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The Running Man
fiction · Stephen King, writing as Richard Bachman; film (1987) directed by Paul Michael Glaser, screenplay by Steven E. de Souza · 1982
A story the culture argues through. Carried graded — what it got right and what it got wrong, against dates.
Filed correctly as fiction, and the alternative worth arguing is prediction, which has a better case here than for anything else of this kind in the canon. Both due dates have passed. The novel is set in 2025, which ended eight months ago; the 1987 film's title card says 2017, which is nine years behind us. total-recall-1990 could refuse the prediction question by pointing at an internal date of 2084 and saying nothing was yet owed. Nothing is owed here either, but only because nobody was ever lent anything: King wrote a paperback original in about a week and published it under a pseudonym, and de Souza's script picked 2017 the way scripts pick years. A forecaster accepts a due date; a novelist picks a setting. The distinction is the whole reason this canon keeps prediction separate, and soylent-green-1973 settled the identical question the same way two runs before this one — its title card names 2022, the year came and went, and it stayed fiction. What the passed dates do change is section 3, which grades harder than a fiction entry usually can, because for once the calendar is on the reader's side.
Which work is this entry, and the id is slightly wrong in a way worth saying out loud. The id year points at the 1982 novel. The content that earns the entry is in the 1987 film, and a third work has since arrived that neither the id nor canon/proposals.md could have accounted for: Edgar Wright's remake, released 14 November 2025, in the year the novel was set. I have written all three, because the mechanism this canon needs mutates across them and the mutation is the most useful thing here — 1982 dubs over the man's voice, 1987 synthesises his body from a database of his own images, 2025 calls it a deepfake and says so on screen. That is one idea told three times, forty-three years apart, in whatever medium was frightening at the time. I have not renamed the file: ids are what the builder indexes and what other entries cite, and running-man-1982 is the id the proposal reserved. Where the three works diverge, I say which one I mean.
A correction to the proposal, since it will otherwise be inherited. canon/proposals.md says the film "diverges from the book" by having the state manufacture video of the protagonist committing a massacre, and implies the novel's Richards is likewise framed. The first half is right and the second is not. In the novel the atrocity Richards is blamed for is one he actually commits — an explosion in a Boston Y.M.C.A. basement that kills five police officers — and the Network's manipulation is a different and, for this project, sharper thing: it does not invent his crimes, it substitutes his speech. Richards mails true statements about who is poisoning the air; the Network overdubs them with obscenities and threats before broadcast, and uses the tapes mainly to trace where he posted them. Fabrication and censorship turn out to be the same operation once one party owns the channel, which is a better sentence than the one the proposal was reaching for.
Research caveats, stated up front, and they are heavier than this canon likes. I did not read the novel; no legitimate full text was reachable from here (the Internet Archive copy is lending-only), so every plot claim about the book below rests on secondary summaries and is marked as such in Sources. I did not screen either film. The one line of 1987 dialogue I quote comes from a fan transcript rather than the shooting script, and on a second request that site's text was not reproduced at length, so the quotation is short and a later run with the disc should check it. Three things in particular a future session should verify against the primary works: that the Network's overdubbing is on the page in those terms, that the Y.M.C.A. deaths are Richards' own doing, and the exact wording of the control-room scene.
descends_from is empty, and the emptiness is a gap in the canon rather than a claim about the work. There is a documented antecedent and it is not here: Robert Sheckley's "The Prize of Peril" (1958), a televised manhunt with the viewing public helping, which is the story the whole subgenre descends from and which Wikipedia names as this novel's forerunner. The 1987 film has a harder debt still. Yves Boisset filmed Sheckley's story as Le Prix du Danger (1983), sued the producers of The Running Man for plagiarism, lost on appeal, won in cassation, and — per the French film press — was vindicated around 1996 after roughly eleven years, with damages that barely covered his costs. That is a court finding that this particular film about who owns the record and who is allowed to edit it was itself an unauthorised copy, and I would draw the edge to prix-du-danger-1983 in a second if it existed. It does not, and I am not inventing ids.
Two edges I declined. nineteen-eighty-four-1949 is the obvious structural parent — an institution falsifying the record while an original survives — and I have no documented debt from King to Orwell for this book, so it stays a comparison rather than an ancestor, exactly as that entry handled its own missing parents. And total-recall-1990 cannot be an ancestor: it is eight years later, and neither work derives from the other. But that entry closed by asking a later run to draw the pairing from this side, so section 2 draws it — not as a graph edge, but as the thing the pairing is actually good for, which is a two-line test for deciding which of the two entries a reading should be citing.
What it is
The novel (1982). Ben Richards is twenty-eight, blacklisted, unemployable and broke in Co-Op City, outside a Midwestern city called Harding, in a 2025 America that has finished collapsing. His eighteen-month-old daughter Cathy has a cough that is probably pneumonia and he cannot buy the medicine; his wife Sheila is prostituting herself to cover the rest. So he goes to the Games Network, whose free-to-every-home Free-Vee sets carry a schedule of programmes in which desperate people are injured for money, and he qualifies for the top one. The terms of The Running Man: he is declared an enemy of the state and given a twelve-hour head start, after which the Hunters — the Network's professional killers — come for him. He earns $100 for every hour he stays alive and another $100 for every Hunter or police officer he kills, and if he lasts thirty days he wins a billion. Nobody has ever lasted thirty days. Two conditions make the show work. He must mail the Network two videotaped messages a day or the money stops, and any member of the public who reports his whereabouts is paid.
Both conditions are the entry. The tapes are the Network's tracking mechanism dressed as a rule of the game, and they are also its editorial supply: when Richards uses them to tell the audience what he has learned from Bradley — that the smog killing the poor is a deliberate by-product of a Network-run industrial process, that nose filters exist and only the rich have them, and that the Games exist to keep everyone watching while they are poisoned — the Network dubs over his voice with obscenities and threats and airs the result. The audience sees a snarling animal saying what the Network needs him to say. Meanwhile the tip payments turn every stranger into a camera.
Richards does not survive by being innocent, and this is the part most summaries soften: hunted into a Boston Y.M.C.A., he sets off an explosion in the basement that kills five police officers. The Network's coverage of his savagery is, on that count, accurate. What it never carries is why he ran or what he found out. At the end he hijacks an airliner, learns from the host, Killian, that Sheila and Cathy have been dead for days — murdered while he was still earning hours for them — is offered Killian's job as chief Hunter, and instead flies the aircraft into the Games Building. King published that ending in 1982 and it has read differently since September 2001; he has been asked about it often and it is not, on any account I found, an intended prophecy.
The film (1987). Same title, almost none of the same plot. Ben Richards is a police helicopter pilot in 2017 who refuses an order to fire on an unarmed food riot in Bakersfield. His crew subdue him and carry out the massacre. The state then broadcasts an edited cut of the gun-camera footage in which Richards is the one who fired, and he becomes "the Butcher of Bakersfield." Eighteen months in a labour camp, an escape, a recapture, and Damon Killian — the host of the state's top show, played by Richard Dawson, an actual game-show host, which does more satirical work than the script does — coerces him onto The Running Man by threatening his friends. Richards is hunted through a ruined quarantine zone by costumed "stalkers" and, unprecedentedly, kills them.
Three fabrications carry the film, and they are all the same operation aimed at different targets. First, the edited Bakersfield tape, which converts a refusal into an atrocity. Second, the winners: Killian tells the audience that last season's champions, "Whitman, Price and Haddad," are "basking under the Maui sun, their debt to society paid in full," and Amber Mendez — an ICS staffer who starts out believing the broadcast and goes looking for the original — finds their corpses. The same machine that manufactures a villain manufactures good news, and the good news is the more efficient lie because nobody goes looking. Third, and the reason this entry exists at all: when Captain Freedom, a retired stalker, refuses to fight Richards on the network's terms, Killian has the footage synthesised. A technician tells him, in a line written in 1986 and shot in 1987:
> "We're loading Richards' image onto the database, and when he's mapped onto > the stunt double, you'll never know the difference."
Then a traveling matte, a digital composite, and a broadcast in which Captain Freedom kills Richards and Amber in front of the country. Richards' response is the correct one and it is about custody, not truth: if the nation has watched him die, then the state can never let him be seen alive.
The counter-move is the whole point. Amber has physically retrieved the uncut Bakersfield tape from the network's own archive — she describes it as the original video "before they edited for broadcasting" — and the underground has the satellite uplink codes. The film ends with the unedited footage going out on the network's own transmitter while Richards holds the building. The remedy for a fabricated record is an original that survived, plus the ability to distribute it. Nothing in 1987 popular cinema states that as plainly.
The production is worth two sentences because it explains the film's shape. George P. Cosmatos was attached with Christopher Reeve, in a version much closer to the novel's unemployed man running for thirty days; after budget disputes Andrew Davis took over and was fired two weeks into shooting in September 1986; Paul Michael Glaser finished it, and Schwarzenegger's later verdict was that Glaser "shot the movie like it was a TV show, losing all the deeper themes." De Souza wrote fifteen drafts. It cost $27m and took $38.1m domestically. The film that best states this canon's mechanism is a troubled studio action picture that a French court later found to be a copy of somebody else's film.
The remake (2025). Edgar Wright, co-written with Michael Bacall, Paramount, released 12 November 2025 in the UK and 14 November in the US; $110m against about $69m worldwide, which is a failure at the box office and irrelevant to why it is in this entry. It returns to the novel: three runners, thirty days, a billion dollars, a $1,000 stake, a twelve-hour head start, daily self-filmed dispatches, and — the novel's mechanism made contemporary — ordinary citizens paid for sightings, hunting alongside the professionals. And it takes the novel's overdubbing and updates the technology to the one that now exists: Ben records a piece denouncing the Network, and what goes to air is "a foul-mouthed deepfake of Ben." Later Killian broadcasts fabricated footage of Ben's wife and child being murdered, and then a deepfake of Ben threatening to fly a plane into Network headquarters, which is used to justify shooting the aircraft down. The truth surfaces the same way it does in 1987, through an artifact the fabricator did not control: the black box, recovered with an unaltered recording of what Killian actually said.
Three works, one shape. The fabrication is answered by an original that survived in a container the liar did not own — an archive tape, a flight recorder. Everything section 2 does with this entry follows from that.
Why a reading would cite it
Two occasions, and they must be kept apart because only one of them is reliably about AI.
Occasion one: an institution distributes a fabricated recording of an identifiable person, as record. This is the film's mechanism and it is no longer hypothetical anywhere.
- 13 March 2026 — the National Republican Senatorial Committee released an online ad built around an AI-fabricated video of the Democratic Senate candidate James Talarico appearing to speak to camera for more than a minute, reported by CNN as the latest of a series from the same committee. In the same reporting, Representative Mike Collins circulated a fabricated video of Senator Jon Ossoff saying he had voted to keep the government shut down, which Ossoff never said.
- 12 August 2026 — in New York's 21st district, the Republican candidate Anthony Constantino released an AI-generated video of his opponent Blake Gendebien saying things he never said, and the dispute became a test of the state's election law (WCAX).
- 18 August 2026 — this project's own reading recorded Meta's advertising system serving an ad for a "nudify" app whose creative was a pornographic deepfake closely resembling a prominent US politician, with the removal carried out by Apple's App Store review rather than by the platform that was paid to run it (Wired, reached via Techmeme).
The film's specific contribution to reading these is who does it. The 1987 fabrication is not the work of a hidden conspiracy; it is done by employees, in a control room, on a deadline, for ratings, and broadcast under the network's own name. Every case above has the same property: a named committee, a named candidate, a named advertising platform, all operating in the open with a logo attached. A reading that reaches for a shadowy-actor frame when the fabricator has a press office will misdescribe the problem and misname the remedy.
The remedy is also in the film, and it is gradeable. The answer to the fabricated broadcast is the surviving original plus a way to distribute it — which in 2026 language is provenance and authentication. So: how far has that apparatus actually got, thirty-nine years later? Proposed Federal Rule of Evidence 707, which would put machine-generated evidence under the reliability standards that govern expert testimony, and proposed Rule 901(c), which would create a burden-shifting procedure for claims that audio or video has been AI-generated or altered, were both out for public comment through 16 February 2026 and were both held as study items at the Advisory Committee's May 2026 meeting rather than advanced; the often-quoted 1 December 2027 effective date is not on track. Courts are improvising in the meantime — a Washington court excluded AI-enhanced video in State v. Puloka, a New York surrogate's court required affirmative disclosure of AI-generated exhibits in Matter of Weber, and a Minnesota federal court struck expert testimony resting on AI-fabricated citations in Kohls v. Ellison. On the technical side, the provenance apparatus is arriving with its limits admitted: this project recorded Anthropic's text watermark on 14–15 August 2026 together with its maker's own list of the cases it does not survive. The film named the remedy in 1987. In 2026 the remedy is three court improvisations, two rules that have not moved, and one watermark whose maker publishes its holes.
And the inversion, which is the most valuable thing this entry can be cited for. In all three works, producing the original wins. In 2026 the traffic runs the other way at least as often: the existence of convincing fakes has become a reason to disbelieve authentic recordings — Chesney and Citron's liar's dividend. Guy Reffitt's counsel argued the January 6th prosecution's evidence was deepfaked; Tesla's lawyers argued that Elon Musk's recorded public statements about self-driving safety should not be used against him because such recordings could be deepfakes. The film has no scene for this, and cannot: its entire climax depends on an audience that still believes a tape when it sees one. Cite this entry for the asymmetry, not for the victory. The surviving original is necessary and it has stopped being sufficient, and the gap between those two is where most of the 2026 damage lives.
Occasion two: a crowd is paid to do surveillance. This is the novel's half, and it needs a harder admission test because paid informants are ancient and none of this is AI by itself.
- 4 December 2025 — a Justice Department memo ordered the FBI to build a cash reward system for public tips on suspected domestic terrorism, and to revise the Bureau's Digital Media Tipline so that "witnesses and citizen journalists" could upload media of suspected acts directly to federal law enforcement, with the tipline changes due by early January 2026 and a plan to publicise the line due in the same week (Washington Examiner, 11 December 2025). Payment for reports, plus a pipe for the footage: that is the novel's arrangement with the postal step removed.
- February–June 2026 — the missing capability, and the reason this occasion becomes an AI citation rather than a history lesson. King's crowd could only report a man they already recognised. The New York Times reported in February 2026 that Meta was developing "Name Tag" facial recognition for its Ray-Ban and Oakley glasses, letting a wearer identify strangers in real time against Meta's databases; EPIC wrote to the FTC on 13 February; a coalition of more than seventy-five civil-liberties organisations wrote to Zuckerberg in April; and in June the EFF reported that Meta had stripped the unactivated facial-recognition code from its app. It was not shipped. It was built, and withdrawn under pressure, which is a fact about what is now buildable rather than about what is deployed — and the honest way to cite it.
So the test for this half: cite it only when the machine supplies the identification. A tip line with a bounty is 1982, and 1962, and 1692. A tip line with a bounty where the tipster's device names the stranger is the thing the novel described without being able to imagine how it would work, and it is the only version worth a canon citation in an AI reading.
The test before citing at all, and this is the edge total-recall-1990 asked for, drawn from this side. The two entries look like the same worry and are opposites, so the choice between them is a decision procedure with one question:
> Does an unedited original exist, and could some party still produce it?
If yes — a master tape in an archive, a flight recorder, a signed capture, a second copy in someone else's custody — this is the entry. The failure is custody and distribution: somebody had the truth and controlled who saw it. That is a governance finding with named parties, and it names its own remedies, which are retention, independent copies, provenance at capture and a channel the fabricator does not own.
If no original survives, or the fabrication was manufactured together with its corroboration, it is total-recall-1990 and the failure is epistemic.
Getting this backwards is expensive in both directions. Reach for Total Recall when an original exists and you have upgraded somebody's editorial decision into an impossibility, which excuses the party who made it. Reach for The Running Man when nothing survives and you have promised a remedy — produce the tape — that nobody can perform. By this test the political-deepfake cases are mostly this entry: Talarico never said those words, and the proof is the entire recorded corpus of what he did say. The Meta nudify ad is neither cleanly — there is no original of an event that never happened, and what is missing is not evidence but enforcement.
The brake. There is no AI in any of these three works. The 1987 fabrication is a human effects pipeline — a database of stored images, a stunt double, a traveling matte, a technician who can be fired — and the 2025 film's "deepfake" is a plot device with a modern label. That matters for a project whose whole job is grading claims about machines: the works got the social mechanism right decades early and say nothing about the technical one. A reading that cites the film as having predicted generative video is claiming something the film does not support and does not need.
What it got right, and what it got wrong
Claim dates: 4 May 1982 for the novel, drafted in about a week (Wikipedia dates the draft to February 1973), set in 2025; 13 November 1987 for the film, set in 2017; 14 November 2025 for the remake, set in an unnamed near future. The first two settings are in the past, so this section can grade against a calendar rather than against a shape — the privilege total-recall-1990 did not have.
Right, and it is the entry — synthetic video of a real person, built from stored images of that person, broadcast by the institution that owns the channel. Staged in 1987, with the workflow roughly correct: a library of prior footage of the target, a performer to carry the body, a mapping step, and a technician's promise that "you'll never know the difference." A modern face-swap works nothing like a traveling matte, and the procedure is recognisable anyway — collect the subject's recorded appearance, drive it with someone else's performance, ship it through a distribution channel you control. Graded against March to August 2026, when a Senate campaign committee did precisely this to a candidate and a congressional campaign did it to another, the film is not approximately right. It is right about who, why, and how it reaches an audience, and it is thirty-nine years early.
Right — the remedy, and both films name it. 1987 answers fabrication with the archive master; 2025 answers it with the flight recorder. That is the provenance argument in dramatic form, and every serious 2026 proposal in this area — C2PA-style capture-time signing, watermarking, Rule 901(c)'s burden-shifting, the chain-of-custody discipline now being pressed on police digital evidence — is a version of "keep an original in a container the liar does not control."
Right — the fabrication is commercial before it is political. Killian fakes a death because Captain Freedom will not perform and the show must air. The Network dubs Richards because his real message is bad for the schedule. Neither is ideology; both are inventory. The 2026 record matches: the nudify deepfake was an advertisement, served by an ad system, because someone paid. The political deepfakes are campaign media, produced on a campaign calendar and to a campaign budget.
Right, and better than the film — the novel's substitution. Overdubbing a man's real dissent with invented obscenity is a stronger observation than inventing a crime, because it shows that suppression and fabrication are the same act when one party owns the channel: whether the Network deletes Richards or replaces him, the public hears only what the Network utters. That is the mechanism now visible in every dispute about ranking, moderation and synthetic narration — including this project's own 17–18 August 2026 item on Reddit voicing real users' comments through a synthetic narrator with undisclosed selection rules. King had it in 1982 in an unmistakable form.
Right — paid crowd reporting, verbatim. The novel pays viewers for sightings; in December 2025 a federal directive ordered a cash reward system for public tips and a media upload channel for "citizen journalists." Grade this as right on the mechanism, not on the meaning: paying for tips is not a novel invention and King did not need to be a prophet to write it down.
Right, incidentally, and worth a line because this project reads it weekly — the coercion is medical. Richards runs because his daughter's medicine costs more than he has; Wright's 2025 Ben runs for the same reason. Whatever else has aged, that has not.
Wrong, and this is the big one — the monopoly. In all three works fabrication requires a Network: one broadcaster, one archive, one effects suite, one host. Everything the plots do depends on that scarcity, including the endings, because if there is exactly one master tape then stealing it is a decisive act. What actually arrived is the opposite: fabrication is cheap, distributed, available to a campaign volunteer, and there is no single archive to raid. The consequence is that the film's remedy does not scale. You cannot recover the original of a thing that never happened, and there is no building to storm. The remedy that survives the correction is the boring one — signatures at the moment of capture, retained originals in third-party custody, an evidentiary rule that puts the burden somewhere — which is precisely the apparatus that, as of the May 2026 committee meeting, has not been adopted.
Wrong — there is no network, in the other sense. The Free-Vee is broadcast: one-way, scheduled, in every home, with the Network holding the only copy of everything. There is no internet in the novel, which is why the crowd must telephone tips in and why a single archive theft can matter. This is the same failure this canon graded in back-to-the-future-ii-1989 — extrapolating the visible present, in this case 1970s television, and missing the thing that had no consumer form yet. Both got the objects wrong in the same direction, and here the missing object is the one that determines everything: the distribution channel nobody owns.
Wrong, and this is the misuse most likely to damage a reading — exposure ends it. All three works end with the truth broadcast and the power collapsing or humbled. The 2026 record contains no such mechanism. The Bakersfield tape of our era is aired constantly and changes very little: the nudify ad was documented in a CBS investigation and by regulators in July 2026 and still ran on Meta in August; the AI-generated attack ads were identified as fabrications in national reporting within hours and the campaigns kept running them, because there is no federal law against them and the identification cost the campaign nothing. Revelation is not a mechanism. A reading that cites this entry and imports its ending will overstate what disclosure accomplishes, which is the single most common optimistic error available in this subject.
Wrong — the audience. The crowd in these works is bloodthirsty, duped, and then converted in one broadcast. Neither half is right. The 2026 audience is not baying and not persuadable in a single stroke; it is fragmented, partially informed, and mostly not looking. The novel's contempt and the film's redemption are both flattering simplifications, and a reading that borrows either will get the public wrong.
Wrong, and least interestingly — the furniture. New Dollars, Free-Vee, Hunters, labour camps, rocket sleds, an America that has finished collapsing by 2017. Recorded for completeness. Nobody should cite this entry for its world.
One thing I decline to grade. The novel's ending, an airliner flown into a tower, is regularly offered as King's most prescient page. It is not a claim about anything this project tracks, no forecaster proposed it, and treating a plot resolution as a hit would be exactly the kind of retrospective scoring the prediction kind exists to keep honest. It is noted here so a later reading does not discover it and mistake it for a finding.
Commonly misused as
Not required for fiction, but this title attracts misuse at an unusual rate, partly because most people citing it have seen the 1987 film once and are citing the vibe.
Misused as a prophecy of reality television. It is the standing reading and it is the least useful one available. Yes, both films precede Survivor and the rest; no, that is not why this canon has an id for it. Cited that way the entry says nothing an AI reading can use, and it crowds out the mechanism that is actually citable.
Misused as a story about AI. There is no artificial intelligence in the novel, the film, or — despite the word — meaningfully in the remake. The fabrication is done by people at consoles. This matters for a project whose entire job is grading claims about machines: the works are evidence about institutions and incentives, and no evidence at all about capability.
Misused as "you can't trust video any more." Both films argue the exact opposite, which is that video is decisive — so decisive that the whole plot turns on who is holding the real reel. If the entry is being cited to support generalised visual nihilism, either the wrong entry is being cited (see total-recall-1990) or the finding has been overstated.
Misused by taking the ending as the argument. The exposé airs, the host dies, the audience turns. Section 3 grades that as the work's clearest error. A reading that cites this file for the proposition that sunlight fixes fabrication has cited it for the one thing it got badly wrong.
Misused by conflating the novel with the film. They fail differently. The novel is a man whose true words are replaced before broadcast and whose real crimes are reported accurately; the film is a man whose crime is manufactured from edited footage and whose death is later manufactured outright. A reading that means "the state fabricated the evidence" means the film, or the remake, and should say so — the novel does not contain that.
Misused to imply that fabrication requires a conspiracy. The film has one because a film needs a villain. The 2026 cases have committees, ad-buying tools, and no coordination whatsoever. The mechanism does not need a Killian; it needs a channel and a reason, and the absence of a conspiracy is not evidence that nothing is happening.
Sources
Primary works. None was read or screened in full for this entry; that is the entry's main weakness and every claim below inherits it.
- Richard Bachman [Stephen King], The Running Man, Signet, 4 May 1982. Not read for this entry — no legitimate full text was reachable; the Internet Archive copy is lending-only. Plot claims rest on the secondary summaries listed below.
- The Running Man, dir. Paul Michael Glaser, TriStar, released 13 November 1987. Not screened for this entry.
- The Running Man, dir. Edgar Wright, Paramount, released 12 November 2025 (UK) / 14 November 2025 (US). Not screened for this entry.
Secondary, for the works.
- The Running Man (novel)), Wikipedia — publication date and pseudonym, February 1973 draft, the 2025 setting, the terms of the game ($100/hour, $100 per Hunter or officer, $1bn for thirty days, twelve-hour head start), the two daily tapes, viewer payments for reports, the Network's censorship of his messages, and the ending.
- The Running Man (1987 film)), Wikipedia — the 2017 setting, the Bakersfield frame-up, Amber's recovery of the uncut tape, the synthesised Captain Freedom sequence, the final broadcast, and the production history (Cosmatos and Reeve, Davis fired after two weeks in September 1986, Glaser, de Souza's fifteen drafts, Dawson's casting, $27m budget, $38.1m domestic gross, Schwarzenegger's later criticism).
- The Running Man (2025 film)), Wikipedia — release dates, $110m budget against roughly $69m worldwide, the runners' terms, citizens paid for sightings, the "foul-mouthed deepfake" of Ben, the fabricated murder of his family, the deepfake used to justify shooting down the plane, and the black box as the surviving original.
- Fan transcript of the 1987 film — source of the control-room line quoted above ("loading Richards' image onto the database... mapped onto the stunt double"), of Killian's "basking under the Maui sun" claim about the previous winners, and of Amber's description of the original Bakersfield video. A fan transcript, not the shooting script; a later run with the disc or the published screenplay should verify the wording.
- On the disputed ancestry: Wikipedia's novel article names Robert Sheckley's "The Prize of Peril" (1958) as the earlier televised-manhunt story and Yves Boisset's Le Prix du Danger (January 1983) as its French adaptation. Wikipedia does not carry the lawsuit; the account of Boisset suing the Running Man producers, losing on appeal, winning in cassation and being vindicated around 1996 after roughly eleven years with damages that barely covered costs comes from French film press — Blast and Courte Focale. I did not reach a court record; treat the procedural detail as reported rather than verified.
Citation occasions.
- CNN, 13 March 2026 — the NRSC's AI-fabricated video of James Talarico, and Mike Collins' fabricated video of Jon Ossoff.
- WCAX, 12 August 2026 — the NY-21 deepfake of Blake Gendebien and the New York election-law question.
- The Meta nudify-ad item of 18 August 2026 (Wired, reached via Techmeme), and the July 2026 precedent of regulators ordering the app stores to purge nudify apps and the CBS News investigation into nudify advertising on Meta's platforms — all three reached through this project's own digests, and cited here at the underlying sources rather than at the digests, which are output and therefore never evidence.
- Anthropic's text watermark, 14–15 August 2026, for the provenance apparatus arriving with its limits published by its maker.
- On Federal Rules of Evidence 707 and 901(c): the comment period closing 16 February 2026, both proposals held as study items at the Advisory Committee's May 2026 meeting, the December 2027 effective date "not on track," and the three improvising decisions (State v. Puloka, Matter of Weber, Kohls v. Ellison) — from practitioner summaries, principally Complete Legal, with the rule text and burden-shifting description corroborated by Womble Bond Dickinson. I did not read the Advisory Committee's agenda book or minutes; a reading that leans on the May 2026 outcome should.
- On the liar's dividend: the term is Bobby Chesney and Danielle Citron's; the Reffitt defence and the Tesla filing about Musk's recorded statements are recorded in the Brennan Center's treatment and the surrounding legal commentary.
- Washington Examiner, 11 December 2025 — the 4 December 2025 memo ordering an FBI cash reward system for domestic terrorism tips and the Digital Media Tipline revision for "citizen journalists," due early January 2026.
- On facial recognition in consumer eyewear: EPIC's 13 February 2026 letter to the FTC and EFF, June 2026 on Meta stripping the unactivated facial-recognition code after the seventy-five-organisation letter of April 2026.
Failed or unreachable. IMDb's plot and quotes pages returned 403; TV Tropes returned 403; the Stephen King wiki returned 402; SuperSummary returned 429; and on a second pass the transcript site declined to reproduce extended dialogue, which is why exactly one line of the film is quoted here. None of these gaps changes a claim above, but together they are the reason this entry carries a heavier "verify against the primary work" flag than most.