The Long Wait for The Long Walk

I’ve been a Stephen King fan for as long as I can remember, but The Long Walk has always held a special place for me. Written under his Richard Bachman pseudonym in the 1970’s, it’s a brutal, elegant allegory: 100 teenage boys forced to walk until only one remains, with death as the penalty for slowing down. The Prize? “Anything you want for the rest of your life.” Seductive. Terrifying. And, ultimately, hollow.

King has acknowledged the influence the Viet Nam War and the draft had on him and this story. The thing he was way in front of was the entertainment aspect of the horror. Reality TV. The brutal nature of extreme poverty and totalitarian authority and what they do to the human psyche. The Hunger Games and Squid Games are just two examples of this style of story that have reached great popularity. While I liked both of those, I’ll offer that The Long Walk, in the form of the novella King wrote, is better.  

Two decades ago, I tried to bring this story to the screen myself. By then I had already made two award-winning short films based on King’s work—Luckey Quarter and Roland Meets Brown. The latter won the American Gunslinger Contest, created by Simon & Schuster to celebrate the long-awaited fifth book in The Dark Tower series. It was right after King’s near-fatal accident with a drunk driver. No one knew if he’d even be able to finish his Magnum Opus, let alone return to writing at all.

That contest win gave me the surreal experience of meeting King. My wife and I went to the Simon & Schuster offices in Manhattan, where I sat next to him as he watched my short film. Imagine screening your work for your hero, your idol, with him sitting an arm’s length away. It was exhilarating, terrifying, unforgettable. And then, in an act of generosity I’ll never forget, King gave me ten minutes of one-on-one time.

I asked him about The Long Walk. I told him I wanted to adapt it. He listened, asked me a few questions, and told me to send him the script. Months later, I did. His assistant got back to me: the rights had just been given to Frank Darabont. Disappointing? Sure. But how could I be upset? Darabont had already given us The Shawshank Redemption and The Green Mile. If anyone could bring The Long Walk to life, it was him.

Now, twenty-one years later, The Long Walk is finally making its way to the big screen. Frank’s rights long since lapsed. Francis Lawrence, who directed The Hunger Games, is at the helm. As a lifelong fan, I feel both excitement and nervousness. This book is important to me. I’ve read it at least half a dozen times. Ray Garraty, the reluctant hero, still haunts me. The friendships he forms with the other boys—heartbreaking, temporary, doomed—play out against a backdrop of a militarized America and a bloodthirsty crowd cheering them on.

It’s almost unbearable and, somehow, I can’t look away.

***SPOILER ALERTS AHEAD***

And then there’s the ending. In the book, King leaves it open. This has been the source of many debates and discussions. Does Ray win? If so, what does he really win? What’s left of him to collect “The Prize?” Is The Prize real?

When I wrote my script version, I gave Ray an ending I was proud of: he wakes, after walking down Stebbins, in a pristine hospital, seemingly whole. His feet and legs - which felt like nearly useless appendages by the end of the walk - were clean, functional and, God love them, pain-free. He walked the long white hallways, congratulated by strangers, some with faces, some without—until he sees himself on an operating table in a surgical arena. The ubiquitous crowd stares down, cheering his surgery. He is strapped down, insane. The Major looks at Ray. In that moment, reflected in the Major’s aviator sunglasses, he realizes: there is no winning. To me, it felt important to give the viewer that closure - to make a statement. Not that it’s the “right” ending - but it’s a choice. I’m very curious to see what Lawrence does with this moment. 

The truth of The Long Walk for me is that it’s not about winning The Prize. It’s about endurance, friendship, futility, and the cost of survival. I don’t know how Lawrence will handle this story. The early reviews and trailers look great. The story itself, after a long, brutal walk of its own, is still standing. It awaits us…the crowd…to let it know what we think. 

--Robert Cochrane, PhD

Dr. Cochrane runs the nonprofit, Yes, And…eXercise! (YAX!).  He teaches Cinema Therapy classes, including the Shawshank Hero’s Journey. While YAX! primarily serves the Parkinson’s disease community, all are welcome in these online classes.