The Hunger
Games: Catching Fire
(2013)
The sequel
to 2012’s “next Twilight” is turning
out to be just the kind of follow up the moneymen wet themselves over (despite
wholesale studio plundering of potential “next big things”, The Hunger Games is so far the only adaptation
of a “Young Adult” series of novels to repeat the success of those mostly
risible vampire pictures). The original’s positive word of mouth has snowballed
into an even more sizeable hit (likely to end up second or third for the year).
Having a literary pedigree doesn’t mean a sequel benefits from an author’s
desire to advance plot and character, however. This is merely a bigger, more
expensive retread of the first film. It distinguishes itself by featuring
noticeably less handheld camera and perhaps slightly more engaging political
intrigue, but any aspirations to strike out in a forward direction are kept
firmly in check.
I enjoyed
the first installment but I couldn’t swallow the conceit of Suzanne Collins’ dystopian,
totalitarian world. I Am Legend
director Francis Lawrence takes the reins from Gary Ross, and one of his aims
was to show us more this regime and how it ticks. Unfortunately, expanding the canvas
only makes the concept seem less likely. Lawrence ensures this installment
looks more polished (eschewing Ross’ shakycam is a significant part of this)
but it also seems more bloated (it isn’t; it’s only four minutes longer) and
less affecting. There’s nothing here that has the impact of the violent melee
when Katniss’ (Jennifer Lawrence) arrives in the first Games. And the picture
misses the contribution of Ross as co-writer of the screenplay. He is replaced by Simon Beaufoy and Michael
Arndt (author Suzanne Collins nor Billy Ray, the other credited writers of the
first movie, are absent) neither of whom have a history of subtlety.
Accordingly, Catching Fire is awash
with thick-eared or excruciatinly corny dialogue and sloppy, obvious sentiment.
I'm glad the kids are wowing at an even vaguely pro-revolution picture but this
one manages to be both hugely derivative and not especially sharp.
Catching Fire also takes an enormous amount of time to get
going, but the grander glimpses into this world are mostly routine. The best
element of the film’s first half is the for-the-crowds pretence at romance
between the profoundly disaffected Katniss and Peeta (the rather drippy Josh
Hutcherson), particularly as the love triangle itself (the other corner being
Liam Hemsworth’s Gale) is resoundingly torpid. When feelings for Peeta are eventually
rekindled, we struggle to understand why (even less obvious is how the desperately
unskilled titch survives for more than five minutes in the arena). Katniss’
growing awareness of the brutality of the districts and the seeds of rebellion
that are taking place is quite clumsy, unfortunately. The oppressed are very
oppressed, the fascist peacekeepers are very fascist, and Katniss is very upset
at what she sees. Repeatedly.
The build
up to the 75th Games is expanded without being hugely engrossing; only
the shallow showmanship really hits the mark, with Stanley Tucci’s returning
Caesar, all perma-tan and whitened teeth, consistently stealing the the
proceedings. It’s a shame this wit doesn’t extend to the surrounding material.
Katniss’ shows of defiance are all very well, but we want to get on to the
killing! Jennifer Lawrence is as reliable a centre as before, the glue that
holds the film together. She brings a weight and emotional depth Catching Fire would otherwise lack. And
an assortment of knitwear. But this time, for plot reasons, Katnip is obliged
to come across as unobservant and lacking insight. And it’s one of those
pictures that wears its process on its sleeve; you can be sure that the writers
will always finds excuses to avoid our heroes doing anything really nasty; the series has a vicious
premise but can only render it in a highly sanitised form.
When the
games begin things pick up, and Lawrence makes the most of his (mostly night
shoot) location filming. There are some decent ideas here (the dome) and some
not so decent ones (angry mandrills) but I question the idea that 75 years of
the Games could have gone by without there ever once being a contest between
past winners (it’s the same issue the first film has; the idea of the Games
going on for so long is designed to add substance to this society, but it
actually diminishes the practicality of the concept).
Lawrence dutifully
introduces all the challengers, but only those who eventually team up together
make an impression. We remember being introduced to the woman with pointy teeth
(it must smart if she gets her tongue in the way) but you’d be hard put to
place her during the tournament proper. So the opponents remain mostly faceless;
perhaps Lawrence has a “been there done that” attitude; it would certainly
explain why the Games seem to be over before they’ve really started. But take
out the Games and you remove Collins’ one arresting concept (flawed as it is). I
don’t know how the third book is structured (however, I’m quite sure there’s a
really good reason to turn it into two more movies…), but the end of this movie
is closer to The Matrix Reloaded than
The Empire Strikes Back.
The broad
strokes of the plotting extend to the new contestants. We’re told that they are
experienced killers, but why would they be any more experienced than Katniss
and Peeta; they aren’t continually engaging with new enemies, are they? Some of
them are more successfully established than others, just as some of the latest
challenges are more inventive than others. The killer baboons are a bit shit,
although it’s always fun to see wholesale slaughter of CGI animals (did Katniss
go round extracting all her arrows from their carcasses, I wonder?) There is
also an attack by jabberjays, which probably looked better on paper, and an
attack by a pustulous poison that very conveniently washes off with water (it
wouldn’t do for our young protagonist to go around looking unsightly for any
length of time).
I was
disappointed not to see a filthy fucking prawn as one of the tributes from
District 9, but I guess you can’t have everything. Last time around a child was
compelled to compete, so this time there’s a very old woman. Wisely, she prevented
from uttering a word. No such luck for Amanda Plummer, who is saddled with
playing a textbook fruit loop (she even speaks in nursery rhymes). Sam Claflin,
who was the best thing in last year’s Snow
White and the Huntsman, is fine as the ridiculously buffed Finnick, but the
stand out is Jena Malone as pissed-off kick-ass former winner Johanna (when
she’s on screen Katniss becomes rather forgettable, particularly during the
scene where she disrobes in a lift). Philip Seymour Hoffman seems to be picking
up the cheque as Plutarch Heavensbee, the new planner of the Games (replacing
Wes Bentley). Poor Toby Jones returns but only gets one scene. Woody Harrelson
(Haymitch) and Elizabeth Banks (Effie) are consistently good value.
Meanwhile, Donald
Sutherland is typically superb but there’s no texture to his malignancy; part
of making a world come alive is adding nuance to the villainy. He has a token
granddaughter to suggest he isn’t all-monster, but she’s responsible for the
body blow of the film’s cheesiest line (even given the “fake” romance between
Katniss and Peeta); "When I grow up,
I want to love someone that much".
So this is
a typical sequel, stock in construction and lavishly packaged. Maybe the fetid
romance and unfiltered social commentary works better on the page, but it holds
little lasting impact in translation. It becomes a mishmash of other tales and
a all rather self-evident “oppression is bad, the rich feeding off the poor is
bad” position. And, after 75 years of Hunger Games with the sheep-like populace
still watching, we know this cannot be a commentary on today’s society; we’d
have got bored of it and switched off in a tenth of that time.
***
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