May the odds be ever in your favour.
Suzanne Collins’ bestselling trilogy of novels leapt onto the big screen in 2012, propelling the franchise to new heights amid a growing trend for young adult film franchises based on books (Twilight, Divergent, and Maze Runner to name a few). Largely faithful to their source material, these films paint a bleak picture of a dystopian post-U.S.A North America. Centered around one young woman and her harrowing experiences in an extreme version of Survivor, this series takes aim at the nature of media and entertainment in our society. Let the games begin.
The Hunger Games (***1/2)
In which people of the not-so-distant future have found a suitable distraction from TikTok
Gritty and unconventional, The Hunger Games invites us to think more about the stories we hear by telling us a compellingly scary one.
I’m pretty sure that I’d read the entire Hunger Games trilogy before watching the films, or at least the first novel. I remember really enjoying the authenticity of the movie and how closely it resembled the book it was based on. All of the major plot points from the book are there, and one of the things I appreciated most about the film was the way it helped me care more about Katniss. Katniss is very closed off and reserved, and Jennifer Lawrence’s performance captures this very well. At the same time, I found it really easy to understand and empathize with Katniss’s character, whereas it was a bit more difficult in the book. Perhaps it’s because I could never quite picture Katniss’s face, but getting to see the discomfort and genuine awkwardness that Lawrence portrayed helped me understand how much Katniss doesn’t want to be there. Everyone in the world of the movie thinks that Katniss is the kind of hero we’re used to seeing in filmmaking – brave, resourceful, and always jumping in to save people. The real Katniss isn’t like that – she’s constantly doing what she can to get out of the spotlight and away from the action. Her moments of heroism are mainly instinctual. When she thinks about what she’s going to do, it comes across as forced and awkward. But when she sticks up for Rue, kisses Peeta for the first time, or volunteers as tribute, she shines because they’re all moments based on instinct. It’s that aspect of her character that I think I developed a better understanding of in the film.
Despite the ‘realness’ of this film, there are definitely parts that strain credulity. I get that the bad guys are super-rich and technologically advanced, but are you telling me they have embedded cameras in every single tree in the arena? And that they can collapse any of the trees in any direction they want at a moment’s notice? And that the trees can spontaneously catch on fire or even shoot fireballs?! And how did the mutts come out of nowhere? There’s technological prowess, but what these guys are doing is positively godlike. I think I had to work a bit harder in these moments to suspend my disbelief than I would have liked.
I wanna get back to Rue for a minute, because I think she was one of the best parts of the whole flick. She was perfectly casted, for one thing. She was exactly the kind of person you’d never want anything bad to happen to whatsoever, and it made her final scene absolutely heartbreaking. It really emphasized the brutality of the games and sent our protagonist into further action. I understand that the filmmakers came under fire for casting Rue and Thresh as African Americans, but I don’t think the decision was a poor one. As far as the movie is concerned, the world of Panem is populated by all races just as much as our own is. Further, there are multiple races portrayed as rich and multiple displayed as poor. The decision to make these characters Black – in my opinion – doesn’t characterize them as worse off than anyone else, nor does it reduce them to stereotypes. I thought both of them did great.
The Hunger Games isn’t necessarily a must-see, but it’s an interesting look at the way television and media are crafted to send a message. It’s also neat to see a character pretend to be the kind of character we’re looking for when they’re actually very much not that person.
One last thing and then that’s it, I promise. Effie was an absolute delight. She’s ludicrous in every sense of the word, and she injects so much fun into a world that’s totally devoid of it. The movie would’ve really suffered without her.
Catching Fire (***)
In which a girl fakes a pregnancy to try getting time off
Catching Fire was my favourite book in the series, but as a film sequel it doesn’t do much to ignite excitement apart from keeping the train rolling.
Just like before, Catching Fire relies heavily on its source material – and that’s a relief for most book fans. We all hate it when a movie adaptation rips the best parts out of the novel. The scene where Peeta meets Capitol partygoers who drink special beverages to force them to throw up so they can eat more food hit just as hard onscreen as it did in the original book. I also loved Katniss’s Mockingjay dress that she wore to the interview. One of the best parts of a book series about teens fighting to the death, oddly enough, was reading about Katniss’s wardrobe. Collins created some really intriguing outfits, from the fire-starter in the original film to her rebel armor in the final book. I remember reading the books and wondering what those costumes would look like in real life, and these movies did that phenomenally.
Catching Fire leans into the theme of manipulating the masses with media through Katniss and Peeta’s first-act challenge of calming a potential rebellion. All of their actions had greater weight than they imagined, and everything they said (or didn’t say) was analyzed and re-analyzed by the people watching them. There were moments where our heroes were trapped by this reality, but the thrilling parts of the film were when they were able to use it to their advantage. Peeta announcing that Katniss was pregnant was so much fun to watch – partly because it was a lie, but also because it showed the power of an invested audience. Caesar Flickerman (who I did great injustice to by not mentioning him in my last review) had a wonderful return in this film, and a more intriguing role in the way that he wasn’t just a charismatic host but a member of the media trying to calm everyone down. I wish we’d had more of his commentary during the games like we did last time.
The one thing that I don’t love about this film is something that I talked about in my last review. Normally my complaints with a film have to do with the execution of a scene, poor writing, etcetera. It’s not that this film does any of that. What kind of keeps me from loving this film more, though, is the way that Katniss’s hands are tied for so much of the story. It’s a very deliberate choice on the part of the producers, and I can’t say that it was the wrong choice because it’s the very theme that they’re going for. Katniss is a girl who is 100% trapped. The whole movie, she’s playing someone else’s game: first in trying to quell dissent by the order of President Snow, and then in playing the Hunger Games again. The sprinkles of rebellion never quite get her out from under someone’s thumb – and as the next film will show, even the destruction of the Hunger Games doesn’t allow Katniss her freedom. She spends so much of this franchise as a pawn, subtly and occasionally wriggling out of her place for moments at a time. The franchise is about those moments, but the fact that they’re so few and far between means that the real movers or catalysts for action are not our protagonist. For example, when Katniss finds out that there was a secret plan to rescue her, we understand that there was a whole group of rebels meeting, plotting, and then executing a plan without us totally understanding. That would have been really cool to watch, but instead we had to watch from Katniss’s perspective – and she didn’t really get it until someone told her. It’s not that Katniss isn’t a good character. It’s just that the action is so often happening to her instead of being generated by her. She inspires others to act, but is so rarely able to herself. I know that’s kind of the point of these films, but the trade off is that we’re left with a largely handcuffed protagonist.
This film ended the same way the book did, which is to say that the credits roll on a cliffhanger. As such, it’s difficult to judge this film on its own merit – seeing as it leaves its own resolution to other movies. Sure, Katniss got out of the Hunger Games, but she did so in a way that left us with so many more questions than answers. As a chapter in The Hunger Games franchise, it moves us into the final act as well as its source material did. But as an individual film, Catching Fire suffers a similar fate as its protagonist – it’s a chapter that can’t flourish amidst the chains that link it to the other films.
Mockingjay: Part 1 (***1/2)
In which a book the same length as the last two suddenly needs to be split in half
Katniss has escaped President Snow, but the Games are far from over as the war for Panem begins.
Like I mentioned in my review of the last film, Katniss finds out very quickly in this chapter that life out of the Capitol’s reach isn’t all that different. There’s a new leader in town who – under the advisement of Plutarch Heavensbee – is determined to use Katniss for her own purposes. Even though Katniss is fighting for the good guys now, she’s still doing the same thing she was doing before – putting on a show. This a franchise that doesn’t have much in the way of laughs, but the scene where Katniss is trying to film propaganda in front of a green screen is one of the funniest overall. Jennifer Lawrence does a great job acting like a character who doesn’t know how to act.
Once again, this franchise reminds us that perception is reality. We, the audience, know the true story of Katniss, Peeta, and all the characters in Panem. But most in Panem who know Katniss only know the version of her that they’ve seen through a screen. Katniss has resisted being a part of the system throughout this story, but she’s having to embrace it now more than ever in order to take Snow down. The truth doesn’t particularly matter to the media here – what matters is telling a good story and telling it convincingly. And if that means putting Katniss in a room of people who are going to die because of her, then so be it.
I can’t remember my opinion from when I first saw this in theatres, but the fact that this film ended on a cliffhanger felt a little frustrating this time around. We’ve already had to sit through one of those in this franchise, and now it’s beginning to feel like they’re stretching the story out just to make us buy another movie ticket. Yes, the Part 1 and Part 2 gimmick has been used many times – even by franchises I love – but to go from one cliffhanger to another one makes the series feel more episodic – almost like it should’ve been a TV show.
This wasn’t bad at all, but right now I didn’t find anything truly remarkable or recommendable about this movie. It brought us one step closer to Katniss’ inevitable confrontation with Snow, and we’re finally only one movie ticket away from making that happen.
Mockingjay: Part 2 (***1/2)
In which Katniss could've saved Finnick's life if she'd just chilled at home
While successful as a conclusion and just as competent as any of its predecessors, the final chapter of the Hunger Games franchise has made it clear to me what I think really held Katniss back for so long – an obsession with traps instead of character development.
I’ve had a hard time up until putting my finger on what it was that didn’t excite me while re-watching this series for the first time in years. I watched all the films in theatres, read the books, re-watched the series at least once with my wife, and I even read the prequel book that came out last year. But as the credits began to roll for this final entry, I realized that my real problem with this franchise started all the way back at the very first film. I wrote in my review of the original Hunger Games that the Gamemakers seemed absolutely godlike. Many of the districts were living in poverty, but the Capitol had enough money to design an entire arena where any tree could catch fire on command and genetically engineered monsters could literally poof up out of the ground. The economic gap wasn’t what bothered me – it was how advanced and elaborate the Hunger Games traps were. They just seemed to be on a whole other level than anything else we saw in the world of Panem.
I’m all for characters risking life and limb. The problem is that the traps both strain credulity and always feel forced. When a character is stranded on a desert island or is on a quest to get through a dark forest, the danger feels real because all of the dangers are practical – starvation, wild animals, etc.. On the other hand, a character face-to-face with a monster or a villain can also be exciting – either because the monster is scary or because the villain so directly opposes the worldview and goals of our protagonist. There are moments – particularly in the first film – where Katniss faces natural threats like the ones I’ve listed. There’s a real tension when she’s running away from the other tributes, because they’re real, believable characters who believably want her dead. But in this film when a ball of flame the size of a house leaps out of nowhere to try and fry Katniss and her friends, the sense of danger is comparatively non-existent. Obviously a flame of that size is more dangerous than a few kids with swords, but any audience member with an understanding of narrative would know that Katniss will not be killed by a trap. It’s an empty threat because it’s an emotionless one. When Peeta is attacking her at the end of the last film, we know she won’t die because she’s the hero. But the scene hits hard all the same because of its emotional significance. Peeta has been poisoned, and he’s totally flipped from the way he was when we last saw him. That’s what makes the scene work – not the physical danger, but the character change. It’s the same thing with the kids with swords. We know Katniss won’t get killed by a minor character, but they’re scary all the same because they seem to have a twisted desire to not only kill Katniss but to harm her. There’s a humanity to the evil, and that’s what makes it work. The machine guns, black tar, balls of flame, and other traps in this film are all nothing more than traps that we know our hero will evade. And because they’re not human, they’re not scary. The zombie creatures that we encounter in the tunnels of this film are probably the scariest part, but what makes them scary is how humanoid they appear. Take, for example, the baboons from Catching Fire. I didn’t feel an ounce of emotion when they came charging at our characters. But humans that have been modified to have razor sharp teeth and no eyes? Yeah – that’s spooky. And I think it’s this element of disengaged danger that has held the franchise back for me.
I’ve been more or less on a tangent, so let me speak directly to this film for a moment. Katniss’s journey is almost irrelevant in this movie. She tries to go off to kill President Snow, and in the process she loses a lot of good people. Finnick had just gotten married, and now he’s dead. If Katniss hadn’t gone off on this quest, he’d still be alive. Worse, his death is in vain because Katniss didn’t actually accomplish her goal. She never made it to Snow to kill him until the rebels had already done it. If Katniss had just sat in her cot for a few days, she would’ve ended up in the exact same place. That’s not a good place to put your protagonist. All the same, the final act where she came to decisions about Gale, Snow, and Coin was good. What made this part great was that she was finally able to make her own decisions, which is something that’s held her down for so much of this franchise.
I feel like I enjoyed these films more in the past than I do now. It’s not to say that they’re bad films – if anything, they’re impressive in the sense that their quality remains consistent all the way through. I just have some narrative complaints – and even so, I can’t ignore the excellence in this franchise’s execution. This was a thought-provoking series and a consistent journey, which is more than many film trilogies and the like can say. Goodbye, Katniss.
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