The Hunger Games: Mockingjay Part 1

Jennifer Lawrence’s personality and her clever excellence of her supporting cast kept “The Hunger Games: Mockingjay Part 1,” released in 2014, climbing upwards. The third installment in the “Hunger Games” franchise (well, I should say chapter three, part one) is a depressing, sometimes terrible experience, and not only because it’s the darkest installment ever in an already dark series, capturing dystopian rebels in a poverty-struck and discouraged state. As written by regular series writers Peter Craig and Danny Strong, and as directed by Frances Lawrence (who also was on the second film in the franchise, “The Hunger Games: Catching Fire”), it also feels a bit stretched out, not to give the actors room to breathe and stretch the film’s narrative borders to give better attention with detail, but because that’s how Hollywood increasingly does big budget franchises now: breaking one book into two or three, like with Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows or The Hobbit, to make the intense bookworms happy by dramatizing as many scenes as possible, and to make money on tickets.

Matt Zoller Seitz mentioned that, “When the story begins, our heroes have literally been driven underground. Hunger Games champion Katniss Everdeen (Lawrence) survived multiple iterations of the books' nationally televised, gladiator-styled, bread-and-circuses reality show, then was cynically positioned by the evil President Snow (Donald Sutherland) as a false figure of inspiration.” She became a symbol of hope thanks to her determined spirit, plus intelligent planning by rebel fighters and image manipulators, including Katniss’s once-drunk and now sober mentor, Haymitch (Woody Harrelson), Seitz describes, “the propagandist and image consultant Plutarch” (dedicated to the memory of Philip Seymour Hoffman), the tech genius Betee (Jeffrey Wright), and the image consultant (and the comic relief) Effie Trinket.

“Mockingjay, Part 1” starts exactly where “Catching Fire” left off, with Katniss, rescued from Quarter Quell, living in a composite underground of District 13 with her fellow revolutionists. Led by their courageous district president Coin, played by Julianne Moore, with a frosted wig and a strict appearance, our heroes tolerate attacks by Snow’s planes and soldiers while planning their next righteous move. Obviously, Katniss is also aided and looked-after by her loyal right-hand, Gale Hawthorne, played by Liam Hemsworth, even as she fears over the fate of her boyfriend, who Seitz describes as “the still-milquetoast Peeta,” who’s being held hostage by Snow’s army and turned into an anti-Katniss half truth tool, disapproving Katniss on national TV in order to legitimize his mind controllers.

Seitz made a nice comparison when he said, “If "The Hunger Games" films were to be compared structurally to "Star Wars"—still the commercial Holy Grail of film franchises—you might say that this one is the first half of "The Empire Strikes Back," with emphasis on the visually and drastically oppressive Hoth sequences.” The story takes us from setback to setback to setback until we feel congested (on purpose). Snow has the overpowering military advantage, and in a couple of successful action scene, we get the feeling of just how long the rebels’ odds of victory are. The best of these portrays an airborne attack that’s filmed mostly from ground level, visualizing Snow’s warplanes as thick shapes that can corner in midair, like gulls.

There’s also a mild damage of media criticism and satire, though this time out it’s less focused on the immature distractions of televised chaos and more interested in the construction of political images. Like the other films in the franchise, this sequel of The Hunger Games is good at reminding present-day, real-world occurrences while modestly refusing to commit to any specific metaphor. Seitz reminds his readers, “A full-on, deliberately suicidal assault on a heavily armed government target faintly echoes images of nonviolent resistance from the Indian uprising against the British and the American Civil Rights movement, up to the point when the advancing rebels quit absorbing punishment and start dishing it out. Katniss is sold to the like-minded as a Che Guevara or young Fidel Castro (or perhaps a video-taunting Al Qaeda or ISIS-type, though of course Western audiences would rather not consider things from that angle). A good portion of the film's first half is about Katniss being shaped and sold and even packaged by Coin and her allies as a sort of pre-fabricated deliverer, the Mickey Mouse or Mr. Clean of the revolution, then rebelling against this tendency and figuring out (with help from Plutarch) that in revolution, as in advertising, authenticity sells better than slickness.”

The problem is, for all its surface intelligence, “Mockingjay, Part 1” has little depth, and that sometimes makes it much more frustrating than a more on purpose small-minded and silly movie might have been. One sometimes gets the sense that the moviemakers want credit for more political courageous (in a mainstream blockbuster) than they’re actually willing to earn. Seitz mentions, “There are many tantalizing and even powerful allusions, such as Katniss addressing her public while standing in a cityscape bombarded by Snow's forces, a scene that evokes pro-Palestinian camera crews showcasing collateral damage from Israeli airstrikes; but these are never developed beyond the barest wisp of a notion, and they sit quite awkwardly next to all the film's narrative clichés and emotional shortcuts: the scene where the excessively "packaged" icon throws away the script and speaks from the heart; the scene where the powerful old bad guy is being shaved with a straight razor and gets nicked and treats the wound as a metaphor; etc.”

Katniss’s participation in an innocent and (apparently intentionally) bland love triangle with two young men of unimportant personality seems intended to build her up and ensure that no one can steal the main character’s spotlight. Seitz brings up, “there's a "turnabout is fair play" aspect to this, and at times it plays like the long delayed answer to those '70s films driven by super-capable male characters, often played by Paul Newman or Robert Redford or Al Pacino, whose love interests were simpering bores. Katniss is such a powerful character, so strong and simple, that she wouldn't be diminished by playing opposite more interesting romantic leads. As is, she's like Scarlett O'Hara opposite two Ashley Wilkeses.” The weakness of the film’s romantic energy might not seem so obvious if this particular installment didn’t find Katniss in a state of weakness, recovering from physical and emotional damage. She’s much more reactive here than in previous installments (Seitz mentions, “which is true to the novel, I'm told”), but it’s still frustrating to see her shrunk to an eyewitness during the film’s action climax, watching heroic guys doing heroic things on TV monitors.

To be completely honest, even though this is a good movie, this is not as good as the previous two movies. The reason why is that they showed the only action sequence in the trailers, and it definitely makes it feel like this is half of a movie. How “Part 2” will be, I cannot say because I have yet to see that movie, especially since it was released today. I just got to find a day to watch it in the theaters when I get the chance before next Friday. However, I will still say you can check this movie out, but you won’t like it as much as the other two, I can tell you that.

Check in next Friday for the conclusion of “The Hunger Games Month.” Now I have to see when I can go to the theaters to see the last movie because I have been hearing it’s better than the first part, but I have to see it for myself to know.