|
 As
a title, "The Hunger Games" holds a twofold meaning. In the futuristic dystopian
society in which the story is set, the United States has been broken up into
twelve districts, all of them controlled under the iron thumb of the
exorbitantly wealthy, undeniably dictatorial city known as The Capitol. Every
year, the names of all the children, ages twelve to eighteen, are put into a
lottery, a single boy and girl from each district called upon to fight in a
deadly competition where only one survivor shall remain by the end. This victor
and their immediate relations will be set for life; the other twenty-three
families are left to mourn their deceased son or daughter. Naturally, the
players have a hunger to win no matter the cost, but they also are genuinely
famished, food and water tough commodities to come by during a game where they
are let loose in a patch of wilderness and, save for the occasional backpack of
supplies or gift from one of their sponsors, left to fend for themselves for the
duration. The common people's lack of resources, particularly when it comes to
sustenance, is a huge part of why the Capitol can so easily control the
districts, and it's the one crucial element that has been most grievously
overlooked in the path from novel to motion picture.
As adaptations go, "The Hunger Games" is generally faithful, decidedly
auspicious, and ultimately streamlined to appease the Hollywood gods who would
prefer to see dollar signs rather than a truthful telling of Suzanne Collins'
tome, the first in a best-selling trilogy. Its PG-13 rating has required a fair
share of watering down what is, violence-wise alone, an R-rated book, but
there's less of an excuse when it comes to overlooking the very conflicts of the
games themselves. The constant struggle for not only food and water, but also
the harsh elements of weather and temperature, have been taken out of the
equation. The characters look well-fed at all times when they should be
malnourished, not even the barest hint of cracked lips depicting their
dehydration. It is unrealistic, to be sure, but also strips the second half,
especially, of its texture, its development, and its ever heightening stakes.
Under the guidance of writer-director Gary Ross (2003's "Seabiscuit") and
co-writers Billy Ray (2009's "State of Play") and Collins herself, the title no
longer has much point.
Playing the resourceful, no-nonsense 16-year-old protagonist Katniss Everdeen,
Jennifer Lawrence (2011's "X-Men:
First Class") doesn't have the luxury of the source material's ongoing
first-person narration, but she's such a complex and expressive actress that she
rarely needs it, anyway. Living in the lowly mining community of District 12,
she spends her days hunting with 18-year-old best friend Gale (Liam Hemsworth)
and bartering for food to provide for herself, her widowed mother (Paula
Malcomson), and delicate 12-year-old sister Prim (Willow Shields). On the day of
the so-called Reaping, Katniss is horrified when Prim's name is drawn and,
knowing that she would never make it in the contest, volunteers to serve in her
place. Chosen as the boy from District 12 is 16-year-old baker's son Peeta
Mellark (Josh Hutcherson), whom Katniss shares a key past run-in with. Following
a trip to the opulent Capitol where they and their twenty-two other opponents go
through the rituals of getting make-overs, being officially introduced in a
lavish ceremony, giving interviews, and enduring training sessions, it is time
for the grisly main event to begin. Caught by hidden cameras for the country to
see, it's every young man and woman for themselves. The object of the game: to
be the last one standing—or at least breathing.
"The Hunger Games" is the next eagerly-awaited franchise out of the gate one
year after "Harry Potter" came to a triumphant conclusion and just as the far
inferior, daft, and arguably sexist "Twilight" series is preparing for its final
entry. Whereas "Twilight" has boiled down to a glorified soap opera involving
hunky vampires, rippled werewolves, and foolish school girls willing to
sacrifice their lives for an infatuation, Suzanne Collins' "The Hunger Games" is
actually about something deeper than teen romance (though there is a little of
this) and fantasy creatures (ditto this, as well). Part sci-fi drama, part
timely, real-world comment on the exploitation of human beings for the unclean
purposes of entertainment value, the book—and film—thought-provokingly imagine a
world choked and bullied by a totalitarian government who use the annual
televised killing of children as a means of enslaving the common people and
keeping them silently in their place. In facing her own mortality, Katniss
begins the games only wanting to live. Via the savvy way she plays, however, she
one-ups the Capitol—something President Snow (Donald Sutherland) is none too
pleased about—and inadvertently empowers the districts. For the first time, they
begin to wonder if an uprising against their oppressors is possible.
Boldly stirring and never less than involving, the film does an acceptable if
eventually disappointing job of rendering the novel's elements. Indeed, a movie
should be judged on its own merits separate from whatever it is based upon, but
doing this calls out even more problems. The screenplay too often assumes that
viewers already know what's going on; why else would the choice be made to not
even explain at the onset that the twelve districts represents part of a
post-war North America? As is, it's made to seem like an unidentified alternate
country or even planet. While the characters and settings are exquisitely
conceived, the follow-through isn't as consistently up to snuff. The world of
posh grandiosity Katniss and Peeta enter into is a far cry from the gritty
squalor of District 12, but the editing, always about forwarding things along,
fails to drink in the atmosphere or the perversity of treating innocent
teenagers like royalty as they prepare to execute them. Cinna (Lenny Kravitz),
Katniss' kind-hearted, gold-lashed stylist, isn't given enough time to bond with
her to believably buy into their close friendship, either.
The picture's entire second half is dedicated to the morbid title festivities,
and anyone familiar with Richard Connell's "The Most Dangerous Game," 1987's
"The Running Man," 2001's "Battle Royale," 2001's "Series 7: The Contenders," or
2007's "The Condemned" will be intimately familiar with the central idea of
people being forced to kill each other for sport. The need for a PG-13 rating
here calls for some corners to be cut and a bit of restraint to be embraced, but
the overall events of the narrative go predominately unchanged, the names and
faces of the fallen appearing each evening in the night sky. What has been
slightly lost in translation is the harsher adversities Katniss must face. The
need for food, for water, for rest and energy and a reliable climate fall to the
wayside and become non-issues. Also gone: the hovercrafts that come along to
cruelly snatch up the victims in its mechanical claws, an excision that harms
the effectiveness and overall gravity of certain death scenes. Without this,
there is no explanation for what happens to the losing players. Furthermore, if
the choice to not use this story point was embraced, why are hovercrafts
established in the film's first five minutes?
Finally, by shortening the length of the games from approximately two weeks to
four days, there is a rushed feel to a lot of what occurs and not nearly time
enough to establish the romance that evolves between Katniss and an injured—and
way too quickly healed—Peeta. During the pre-game interviews, Peeta throws a
curve ball by announcing he's had feelings for Katniss all his life. In a bid to
play up this star-crossed lovers angle, Katniss goes along with it, acting to
the cameras and, hopefully, sponsors' emotions while starting to question if
there might, in fact, be truth to her burgeoning feelings for him. This segment,
poignant and verging on steamy in the book through no more than some shared
kisses, comes close to being an afterthought in the film.
Jennifer Lawrence is the anchor of the tale as Katniss, refusing sentimental
pleas for sympathy and earning the viewer's respect by being herself. When she
throws on a smile for the cameras, it's all a part of her scheme. And when
things really do get to her—saying good-bye to Prim, for one, or her short-lived
camaraderie with youngest competitor Rue (Amandla Stenberg)—her turmoil and pain
are palpably and intimately felt. In solid support, Woody Harrelson is just
right as the drunken Haymitch, District 12's last surviving victor who acts as
Katniss' and Peeta's mentor; Elizabeth Banks (2012's "Man on a Ledge")
deliciously disappears under bright-colored wigs and make-up as District 12's
rosy escort Effie Trinket; and newcomer Amandla Stenberg is splendid as youngest
player Rue.
"The Hunger Games" should please fans, but leave them wondering what an
alternate version might have looked like that wasn't afraid to get its hands
dirty. This is a safer adaptation than the novel deserves, lacking in the full
scope and more difficult hardships that would actively face anyone in Katniss'
dire situation. With that said, Katniss Everdeen is a strong, fascinating
heroine who puts to shame the Bella Swans of the literary and cinematic world.
When the competition ends and, in a wily flash, sets up the second installment,
"Catching Fire," don't be surprised to have conflicting thoughts. Even at 142
minutes that fly by, "The Hunger Games" could afford a tougher treatment to go
along with its heady thematic contemplations. Let's hope the filmmakers were
only getting warmed up over what's to come. |
