Runner
by George Wolf
When all the running is done, Runner ends up caught in a movie limbo that is very 2026. If this has gone direct to streaming, it would rate above average among some less than stellar action romps. But among big screen releases, the latest from Angel Studios feels more like a passable but forgettable reach.
And yes, entertaining in its 97 PG-13 minutes.
Alan Ritchson stars as Hank Marlowe, a former military badass who “doesn’t hurt people anymore.” He’s a got a haunted past, a one year sobriety chip and a job in Australia as a “runner” who can deliver important packages such as priceless parakeets to various clients and destinations.
So even though he’s not hankerin’ for some action, action finds Hank when Ben Bishop (Owen Wilson) arrives with a very valuable asset. It’s a human liver meant to save the life of a seven year-old girl, and Ben will be serving as chaperone on Hank’s mission of mercy.
The mission get messy when a cartel kingpin (Rodrigo Santoro) comes calling. Turns out the girl and the liver share a rare blood type with the kingpin’s mother, who has a surgeon on standby waiting to perform her own life saving surgery.
As you might guess, Hank’s vow of non-violence gets thrown out the window alongside plenty of henchmen and bad guys.
Director Scott Waugh – a former stuntman – choreographs some decent actions sequences that cater to Ritchson’s size, physicality and understated charisma. Wilson is on auto pilot as the awkwardly enthusiastic comic relief, with the script from Miles Hubley and Tommy White conjuring moments of good natured rapport among some common action comedy beats.
It’s all a bit familiar and silly, and definitely guilty of too many bland, off- brand needle drops. But Ritchson and Wilson make their mismatch work well enough, and the film finds a groove of goofy fun that actually seems respectful of its audience.
So while Runner might be punching above its weight class, Ritchson is the perfect hero to put up the dukes and blow up some stuff while Wilson is quick with a quip. It ain’t quite art, but it’s not another streaming pile of algorithm, either. And if that’ll do, then enjoy.
