood’s latest plot twist: The Running Man bombs at the box office but sprints to streaming stardom, proving in 2025’s glitzy chaos that redemption—and audience obsession—are just a click away. Glory, irony, and Glen Powell’s career crossroads set the scene for a deliciously unpredictable new Hollywood.

Paramount, perhaps still nursing bruises from last year’s superhero stumbles, shelled out a cool $110 million for this sci-fi reboot, only to watch its theatrical earnings sputter out at $68.5 million. The bean counters in the studio towers couldn’t have imagined such a shortfall, especially not with Edgar Wright sitting in the director’s chair—a man with credits like "Baby Driver" and "Shaun of the Dead," certainly no stranger to genre spectacle or brisk pacing. The casting even read like a Men’s Fashion Week roll call: Glen Powell, just off his "Top Gun: Maverick" high, stepping into the blood-soaked boots once filled by Schwarzenegger. Reinventing dystopia with a dose of jet-fueled charisma—at least, that was the plan.

Now, let’s not skim past the plot: It’s vintage King, made for modern appetites. Ben Richards, blackballed and blue-collared, dives headlong into "The Running Man"—a televised, hyper-violent gauntlet where the only thing standing between him and a billionaire’s payday is survival for thirty days. (Easy, right? Unless you count the small matter of being hunted on live TV.) Reviews—those eternal party crashers—hovered inconspicuously at 63% on Rotten Tomatoes, critics hedging their bets like poker players stuck with a pair of sevens. Audiences, always a little less precious, clocked in at a brawnier 78%. That gap says something, doesn’t it? There was an appetite for this kind of razor-wire entertainment, just maybe not in a $16 movie seat with sticky floors.

End of story? Hardly. In the twitch of the streamer's eye, "The Running Man" dashed from an eighth-place entrance on Paramount+ all the way to the summit. One day—just one. Not bad for a supposed flop, and a turnabout any Hollywood veteran might describe, only half in jest, as “absolutely bonkers.” The Canadian contingent, rarely extolled for their trendsetting, leapt to back up the charge, while PVOD charts on Amazon, Vudu, and iTunes looked like they’d been hit by a digital earthquake. Even the UK audience, ever so discerning, shot it to the top of their iTunes chart. MGM+, always clutching for a hit, debuted the film in their number one spot through Amazon Channels. Of course, none of this makes up for the theatrical shortfall, but it shakes a stick at the old truism that a box office misfire is a death sentence.

Here’s where the rubber meets the red carpet: what makes this meteoric streaming bounce so fascinating isn’t just numbers on a spreadsheet. This is a seismic shift in how Hollywood deciphers success. Gone are the days of a one-weekend make-or-break. Now, algorithms are the new gods, deciding which stories earn a miracle revival and which ones remain in purgatory. The old “cult classic” route has gone the way of Blockbuster Video—today’s flops have a shot at digital sainthood before the popcorn’s even cold. Edgar Wright, who may have spent his post-premiere evenings brooding over missed ticket sales, finds himself shepherding a project that didn’t gently simmer into relevance but instead lit up like a rogue firework online. King, for his part, could be forgiven for a knowing smirk; he’s no stranger to the wild peaks and valleys of adaptation. (Who can forget the whiplash from "Shawshank Redemption" to, say, his more “experimental” screen outings?)

As for Glen Powell, it’s a toss-up: is this the turbulence before cruising altitude, or the wind shear that propels a new phase in his career? He’s already circling his next A24 role, so perhaps "The Running Man" will prove to be the fuel, not the anchor.

A quick aside—2025 hasn’t exactly been shy with its remakes and revivals. Most have met with polite shrugs or outright ridicule, joining a swelling cemetery of the reimagined and the forgettable. But, every so often, one lurches up like a cinematic Dracula. "The Running Man" did more than just dodge the stake; it danced on the daylight, however briefly.

If there’s one truth beneath all the plasma screens and social-media hysteria, it’s this: both studio execs and newly-minted disruptors ought to heed the double-edged nature of audience appetites. Viewers still chase danger, spectacle, and (occasionally) second chances. The catch? These days, redemption isn’t a decades-long crawl to cult status; it’s an overnight streaming sprint, just a click away for anyone hungry enough to chase it.

In the end, this is a tale as old as Hollywood—flops sometimes earn a second act, and sometimes, that act is streamed. There’s no single formula, no neat epilogue. But if this year’s saga means anything, it’s that the so-called “rules” are as fluid as a streaming queue. Come to think of it, maybe that’s the real thrill: the industry’s game show carries on, one staggering twist at a time.

It’s almost poetic—no, scratch that, it’s positively Shakespearean—the way Stephen King’s "The Running Man" has risen from the ashes in 2025, proving once more that Hollywood’s verdicts really do come with an asterisk these days. Names were practically chiseled for the flop hall of fame after the film’s sluggish box office performance. And yet, all it took was a stretch of 24 streaming hours for Hollywood’s tides to turn—a dazzling resurrection worthy of its own late-night tabloid write-up.Paramount, perhaps still nursing bruises from last year’s superhero stumbles, shelled out a cool $110 million for this sci-fi reboot, only to watch its theatrical earnings sputter out at $68.5 million. The bean counters in the studio towers couldn’t have imagined such a shortfall, especially not with Edgar Wright sitting in the director’s chair—a man with credits like "Baby Driver" and "Shaun of the Dead," certainly no stranger to genre spectacle or brisk pacing. The casting even read like a Men’s Fashion Week roll call: Glen Powell, just off his "Top Gun: Maverick" high, stepping into the blood-soaked boots once filled by Schwarzenegger. Reinventing dystopia with a dose of jet-fueled charisma—at least, that was the plan.Now, let’s not skim past the plot: It’s vintage King, made for modern appetites. Ben Richards, blackballed and blue-collared, dives headlong into "The Running Man"—a televised, hyper-violent gauntlet where the only thing standing between him and a billionaire’s payday is survival for thirty days. (Easy, right? Unless you count the small matter of being hunted on live TV.) Reviews—those eternal party crashers—hovered inconspicuously at 63% on Rotten Tomatoes, critics hedging their bets like poker players stuck with a pair of sevens. Audiences, always a little less precious, clocked in at a brawnier 78%. That gap says something, doesn’t it? There was an appetite for this kind of razor-wire entertainment, just maybe not in a $16 movie seat with sticky floors.End of story? Hardly. In the twitch of the streamer's eye, "The Running Man" dashed from an eighth-place entrance on Paramount+ all the way to the summit. One day—just one. Not bad for a supposed flop, and a turnabout any Hollywood veteran might describe, only half in jest, as “absolutely bonkers.” The Canadian contingent, rarely extolled for their trendsetting, leapt to back up the charge, while PVOD charts on Amazon, Vudu, and iTunes looked like they’d been hit by a digital earthquake. Even the UK audience, ever so discerning, shot it to the top of their iTunes chart. MGM+, always clutching for a hit, debuted the film in their number one spot through Amazon Channels. Of course, none of this makes up for the theatrical shortfall, but it shakes a stick at the old truism that a box office misfire is a death sentence.Here’s where the rubber meets the red carpet: what makes this meteoric streaming bounce so fascinating isn’t just numbers on a spreadsheet. This is a seismic shift in how Hollywood deciphers success. Gone are the days of a one-weekend make-or-break. Now, algorithms are the new gods, deciding which stories earn a miracle revival and which ones remain in purgatory. The old “cult classic” route has gone the way of Blockbuster Video—today’s flops have a shot at digital sainthood before the popcorn’s even cold. Edgar Wright, who may have spent his post-premiere evenings brooding over missed ticket sales, finds himself shepherding a project that didn’t gently simmer into relevance but instead lit up like a rogue firework online. King, for his part, could be forgiven for a knowing smirk; he’s no stranger to the wild peaks and valleys of adaptation. (Who can forget the whiplash from "Shawshank Redemption" to, say, his more “experimental” screen outings?)As for Glen Powell, it’s a toss-up: is this the turbulence before cruising altitude, or the wind shear that propels a new phase in his career? He’s already circling his next A24 role, so perhaps "The Running Man" will prove to be the fuel, not the anchor.A quick aside—2025 hasn’t exactly been shy with its remakes and revivals. Most have met with polite shrugs or outright ridicule, joining a swelling cemetery of the reimagined and the forgettable. But, every so often, one lurches up like a cinematic Dracula. "The Running Man" did more than just dodge the stake; it danced on the daylight, however briefly.If there’s one truth beneath all the plasma screens and social-media hysteria, it’s this: both studio execs and newly-minted disruptors ought to heed the double-edged nature of audience appetites. Viewers still chase danger, spectacle, and (occasionally) second chances. The catch? These days, redemption isn’t a decades-long crawl to cult status; it’s an overnight streaming sprint, just a click away for anyone hungry enough to chase it.In the end, this is a tale as old as Hollywood—flops sometimes earn a second act, and sometimes, that act is streamed. There’s no single formula, no neat epilogue. But if this year’s saga means anything, it’s that the so-called “rules” are as fluid as a streaming queue. Come to think of it, maybe that’s the real thrill: the industry’s game show carries on, one staggering twist at a time.