Upon seeing “The Hunger Games,” I was unable to say whether or not the book is better, as I haven’t read it. However, I did say, “The book has GOT to be better.” Not that the movie is “Twilight” bad; it simply doesn’t scale the cinematic heights of the “Harry Potter” films.
The movie version of “The Hunger Games” works only as mass entertainment, even though its story could provide cutting social commentary. That’s a problem. Here’s a world in which a despotic government requires its 12 outlying districts to annually offer up one teenage boy and girl as tribute in a brutal deathmatch competition. To make matters worse, the event is packaged like the Super Bowl and broadcast on television for all to see. The residents of the privileged central district lap it up, while those in the deprived outlying districts complacently offer their children for sacrifice and then watch the competition with hopeless surrender.
It’s an interesting blend of George Orwell’s “1984” and Koushun Takami’s “Battle Royale,” a novel in which a totalitarian state forces Japanese school children to fight to the death. But the movie doesn’t take advantage of its own milieu. Surely the filmmakers could have drawn parallels between a society that’s capable of hosting such a competition and a world that gorges on violent entertainment but is desensitized to human brutality. But no; “The Hunger Games” simply wants to be a thriller.
On one hand, that’s fine. Many great movies exist as pure entertainment. But on the other hand, “The Hunger Games” fails where “fun” films need to excel.
I’ll start with the directing. I wonder what Gary Ross, who also co-wrote the screenplay with Collins, was thinking when he decided to use a documentary, rather than a classical, approach to the camerawork. Ross’ sole instruction to his director of photography must have been to stick the camera as close to the actors as possible and violently whip it around, making it impossible for viewers to see what’s going on. The final fight in particular is a messy string of blurry, indistinguishable clips.
My stepson tells me this makes a movie more intense. Bull. This is how directors who lack the ability to choreograph even a decent action scene shoot a film.
Worse, Ross uses this approach in scenes that do not call for it, such as when two people are having a conversation or getting out of a car. Rare are the moments when he pulls far enough away from a character’s face to give the viewer visual breathing room. I spent most of the movie thinking the cameraman accidentally filmed the whole thing with a zoom lens.
Then there’s the character work, which is weak. The central protagonist, Katniss Everdeen, and her friend, Peeta Mellark, are the best-rounded characters in the movie. Ross and Collins actually give their relationship a narrative thread that skims the surface of themes like loyalty and forgiveness, giving the movie some much-needed meat.
However, the secondary characters that surround these two combatants must have gotten shortchanged in the transition from the page to the screen. Little time is spent developing the other kids in the tournament or creating anything more than superficial ties between them and Katniss.
For example, when one of the competitors goes from arrogant to mentally bonkers between scenes, it’s obvious the game has gotten to him, but you never see that happen. I also couldn’t help but believe Katniss’ mentor in the games, Haymitch Abernathy, played by Woody Harrelson, was far more interesting and better developed in the book.
One movie critic who has read the book said “The Hunger Games” feels like a greatest hits compilation of events from the book. It does have a highlight reel feel to it. Fans of the book will probably like watching for their favorite moments, but those unfamiliar with the world Collins created should probably pick up the book, assuming their interest is piqued. It’s GOT to be better.
Rated PG-13 for violent thematic material and disturbing images involving teens. Two stars out of four.
Email David Laprad at dlaprad@hamiltoncountyherald.com.