‘The Runarounds’ (2025) Prime Video Series Review - For the Love of Music

"The Runarounds" is a series made for the dreamers — dreamers who are ambitious enough to pursue their aspirations. Charlie (William Lipton), Topher (Jeremy Yun), Neil (Axel Ellis), Bez (Zendé Murdock), and Wyatt (Jesse Golliher) want fame, glory, and success, and they know that to climb a mountain, they need to put in a lot of work. Music binds them together; it keeps them from falling apart. Well, Charlie deserves some credit too, since he fights tooth and nail to keep his band together. He is convinced—almost certain—that by the end of the summer, their band, The Runarounds, will be famous. Charlie believes they will attract a large following and secure contracts with major music labels. Where does this confidence stem from? Charlie and his friends have immense faith in their talent. No one doubts their abilities; no one considers themselves an amateur. Even when a well-known talent scout dismisses them, they don't throw down their musical instruments to cry their eyes out. The Runarounds give little time to self-pity and more to their practice sessions. It helps that they become like best friends — even like family — to each other. When someone's mother goes through a medical problem, the other boys come together to help her. When a band member is kicked out of their house, one of the boys offers him shelter. No wonder a character chooses to remain with The Runarounds when he could have accepted a lucrative offer.

That decision does not sit well with the character's father. He scolds him for ruining his future. This fatherly anger comes from a place of experience — the father himself has navigated the music industry for roughly 20 to 30 years. If that's the case, shouldn't there be deeper conversations between father and son about music — its technicalities and its romance? Why didn't "The Runarounds" make time for them? Those moments could have made the father-son conflict much richer. Of course, you can always turn your gaze toward the personal lives of other characters for some familial friction. Charlie's parents want him to go to college, but Charlie, obviously, isn't interested. They're also facing a significant financial crisis, and his mother is hiding a secret. Topher's parents want him to become a lawyer and aren't very supportive of his musical ambitions (they think it's just a fad). Wyatt's mother shows no maternal affection; in fact, she throws him out of the house when he fails to pay rent. And poor Sophia has an alcoholic father. Sophia also has a thing for Charlie, but they're caught in one of those predictable on-and-off relationships. Her mother is dead, which becomes a source of vexing "I'm about to cry and walk out of the scene" drama. It works when Charlie plagiarizes words from her diary (she eventually helps Charlie with lyrics, and this relationship then reminds you of Mohit Suri's Saiyaara), but most of the time, it feels like a shortcut for generating conflict. Take the incident at the Kill Devil Ballroom, for instance. Charlie pulls a stunt that leaves a bad taste in your mouth — because it's just... stupid. It also doesn't make much sense. Worst of all, the show could have reached the same ending without it. You feel frustrated, all right, not with Charlie, but with the writers.

The tension between the personal and the professional, passion and finances, and the secure 9-to-5 future versus the risk of chasing artistic aspirations fuels the drama in "The Runarounds." The band members sacrifice college and internships for music. They go all in. Near the beginning of the first episode, Charlie comments that there should be Plan A, but not Plan B (Plan B implies you are not fully committed to your dreams). The eight episodes of "The Runarounds" basically prove Charlie right. This fully committed man inspires, encourages, pushes the other performers to devote themselves to their shared objective. Charlie's love for music is stronger than whatever's present between Sophia and Charlie. This is another reason why that "stunt" feels unconvincing. The show has real dramatic bite, and I liked how it avoids cheap melodramatic tactics. From the perspective of the adults, "The Runarounds" could have been sad and weepy. But by filtering the story through the eyes of the teens, "The Runarounds" moves energetically, vibrantly, exuberantly. Of course, all that drama eventually fizzles out near the finish line. A son leaves his parents' house (don't they try to contact him?), and a mother moves away without telling her child (she never appears again in the series). The psychological effects of these actions, however, remain unexplored, as the show quickly moves on to the next band performance or the next strife. Perhaps "The Runarounds" is saving these threads for a second season — though that doesn't excuse the lingering sense of toothlessness it leaves behind.

The Runarounds is a real band, and its members are musicians in real life. They have actually written and performed songs for the series. Does "The Runarounds" contain seeds of truth from the actors' own lives? I don't know. What I do know is that the show celebrates how relentlessly artists chase fame, perfection, and money. Charlie and his friends are real artists. They don't easily give up, even when things don't look very promising. Their goal is to become popular, professional musicians before the summer is over. Until then, they pound the drums and strum their guitars with all the enthusiasm they can muster. When the band performs, the camera observes them with verve and excitement. There's a rhythmic energy that flows between the performers, the on-screen audience, and the viewer watching the series. The song sequences are thrilling, engaging, even frisky — they take you on a high. Because "The Runarounds" involves us in the band's artistic process — showing their routines and making room for impromptu fixes, such as recovering from a wrong note — the musical performances feel intimate, special, and all-encompassing. On top of this, the fresh, young faces of the actors render their characters' desires naive, raw, and surprisingly palpable, almost spellbinding. You don't find it difficult to root for them. Hell, you sometimes even feel a bit protective towards them. "The Runarounds" captures the innocence and the madness of the youth. In that respect, it's almost like A.K. Vinod's Moonwalk. The show also captures the male leads like rock stars and presents itself as a promotional vehicle for the real-life band members. Forget Pete (Maximo Salas) or Amanda (Kelley Pereira); Jonas Pate, the creator of this series, proves himself to be the band's best manager. He's like Izzy (Emme Sibulkin), an employee who works at a major label: a diehard fan who believes The Runarounds have immense talent. Is Pate right? Watch the show and decide for yourself.

Final Score- [6.5/10]
Reviewed by - Vikas Yadav
Follow @vikasonorous on Twitter
Publisher at Midgard Times