Movie Review: Catching Fire

First let's clear up one thing:  I did not cry during this film.  Okay, I didn't cry a lot.  Okay fine, I at least didn't cry quite as much as the young woman behind me, who from the sound of things was in tears from beginning to end.  I'm not sure even she understood why she was having this reaction, but I can say that I don't blame her a bit.

That's just the kind of movie Catching Fire is--it takes your emotions and tugs them up through your throat, wraps them around your neck, and then asks you to try and breathe through the choke-hold.  This review is itself being delayed for several hours after my initial viewing because I needed that time to process everything I thought about during and after this film, and to figure out how to best put it into words.

With a new director at the helm, Catching Fire could easily have felt choppy or jarringly desperate to stand out from its predecessor (think Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban), but it just didn't.  Francis Lawrence understands the importance of maintaining and escalating the unique tone of the first movie, and his vision is executed beautifully onscreen without feeling like too sharp a departure from the universe established for us in The Hunger Games.  Improvements were made in the few places they were needed, and while a few tidbits from the book were omitted, the film was admirably and almost completely true to its source material.  The few instances where creative license is taken with scenes or characters feel organic and fit smoothly into the existing plot, and I find myself hard-pressed to think of one that ought to have been changed.

If memory serves I said this about the first film, but it feels doubly true now:  looking at the directors, the screenwriters, the performers, I can't find a weak link in the bunch.  It's almost as though they've all conspired to turn in some of the best work of their careers in the name of making this movie a success.  I fully expected Jennifer Lawrence to be brilliant, as she so reliably is.  What I didn't expect was for Jena Malone and Sam Claflin to so skillfully embody their fan-favorite characters.  What I didn't expect was for Phillip Seymour-Hoffman to portray an intriguing new gamemaker with a cleverness I haven't seen since Alan Rickman humanized Severus Snape on the big screen.  I didn't expect (though I hoped) that Josh Hutcherson and Liam Hemsworth would overcome the heartthrob status assigned to them and bring better performances than anticipated, showing that though neither of them will ever outshine J-Law, they are at least entitled to play on the same field.  Further praise goes deservedly to Elizabeth Banks, Woody Harrelson, and Donald Sutherland for preventing their characters from becoming caricatures, and for bringing some of the most punch-in-the-gut emotional moments of the film.

When I initially read the book series back in late 2010, devouring all three within a week's time, I viewed Catching Fire as a hinge, a bridge between the initial horrors of The Hunger Games and the roaring conclusion of Mockingjay.  Seeing the film, however, helped me appreciate the tight narrative it is in its own right.  Catching Fire provides the most character development of the three novels, and the film fully rises to that task.  One can seen the tone, as well as Katniss herself, travel from fear to anger to violence, inciting the revolution that will make or break the districts of Panem.  Francis Lawrence has depicted it just about flawlessly, and the intensity of the film's proverbial call to action makes the audience want to join the rebellion themselves, or at the very least set some shit on fire.

As with many great films, there are a number of little things that really enhance the experience, making the film stand out not just as good, but great.  Catching Fire incorporates the musical score from the previous film, using familiar refrains as callbacks to critical events which unfolded in The Hunger Games.  It is also careful to re-establish certain visual elements as important, so that we feel re-immersed in Katniss' world rather than like we're being introduced to something brand new.  The pacing is fairly remarkable as well-- this film approaches the 2.5 hour mark, and yet it feels smooth and free of those restless moments in which most viewers might feel tempted to check the time.

It is also worth noting just how well this film serves as the middle piece of the puzzle:  it hearkens back to The Hunger Games without tediously recapping, and it foreshadows what is to come without forgetting itself as a standalone plot.  The final scenes do feel ever so slightly rushed (one of my few complaints about the film) but in them we get a very clear preview of what to expect in Mockingjay, which rumor has it will be split into two parts.  Questions of staggering significance lay on the table unanswered, and Katniss herself is in a state of visible turmoil, both anxious and afraid but also enraged and thirsting for revenge.  Moviegoers will leave the theater feeling similarly, and eagerly awaiting the final installment.

Movie Review: The Hunger Games

This is one of the better book-to-film adaptations I’ve seen in a long time, maybe one of my favorite ever, mostly because of the way the material is tackled.  The writers who worked on this film (including author of the books Suzanne Collins, something I think really makes a difference) managed a true feat:  staying true to the spirit of the book (and a surprising volume of the details) without appearing slavish to any kind of verbatim re-creation.  Sure, some of the oft-quoted lines were taken out or edited, but that really didn’t matter in the scheme of things, because The Hunger Games film functions as more than a repetition of Collins’ novel—there is a very real, and very terrifying, message embedded in the film about our own culture, and a haunting quality that stems from the question of how far we really are as a society from an invention like the Hunger Games.

One of the virtues of the novel, and one that was cited early on, is its cinematic potential.  In many ways The Hunger Games book unfolds like a film, with a steadily rolling pace and imagery that stands to be even more fully realized on the screen.  No adaptation is without its challenges, however, and a concern of mine (and of many others) was whether it would be possible to really convey the parts of the story taking place almost entirely in Katniss’ head, particularly the nuances of her feelings and motivations during several significant moments.  First-person narration itself is always a difficult thing to translate to film, and yet the writers manage it with relatively few bumps in the road.  Of course, those of us who worried Katniss might be somehow misrepresented or flattened on the silver screen clearly underestimated the considerable talents of Jennifer Lawrence.  As someone who re-read the novel very recently, having it as a supplement to her performance was far less necessary than I’d assumed it would be; she plays the role with a palpable commitment and disappears almost entirely into the character, far exceeding my already high expectations.

And Lawrence certainly doesn’t give the only impressive performance.  The cast, which sounded somewhat dubious on paper when I first read about it, works surprisingly well both together and individually.  Stanley Tucci is fantastic in a role he seems born to play, as charismatic Games personality Caesar Flickerman; Woody Harrelson balances cynicism and comic relief as Katniss and Peeta’s “mentor” Haymitch; and Elizabeth Banks is unrecognizable (in a good way) as Effie Trinket.  Additionally, who knew Lenny Kravitz could act?  This was the casting decision that seemed the most illogical to me, yet somehow his performance as Cinna was easily one of my favorites.  As for the lead trio, while they certainly manage to keep pace with their adult counterparts, it’s hard to not feel a little bad for Josh Hutcherson (Peeta) and Liam Hemsworth (Gale), neither of whom can really hope to compete with Lawrence talent-wise (though Hutcherson improves drastically as the film progresses), although I’m sure their newfound status as international heartthrobs (seriously, you should see some of the stuff on the interwebs about these two) will provide some comfort.

This film also manages some impressive character work, which is an accomplishment with such a large cast and a vast scope of events to cover in 2.5 hours.  I like that we see some unexpectedly humanizing moments from a few surprising sources, most notably some of those characters who in the book are cast simply as one-dimensional villains.  There is a great moment about a minute into the Hunger Games carnage (and man, can we just appreciate for a second that the brutality was toned down in the interest of ratings?), when Katniss finds herself face to face with another competitor at the edge of the woods.  Both girls just kind of stare at each other for a few seconds, both of them knowing they’re “supposed” to take advantage of the opportunity and attempt to slaughter each other, but neither is able to bring herself to do it just yet.  They wind up running off their separate ways, and though the other girl later dies without much fanfare, it is interesting to see the internal struggle Katniss is enduring mirrored in the face of a character we’re supposed to be rooting against.  There’s also an interesting moment (and one that is an invention of the film) with Cato, who throughout the film is the overwhelmingly brutish, violent competitor who can’t seem to wait to get into the arena and begin slaughtering his fellow tributes.  He and Peeta have a struggle, and he goads Katniss to simply shoot them both, as he is fatally wounded already.  He then makes a few remarks to the effect that his life has been wasted in preparation for this moment, and there, blood hemorrhaging from his mouth, he looks just as devastatingly human as Katniss or Peeta.  In the novel it’s easy to dismiss him as deserving to die (and yeah, he is responsible for a whole mess of other deaths), but including this moment in the film further drives home the idea that even in such a straightforward game, there really is nothing completely black and white.

Of course, one of the necessary virtues of a great book-to-film adaptation is the latter’s ability to present key scenes “exactly how you imagined it” with that little pinch of movie magic to take it to the next level.  Several of these instances stand out for me in the film, the first of which is the way the character of Rue and her encounters with Katniss are handled.  I’ve read complaints that some viewers felt short-changed by the amount of time spent focusing on this, but I think given the time constraints the filmmakers capture the essence of these scenes perfectly.  Rue’s death and Katniss’ subsequent renewed determination comprise a turning point in the novel, and the same is true of the film.  The reaping is another scene that truly came across how I pictured it when reading.  The tension and the silent salute from District 12 when Katniss walks onto the stage is captured perfectly, as is the entire grim atmosphere of the event.  But probably my favorite among these is the climactic moment when the rules of the game are changed for the second time, forcing Katniss and Peeta to the realization that they now have to try and kill each other after spending days working as a team.  The plan with the berries is perfectly executed, and the moment right before they plunge into mutually assured destruction is a more powerful representation of their relationship than any prior kissing or cuddling (or cheesy lines)—Peeta’s face especially is just heartbreaking; but perhaps the best thing about this moment is that, despite knowing exactly what was going to happen, I was right on the edge of my seat.

In what is probably my favorite alteration from the text, the film allows us much more insight into what’s going on outside of the arena, particularly from the viewpoint of the “gamemaker” who dictates pretty much everything that happens to the kids thrown into the fight-to-the-death tournament.  This adds a layer to the narration that simply couldn’t be provided via Katniss’ first-person narration in the novel, showing us rather than telling us why the Games have become such an integral part of Panem’s culture and exactly who the real puppet masters are.  The film’s political aspect is also both intriguing and disturbing:  we get to see the reactions in the “outlying” districts (translation: the resource-rich but financially plagued ones) to events going on in the Games, and the escalating rumblings of unrest (those will become very important in the next two films).  What this also achieves, and this is something I found myself pondering as the credits rolled, is breaking down that last degree of removal from the story that we as moviegoers often feel.  Let me try to clarify:  when we watch a film about something particularly disastrous or upsetting, our many psychological protective measures kick in, reminding us that it’s just a story, it’s fiction and has nothing to do with us.  But The Hunger Games shoves its reality in the viewer’s face, not in a preachy or over-the-top way, but subtly:  you see the vapid audience in the Capitol, watching the Games and eating up every carefully scripted development, and it’s not a far leap to think of the audience at an American Idol finale or the SuperBowl.  It’s not a far leap at all to consider our society’s always-increasing desensitization when it comes to violence or the exploitation of other people’s misery, and to think about whether some future incarnation of us (and maybe one not terribly far down the road) actually might thirst so rabidly for a fresh form of entertainment that something like the Hunger Games would slip from that comforting realm of Complete Fiction and into our reality. 

I could probably say a few dozen more things about this film (like spotlighting the skillful foreshadowing of what’s to come in the next two films, or my short list of minor complaints, or talking about the musical score), but this review doesn’t need to be any longer than it already is.  Suffice it to say I think this is a film that achieves something not many book adaptations (and certainly even fewer young adult adaptations) do, which is presenting a film that works not only as a faithful interpretation of its source material, but as a well-crafted film with a message that is, at times, eerily relevant.

Book Review: Mockingjay

I have to say, this is probably my favorite of the three novels.  Sure, I went in with some very specific expectations (for instance, I was sure Peeta would be dead before the final pages), and though Mockingjay subverted almost all of the things I thought were coming, it more than compensated for the disappointment of being wrong.

I've heard a lot of grumblings from readers who feel that this book was a letdown, that it didn't end the way they hoped and expected, and from the first pages I was determined to figure out why.  The prose of Mockingjay is better than that of Catching Fire right off the bat-- it isn't bogged down by recapping what happened or by re-outlining the dynamics between characters.  Instead, it does what any final book in a series should do, jumping right into the action and expecting readers to be fully apprised of the situation.

What sets Mockingjay apart from its two predecessors is that it's much more of a war-time kind of novel.  By that I mean events have conspired and collapsed in such a way that the characters have no choice but to prepare for, and agonize over, the impending and unavoidable battle for Panem.   I think if you aren't the type to enjoy scene after scene of drawn out, tension-filled action, then you might not be able to stomach the majority of the book's middle, part of which has us literally following Katniss and company on a seemingly doomed trek across the capitol, but the payoff is every bit as dramatic and emotional as one could hope.


[SPOILER ALERT, if you hadn't figured it out already]

I have to say, I was shocked by the choice to kill off not Peeta, not even Gale, but Prim.  I was shocked for about ten seconds before realizing that not only had it been in the making since the first novel, it was necessary to nearly all the characters involved.  That's not to say her death, the sheer brutality of it and Katniss' almost catatonic grief, wasn't absolutely awful, but from a writing standpoint it amplifies Prim's significance and pushes the story to an end it might not have otherwise reached.

Prim's presence in the first two novels is almost exclusively in mentions and reminiscinces from Katniss, which relegates her to the role of supporting player.  Yes, she is the impetus that pushes Katniss into volunteering for the Hunger Games, but we don't get to know her as a person quite as well as we'd like.  Prim, in both her short life and her death, is a symbol of the lost innocence (because, you know, the pile of corpses racked up in the annual fight-to-the-death tournament isn't metaphor enough) of this post-post-modern world.  She's not just someone who becomes a casualty of the barbarians in charge of Panem; she's someone we know, someone who has and would never hurt a fly, and someone the main character loves with absolutely no conditions.  It is this third reason that illuminates why Prim has to be the one to die to push Katniss to the edge; if Peeta died she might have settled for finding solace in Gale or numbed her grief with the memory of his anger toward her in this book; if it had been Gale, something similar in the reverse might have happened.  Katniss loses the one person she has always loved more than anyone else, and it is this which allows her to emerge as the heroine she's been training to become.

Oh, and there's also an epilogue that rivals Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows for cheesiness (though this one is mercifully shorter), which reveals that Katniss ends up with Peeta.  I predicted this all the way back in book one, but it's nice to be proven correct.  What makes the presence of this epilogue tolerable, though, is the fact that after all Katniss (and we, the readers who've followed her journey) has been through, it just doesn't matter that much which suitor she chooses.  Gale, who in my opinion was never really a contender, falls off her radar due to his possible hand in what happened to Prim, and Peeta happens to be there to try and pick up the pieces.  Though the epilogue might make fans who've been "shipping" this romance all along cheer, for me (and for Katniss, I think), it's a bit sad.  Yes, she's got a family and no, they aren't in the immediate danger she faced growing up, but the price paid was so high it's hard to really enjoy it.

I realize I've left out a considerable chunk of the plot from the book's middle in this review, and that's honestly because for me it doesn't race along in the same exciting, tightly paced way the previous two stories did.  In reading Mockingjay I was primarily interested in how Suzanne Collins would take this tale, with so many loose ends and moving parts at book two's end, and conclude the series in a way that was satisfactory.  I think for me it all hinges on what happens with Prim, and like Katniss I find that much of the rest of it grows hazy by story's end.

Book Review: Catching Fire

This is probably my least favorite of the three Hunger Games novels, but even so it weaves a pretty good tale.  Catching Fire picks up a few weeks after the first book left off, on the brink of Katniss and Peeta's victory tour.  They must go into all 12 districts and play the hero and heroine, while also continuing to pretend they are in love, while also walking a fine line between caution and defiance.  After all, they wouldn't want to start a revolution, would they?

My problem with this book, and it's really only an issue for the first third or so of the narrative, is that Suzanne Collins spends way too much time reminding us exactly what happened in the previous book.  Katniss' reminiscing doesn't feel organic to the plot, it feels forced, with the information dropped in awkwardly, telling us about events that, so long as we actually read the first book, I don't think any of us have forgotten during the intervening time.  She also re-outlines the supposed love triangle with Peeta, Gale, and Katniss, clearly intending to beat it into our skulls as a significant plot point.  However, I just don't feel that Gale was ever present enough (physically or emotionally for Katniss) in the first novel to really feel like a contender when Catching Fire begins.  And yes, Katniss continues to insist that she doesn't really love Peeta, that it's all for show, but I think it's clear to the reader that parts of it are real, even if it isn't clear to the characters yet.  I think this book (and the series as a whole) could have easily done without the love triangle plot, because for me I never considered it a triangle at all.  Katniss loves Gale, certainly, but not in the way she thinks, the way she maybe thinks she should, given that they've known each other so long and have always had each other's backs.  Even in her most torn moments, her supposed desire for Gale feels like something she's forcing herself to believe in, rather than something she actually, ultimately feels.  And I think this book could have been every bit as intriguing and impactful if this plot line simply consisted of Katniss trying to sift through her feelings toward Peeta, with Gale firmly cemented as the friend and compatriot that he is.

Just in case you've gotten lost in perhaps too much analysis of a love story between teenagers, there is an actual plot taking place amid all the feelings, and a complex one at that.  President Snow, the current ruler of Panem, believes that Katniss' actions at the end of the Hunger Games tournament were intended as a rebellion, intended to spark a revolution.  And indeed murmurings of revolution follow Katniss and company wherever they go, almost regardless of what she does to try and suppress them.  What's more is the rebels are using Katniss as a representative, a symbol of their building revolution.  The government struggles to keep Katniss from fueling the flames, and eventually come up with a solution:  another Hunger Games, this one consisting solely of previous competitors.  Given that Katniss and Peeta are 2 of the 3 victors from District 12, they face the inevitable horror of reliving their experience all over again.

Katniss has one objective in the arena this time around, and it isn't her survival, it's Peeta's.  She knows that she will be killed, that she is not the right person to give a voice to the growing rebellion in the districts, but Peeta has a quality about him, a sense of what to do and say, that will make him an impressive leader.  The second tournament is deliberately more terrifying than the first, and the stakes are steeply increased by Katniss' need to preserve Peeta's life.  In the midst of peril coming literally from all sides, thing are turned upside down by a series of unexpected twists that result in Peeta's capture by the government and the beginnings of all-out revolution in the districts.

This book, especially compared with its predecessor and successor, definitely takes time to find its bearings, but when it does, really gives the reader a sense of the urgency and the danger of what is and what might be happening.  There are few characters who can be trusted beyond the shadow of a doubt, and neither Katniss nor the reader can discern which ones they might be, if there are any at all.  If the first Hunger Games book wasn't enough to persuade you that this is story is hardly kids' stuff, Catching Fire surely will.  With all the lives at stake and all the potential for disaster at every turn, it can be nearly impossible at times to believe that the outcome rests almost entirely on the shoulders of a few teenagers.  The second installment in the series provides a strong hinge between the build of the first novel and the impending conclusion of the third, leaving you ready to see how it all will end.

Book Review: The Hunger Games

Yes, I'm late to jump on the bandwagon.  I concede that much.  In my defense, however, I've been burned in the past when it comes to YA book recommendations.  Back in 2008, several once-reliable sources directed me to a book series by one Ms. Stephanie Meyer, insisting that these books were "the next Harry Potter."  I shouldn't have believed them, but I was young and naive and, in due course, sorely disappointed by the trite and often misogynistic prose of the Twilight books.  I promised myself it wouldn't happen again; I wouldn't take it on faith that any adventure/fantasy series could even begin to compete with the likes of HP and LOTR.  So when many of the same sources began crowing about how fantastic the Hunger Games series was, I was reluctant.  I protested and ignored it for as long as I could, even after seeing a pretty epic trailer for the first film adaptation.  But alas, I was in need of books to fill my 2012 reading list (I'm currently 6 books deep on my quest to finish 100 before year's end), and these three novels seemed like they'd make for a pretty quick read.  I was hardly expecting to be impressed by their depth and excitement, or to have my heartstrings tugged the way they ultimately were.  I am happy to say I was proven wrong.

The Hunger Games, as most people probably realize, is the first novel of the series.  I went in with low expectations:  all this book needed to do was hook me, and maintain a pace that allowed me to forget that it was written for a target audience much younger than myself.  Fortunately, it does this and more, introducing us to Katniss Everdeen and a cast of the critical people in her life without feeling too introduction-y.  We meet her family as well as her best friend Gale, who from their first exchange exudes a kind of rebellious spirit that Katniss admires.  As we follow Katniss through her day we are given snapshots of Panem, the futuristic incarnation of America, which is war-torn and extremely oppressive.  We also learn that perhaps the state's cruelest tradition, the annual Hunger Games, is about to take place.  Two representatives, a boy and a girl, from each of the 12 districts, will be selected to fight to the death in a tournament designed solely for the entertainment of the prosperous masses.  We are told that the odds of someone getting picked for the games increase with age and several other factors, and thus it is a complete surprise when Katniss' sister, Prim, is selected for the games, despite supposedly having the lowest odds of selection.  It is, of course, no surprise, that Katniss immediately volunteers to replace her.

As the preparations for the Games revs up, we meet Peeta, Katniss' fellow representative.  He comes across as clean-cut and kind, if a little wimpy.  Oh, and by the way, he's apparently got a thing for Katniss.  That might complicate the whole "having to kill one another" thing just a little bit.

I won't give away the details of how the tournament goes, mostly because a secondhand narration of them couldn't possibly compete with the urgency and pacing of watching it unfold on the page.  Katniss definitely carves out a firm place as a kick-ass heroine, as well as furthering a streak of self-sacrifice and courage that will remain a crucial thread throughout all three books. 

I think this book could have easily succeeded solely as a character piece, investing us the way it does in the lives of Katniss and the various other citizens of Panem.  It would be enough to want to know how the tournament will end, how Katniss' psyche will be affected, and indeed, where her romantic entanglements will lead her.  What Suzanne Collins has managed to accomplish, however, is painting a fully-realized, three-dimensional world that is almost a character of its own.  It is a testament to her skill that it is not tedious to read about the districts of Panem or the way their politics have evolved since the "Dark Days", but both intriguing and necessary to raise the already high stakes.

The Hunger Games could easily stand on its own, as the story wraps up tidily enough, but so much detail and emotional investment has been poured into this installment that it is impossible to not want the remaining loose threads tied up.  Fortunately, we have two more books to see the fallout of an unexpected victory in the tournament, and its inevitable impact on the future of both the characters and the horror-state in which they live.

I recommend this book not only as a satisfying quick read, but as an intriguing concept that gives the reader a lot to think about, long after the last pages have been read.  I'm also intrigued to see how it translates to film this coming March-- it certainly reads with a certain cinematic feel that makes an adaptation for the screen seem like a very natural step.