Stephen King is rightfully celebrated for his mastery of horror, but far less often is he praised for his piercing, often uncomfortable insight into the emotional interior lives of young men. Beneath the supernatural dread of The Losers Club in “It” and the nostalgic ache of revisiting yesteryear in “The Body” (which became the gold standard of coming-of-age stories about white boyhood in “Stand By Me”) lies a profound exploration of the fragile, formative bonds between boys; their fears, their loyalties, and their longing for connection in a world that often denies them emotional vocabulary or permission of expression. But “The Long Walk” has always been my favorite example of valorizing the friendships nurtured between and by boys, allowing them to carry the same weight as any romantic love story. It argues, with aching clarity, that these connections can shape a person for the rest of their life.
Garraty and McVries, as personified by Hoffman and Jonsson, produce an eternal chemistry that sets the new bar for King protagonists. From the moment they introduce themselves to one another, it’s like there’s a gravitational pull between them that feels as guileless and inescapable as the walk itself. Mollner’s script takes a page out of Frank Darabont’s guidebook when adapting “The Mist,” improving upon King’s fantastic source material, reshaping and redistributing character traits between the duo in ways that feel equal parts respectful and revelatory. Nothing feels lost by condensing the nearly 400-page book into under two hours, and prioritizing their relationship gives the film an urgency as high-stakes as the walk itself.
Their love, whether it canonically be platonic, romantic, or something impossible to understand unless under the circumstances of The Walk, is the lifeblood of the entire film, even as the body count rises around them. Just as it can only be Garraty and McVries, this film can only be led by Hoffman and Jonsson. Each conversation between the pair is transfixing, with a quiet desperation in every glance, every step in tandem, and every line delivered with the subtle quake of boys who know they’re on borrowed time.
No matter how exhausted, desperate, or in agony they appear, you can’t help but hope they keep walking. Not just to survive, but so we, the audience, don’t have to say goodbye to them either.
/Film Rating: 9 out of 10
“The Long Walk” steps into theaters on September 12, 2025.
