The Hunger Games: Mockingjay – Part 1
(2014)
(SPOILERS) The chief problem with The Hunger Games: Catching Fire was that it essentially reheated
the first film, not an uncommon complaint of sequels generally. The Hunger Games: Mockingjay – Part 1 remedies
this but in so doing exposes a far greater ailment. Without the central, and
unlikely, gimmick (as in, this world is not really any more plausible than that
of the much derided Divergent) of
this particular totalitarian regime, there is no glue holding the picture
together. As a result the entire edifice begins to crumble, and the makers are
left clutching desperately at the life raft of propaganda commentary. Of
course, cutting the book in half for strictly artistic reasons doesn’t help anyone
to tell a compelling story either.
I haven’t read the Suzanne Collins’ novels, and I’m not
particularly inspired to, and I’m not going to spoil if for myself by reading a
synopsis. It’s quite possible that Mockingjay
possesses a rousing, thoughtful and insightful conclusion that justifies all
this extra time taken. I’m doubtful, though. Lionsgate (and Warner Bros too)
are dab hands at milking bashful cash cows with finite literary lactose on tap.
Lionsgate did it with Twilight, and
Warner did it with Harry Potter. The
end is nigh, and the decision to double up has zero to do with making a
coherent or satisfying film. It’s not such a problem ending on a cliffhanger,
it is a problem if the resulting story
becomes aimless or listless. Breaking
Dawn – Part 1 at least boasted the majestically warped horror show of Bella’s
pregnancy to hold incredulous attention. And the Deathly Hallows: Part 1, for all its “Let’s camp out in the
woods for an hour” rap was much more interesting than the banal big battle
conclusion. I fear that is the kind of place Mockingjay – Part 2 is heading. If so, it can’t even claim a
fitfully interesting lead-in.
We pick up with Katniss suffering PTS as a result of the climax
of Catching Fire in which she lost
Peeta (to the clutches of Donald Sutherland’s nefarious President Snow), the
most mystifying point in a love triangle since… well Taylor Lautner. Josh
Hutcherson can act to some degree, so he’s got that as an advantage over Lautner,
but he has no chemistry with Lawrence and he’s an uphill battle (particularly
so, given his height restrictions) trying to make a beta male character
sympathetic when as a performer he lacks presence (and is unable to impress
upon us Peeta’s intelligence, apparently the character’s strongest suit).
Considerably more might have been made of the position of the
rebel leadership, that the captured Tributes are traitors, so it’s lobbing a
soft ball to establish outright here that Peeta has done his very best while
undergoing starvation and Manchurian
Candidate-style brainwashing. Despite the gritty action and handheld
camera, and the moves to show politics as a murky business no matter which side
is talking, there’s never any doubt that our noble and true heroes are noble
and true. It might have been more honest to have a central character break
under torture, since that would be the response of most of us (the picture is also
guilty of continually playing to stereotypes, which is why it attempts to cast
doubt on the stalwartness of the not-so-manly Peeta). Peeta’s out of the loop
for most of the movie, which serves to reinforce how unlikely Katniss’
affections are; she is overcome with emotion at every sight of paltry Peeta on
the Capitol’s broadcast.
Nevertheless, she finds time in her busy weepy schedule to
canoodle with manly beefcake, and brother of Thor, Gale. Liam Hemsworth isn’t
quite as one-note as previously, since he has considerably more screen time,
but Gale is in no danger of being unveiled as a layered character. The more we
see and hear of him, volunteering for heroic suicide missions, saving as many
townsfolk from a bombing run as he could and then berating himself for not
saving more, the more immodestly noble he becomes. Gale’s judgemental traits
(of Peeta’s betrayal, of Katniss’ emotional superficiality towards him) may be
implicitly criticised, but Hemsworth is unlikely to dispel his rep as an
impassive plank any time soon.
This isn’t such a great picture for J-Law either. Katniss is
granted a bravura moment with a bow and arrow against some fighter planes (and
director Francis Lawrence stages an outstanding piece of action as a chimney
collapses, seen through the window of a derelict warehouse), but spends an
awful lot of time blubbing, fretting, and being generally underwhelming. I’d go
as far to say Lawrence comes unstuck here, buffeted by the demands of having
her character doused in despair or subject to the demands of others. She is
largely without the contrasting upsides; when she Katniss comes over all
spontaneous, her recognised greatest strength, the dialogue and visuals are
anything but.
There was surely a better path through this uncertain territory,
but Peter Craig and Danny Strong haven’t found it. The ground is fertile
enough; Katniss, who has been used and manipulated by Snow, now finds herself
used and manipulated by the rebels. To the end that she must inspire all
through becoming the symbol of the rebellion, she is done up in superhero duds (X-Men by way of Dark Knight) and sent out to scenes of devastation (a hospital, the
scene of the aforementioned bombing). There’s almost a meta-quality to this,
but not in a good way; President Coin (Julianne Moore, exuding steely
perfection) and Plutarch Heavensbee (Philip Seymour Hoffman) mull over what to
do to best get the message across and rouse the masses. So too, the writers
mull what to do to find an involving storyline and stumble from one site of
carnage to another. There’s no tension here, and the results are close to
aimless.
Occasional moments are suggestive of the intelligence and perceptivity
the picture clearly seeks. Replaying Katniss’ impromptu speech (which itself is
astonishingly well-composed, and so entirely unbelievable, for something apparently
off the cuff) to stirring music, or doing the same with footage of her
fighter-jet take down, adds an another level of reading to what we have just
watched. The speech feels even more rehearsed, while the heroic jet-busting now
looks fake. There’s also a beautifully observed moment where we Coin gives a stirring
speech and we cut to Plutarch in the audience, silently mouthing the words he
has written for her. But what are we to make of the en-masse three-finger
salutes and the instant anthem sung by Katniss; James Newton Howard’s score
instructs the viewer to be as easily prodded into unquestioning reverence.
There’s a sense that, whenever the picture is about to say or do something
interesting, the trappings of juvenilia resurface and put it in its place.
I’m not sure accounts of real world embrace of the
three-fingered salute in any way legitimise the picture as a genuine
inspiration for overthrowing the status quo; rather, they emphasise that
iconography is easily mimicked (the most obvious of these is V from V for Vendetta, another picture where
impact comes from broad strokes rather than great depth) and that, where there
is general apathy, something is better than nothing. I don’t see any reason its
Young Adult status should give the picture an easy ride; it chooses to go
there, after all. But perhaps Part 2
will surprise me, and I will reconsider Part
1 in a different light.
There are several new characters here, but most noticeable is
how limited the impact of the old ones is. Hoffman steals the film in his every
scene, suggesting an exemplar of craftiness and cunning; Plutarch should have
written the whole movie. Harrelson, Banks, Tucci, Banks, all get a moment or
two but not so they are memorable; its lip service, really. Claflin, who made a
great impact on the previous picture, is reduced to an utterly indifferent
presence. Malone gets one scene and is much missed. Robert Knepper, who can be
counted on to eat any scenery in his eyeline, seems to get about two lines.
Jeffrey Wright manages to make an inauspicious character seem
much more alive and intriguing than he actually is. One wonders if half the
grand thesps here are doing it as a favour to their kids, or because, like Christmas
panto, it’s an easy undemanding engagement that pays the bills. But this is a
picture wasting a huge amount of time doing very little that’s engaging, so it
really should be finding time for its most colourful characters (who, like the
setting, are now drab and grey).
The exception is the introduction of Natalie Dormer as stylish and
sexy media type Cressida, sporting tattoos on her half-shaved head and a
hairstyle that must require a lot of adjustment for wind direction (her
assistant is covered in piercings and ring pulls, so neither are best set for
dirty-shooty-explodey conditions). Like Wright, Dormer has more greater impact
than her part on paper suggests.
Following a gratuitous “save the cat” scene (even with its
po-faced “This is important” face on, the makers still find time to respect
grand movie clichés), the picture stumbles and plods to a non-climax of sorts. Boggs
(House of Cards’ Mahershala Ali)
leads a daring raid to extract the Tributes. Momentarily director Lawrence
strikes two plot threads together and they catch fire, as Katniss attempts to
distract Snow while the SWAT team get down to business. We are left wondering
what has happened to them, but then learn the mission has been a success. This
is despite the fact that the team are baffled. It was all too easy; no one
stopped them from escaping.
So of course, rather than behaving cautiously
(because, let’s face it, unless you’re the sloppiest bunch of rebels ever you’ll
expect something rum to be afoot) they let Peeta get all strangle-happy
on Katniss. It’s the weakest of twists, not just because it is telegraphed that
something will go amiss (Snow has dropped such heavy hints, all but the most
befuddled would get the gist; “… it's the things
we love most that destroy us”), but also because it is logically unsound.
And ending on Peeta’s mental malaise isn’t the most must-see –what-happens-next
of cliffhangers (I may be mistaken but I don’t think anyone much cares about
the half-pint numpty).
Lionsgate may well muster a good showing for the finale, but
it’s evident that a good proportion of the great unwashed have already got the
message this isn’t all that. Which has happened before. The Matrix Revolutions recklessly forsook the very aspect that
sparked imaginations and instead served up a hardware-packed extended battle
scene. It was little wonder audiences didn’t care for the picture. An
instalment of The Hunger Games didn’t
necessarily need to flounder without a game (notably, both this and The Matrix announce the central attraction
in their titles, so the studio cannot be too surprised if audiences end up
feeling short-changed), but it really does
need to have forward momentum, engaging ideas and sharp scenarios. The Hunger Games – Mockingjay Part 1 has sufficient
ideas to play with, but it is unable or unwilling to develop them in the face of a severed storyline and a teen
romance triangle that musters nary a shred of conviction.
