Before Squid Game, There Was The Running Man

The global phenomenon of Squid Game introduced millions to a dystopian vision where individuals are forced to compete in deadly games for survival and wealth, all under the watchful eyes of a society desensitized to suffering. But what if I told you that Squid Game isn’t as original as it seems? Decades earlier, The Running Man (1987) presented a strikingly similar dystopian narrative that not only captured the brutality of survival but also critiqued society’s obsession with entertainment and authoritarianism. Today, we’ll explore how The Running Man served as a precursor to the themes and ideas we now associate with Squid Game.


The Premise: A Game for Survival

At its core, The Running Man is about a televised bloodsport where contestants fight for their lives, offering entertainment to a dystopian society. Set in the year 2017—a chillingly close prediction when viewed in retrospect—the film presents a world dominated by a totalitarian government. Resources are scarce, freedom is a memory, and television is used as an opiate for the masses. Contestants of The Running Man game show are prisoners, often framed or coerced, who must battle “stalkers” (the show’s gladiatorial killers) in order to win their freedom.

Sound familiar? Squid Game echoes this structure, albeit with a more personal twist. Instead of prisoners, its contestants are everyday individuals drowning in debt. Both works pit their characters against impossible odds for the amusement of others, with their lives hanging in the balance. The games in both stories serve as microcosms of the class divide, where the privileged exploit the desperate for entertainment and profit.


Satire and Social Commentary

The brilliance of The Running Man lies in its biting satire. The film doesn’t just depict a dystopian future—it reflects the societal fears of the 1980s. The rise of reality television, the commodification of violence, and the erosion of civil liberties all take center stage. The show’s host, Damon Killian (played by the charismatic Richard Dawson), embodies the corrupt intersection of entertainment and propaganda, manipulating audiences while maintaining a polished facade.

This critique resonates with Squid Game, which exposes the dehumanization wrought by capitalism. In both works, the system reduces people to commodities, valuing their pain and suffering as long as it generates profit. The Running Man may lean more into satire, with its over-the-top stalkers and cheesy one-liners, but its underlying message about exploitation and spectacle is just as poignant as Squid Game’s exploration of economic despair.


The Spectacle of Violence

What makes The Running Man and Squid Game so compelling is their depiction of violence as entertainment. In The Running Man, the audience cheers as contestants are hunted and killed, oblivious to the moral decay it represents. The stalkers—colorful, exaggerated killers with names like Subzero, Buzzsaw, and Fireball—are treated as celebrities, reinforcing the idea that violence is marketable as long as it’s flashy.

In Squid Game, the violence is more grounded and personal. The contestants form relationships, alliances, and betrayals, making their deaths more poignant and tragic. While The Running Man leans into the absurdity of its premise, Squid Game forces viewers to confront the human cost of such a system. Yet, both works challenge us to question why we, as audiences, find these spectacles so entertaining.


The Hero and the System

Arnold Schwarzenegger’s Ben Richards is a man framed for a massacre he didn’t commit, thrust into the deadly game as a scapegoat for the government’s corruption. His arc is about survival and rebellion—he not only wants to escape the game but also expose the truth about the regime. Richards embodies the classic action hero, a larger-than-life figure who fights back against impossible odds.

In Squid Game, Seong Gi-hun is a far more ordinary protagonist. He’s flawed, desperate, and often unsure of himself. Yet, both Richards and Gi-hun represent the everyman fighting against systems designed to exploit and discard them. Their victories, however small, serve as a form of resistance against oppressive powers.


A Legacy of Dystopia

While The Running Man didn’t achieve the critical acclaim of other dystopian classics like Blade Runner or 1984, its influence is undeniable. The film’s themes, though wrapped in a campy action package, have aged surprisingly well. Its vision of a media-driven dystopia feels eerily prescient in an era where reality TV dominates, and the lines between entertainment and exploitation blur.

Squid Game builds upon this foundation, presenting a more nuanced and emotionally resonant take on similar ideas. Where The Running Man was bold and bombastic, Squid Game is subtle and haunting. Both, however, force us to confront uncomfortable truths about our world.


Conclusion: Two Sides of the Same Coin

The Running Man may not have been the first story to explore these themes—Richard Bachman’s (aka Stephen King’s) original novel, written in 1982, deserves credit—but it was a trailblazer in bringing them to the big screen. Its DNA can be seen in Squid Game and countless other stories about dystopian games and societal collapse.

If Squid Game is a mirror reflecting our present anxieties, then The Running Man is a time capsule of fears from decades past. Both invite us to question the systems we live under and the cost of entertainment in a world where human life is commodified. So, the next time you enjoy a dystopian survival story, remember The Running Man. It may not have had neon jumpsuits or dalgona candy, but it walked so Squid Game could run.