The Hunger Games (2012) Review

Originally posted on AD Forums on March 26, 2012. Spoilers are marked in bold.

The phrase 'YA lit' didn't used to give people pause, but thanks to the omnipresence of what is possibly the most offensive book marketed to teenage girls ever, Twilight, in addition to a multitude of terrible movies marketed from teen-aimed literature both new (Eragon) and old (The Legend of the Seeker), the critical eye turned towards the latest YA adaptation to hit theaters, The Hunger Games, seems ravenous. I did not expect a masterpiece going into theaters. (Before you think I'm dropping into the realm of hyperbole later on, the movie isn't a masterpiece.) Me and my best friend had heard good things going in, which made us a little more excited than we normally would've been, but at the same time, we were cautious. (We were also more than a little disturbed that we were among the oldest non-parents in the theater. We couldn't quite figure out what the eight-year-olds were doing in our auditorium, but such is life.)

Overall, though, our caution was rewarded well. The Hunger Games was not the most brilliant movie, nor is it the best adaptation of a book, but it was a solid film that captured, if not the hefty emotional moments of the series, its tone and relentless fear excellently. The movie hews close to the book, and its added scenes, oddly, are more resonant in places than scenes lifted directly from Collins' work - we'll get into that.

Basically, the plot trajectory for the movie is summarized in its opening placards: The Hunger Games involve sacrificing 24 children of the 12 Districts, one boy and one girl, to a seemingly ruthless Capitol, which pits them against each other in a battle to the death. As soon as you see Katniss Everdeen on screen, it's made fairly obvious that she will be this year's Tribute from District 12, though she volunteers herself to save her fragile sister Primrose. With her fellow Tribute Peeta, she finds herself embroiled in a dangerous power struggle that she's only vaguely aware of as the ruthlessness of the other teens around her is made known.

As far as the movie goes, a lot of the troubles that one might have in adapting a book aren't evident. The script is tight, the only problems with it being either problems that the book itself had (keeping up the relentless pace of the novel tends to give emotional moments the shaft) or issues that arise from toning down the levels of gore and violence in the novel (SPOILER Rue's death suffers greatly in this aspect, as her killing in the book is incredibly animalistic; in a similar sense, Peeta's leg not festering towards the end of the Games leaves a lack of drama towards the end of the film END SPOILER). One nice device the film uses is making Caesar and his on-air partner expository characters for the audience; showing bits and pieces of what the Capitol viewing audience would see, and treating us like a Capitol audience, isn't the most creative filmic idea, but definitely gets the point across. The film adds sequences beyond this, and, without fail, they add to the story rather than detract from it. SPOILER Seneca Crane's death has been mentioned as an eerie one, and I wholly agree with that reading END SPOILER, but the rebellion in District 11 had a far more emotional tenor to it than the scene directly leading to said rebellion, SPOILER young Rue's death END SPOILER. Going back to 'things the book did that the movie shouldn't have done', Gale. Gale is such a nonentity in the first book, and barely there in the second, SPOILER that his status as a member of the 'love triangle' is almost laughable. END SPOILER The movie does nothing to rectify this, assuming that the marketers for the movie want to play up that aspect of the film. Gale's just there.

One aspect of the book the film really does get right is the frenetic tone. There is a lot of running, a lot of fear, a lot of tension. This mood works in the film's favor many times, only backfiring during one key sequence, and the sense of constantly being watched and tracked comes across very well.

Acting-wise, Jennifer Lawrence is best in show, but no one really drops the ball as far as acting goes. (We only saw Liam Hemsworth for about three seconds, so I can't really pass judgment on him beyond 'what the hell was that reaction face? And why are they watching the Games at work?') Josh Hutcherson is given the difficult task of being simultaneously dreamy and a two-faced ass, something he pulls off rather well. Towards the end, the script does move him into faceless prettyboy territory, sadly, but right about until the rule change, Hutcherson really conveys an uneasy personality blend. Elizabeth Banks is a particular stand-out of the supporting cast, though I appreciated the work of all of them. (It's a shame Bentley is likely to not be in the next film, that's all I'm saying.) And can I mention the boy who played Cato, Alexander Ludwig? Christ, that kid was scary as shit. He nailed that role. His last scene was probably the best, acting-wise, in the whole movie. Congratulations, Mr. Ludwig, I cannot wait to see more from you in the future.

Now for the bad. The special effects are... well, in some cases, really great. The control room looks brilliant. I'm sure that's where all the money went. However, what is arguably the most important scene in the film - the two District 12 champions on fire during the parade - looks absolutely terrible. As others have mentioned, hopefully the amount of money this film made will lead to a bigger effects budget, but I cannot fathom why the SFX money was not poured into that pivotal scene. The Games themselves, and the fallen images, have a nice broken-television feel to them, very artificial, though. There was one scene with a pan-up to something that looked obviously CGI but I honestly can't remember where that scene was, so I can't really comment on it.

There are also some scenes that fall emotionally flat. Lawrence's reactions and obvious awkwardness at the interview really stand out to me as a stumbling block - yes, the book stated she was awkward throughout the interview, but awkwardly charming, not awkwardly awkward. The potential awe one might have from her television debut is definitely muted by hewing too close to the book's definitions. SPOILER Rue's death, however, is the biggest problem. This moment is supposed to be one of the driving forces in Katniss making sure Peeta doesn't die in the Games, one of the reasons she heads off to find him, in her emotionally distraught state. Rue is supposed to be a stand-in for her sister as well - and we get none of that from the movie's fast pacing. It's hard to grasp why Katniss is openly sobbing in the woods in the film, where, in the book, the grisly nature of her death combined with her status as Primrose 2.0 make it obvious why Katniss is reeling. Thankfully, the film segways into a much more powerful segment about Rue's district in full-on rebellion after seeing the kindness Katniss affords them, which does provide some of the emotional heft missing from the earlier sequence. END SPOILER

People have mentioned the jittery camera, and honestly, my only problem with the camera was when the shots changed every two seconds for the early sequences of the movie. It was more frustrating than sickening, however, and that problem seemed to end the minute the Tributes got to the Capitol.

Since people are already talking Oscar chances, I think I can safely say Art Direction is a huge possibility, as is Costuming (depending on how AMPAS reads the Capitol clothing - yes, they are supposed to look inhumanly ridiculous in the book too). Sound Design and Sound Editing should be locks for nominations. If Actress turns out to be a pretty empty field, Lawrence might push through, but that would take a lot of other films outright bombing to happen. Picture will not happen.

All in all, this is a perfectly solid adaptation of the book, and stands well as a movie, despite having some obvious flaws. I'm probably going to see it again, for what its worth. Its flaws are not enough to mute its overall good quality.

****/*****

'Whitney' - The G Word (S1E20)

Most people are aware by now that Whitney, the sitcom starring Whitney Cummings as a version of herself navigating an incredibly stable long-term relationship she shares with a man named Alex, is not very good television. It purports itself to be a comedy, but very few laughs can be found in any given episode of the show. It also had the misfortune of being a terrible show being kept on the air while Internet darling Community was kept off the schedule for reasons still unknown, even though Community eventually returned to NBC. Whitney is a thoroughly terrible show, but it is subject to a vitriol usually reserved for shows like Toddlers and Tiaras, and, frankly, Whitney doesn't quite deserve that vitriol. It may be one of the shrillest, least funny comedies produced in the past five years, but it does not actively offend in the way, say, Glee is apt to do, and, every once in a while, can make a cogent point about something in a unique way.

'The G Word' is an episode that actually impressed me. No, it was not funny. That is nothing that we can expect from the show at this point in time. However, 'The G Word' tackles issues surrounding homosexuality with an understanding and grace that hasn't been seen on network television recently. It's an admirable effort, honestly. Because it was an episode of Whitney, I was unaware of 'The G Word''s existence until a friend of mine posted it on the shared Facebook wall for our acting troupe. We're doing a show about homophobia, and she said it had a very accepting, good portrayal of homosexuality in it. I was skeptical, but I watched it.

In the framework of the plot - bear with me, I have no idea who any of these characters really are - Whitney's friends Lily and Neal have just broken off an engagement, and Lily is despondent. Lily assumes that Neal must be going on dates with other women, and entrusts Whitney to find the truth. Since Whitney is that famous sitcom archetype - super-nosy protagonist - she dives into her task with gusto, taking along henpecked Alex with her (it should be noted that Alex really doesn't care) for a surprise visit to Neal's apartment. It turns out Neal is having a date... just with another man.

At this point is where you'd expect a sitcom as shoddily put together as Whitney to go completely off the rails, throwing in every stereotypical gay joke known to man and otherwise humiliating Neal as a character. Or, in true sitcom fashion, to have it be a huge wacky misunderstanding - Steven, the other man on the 'date', is just a coworker! They were having a business meeting! It was exactly as Neal told Alex and Whitney when they entered the apartment! Cue audience laughter! Oddly enough, and much to my eternal surprise, it didn't go like that. Neal rushes over to Whitney's apartment and shares that he doesn't really know what to do, because he did love Lily when they were engaged, but obviously has feelings for Steven. Whitney tells Neal that he should just try and open up to their friends, because hiding from them is going to get him nowhere.

And in terms of acceptance from friends, the episode serves as a pretty good primer on what you should and should not do when a friend comes out to you. Alex has probably the best reaction out of everyone else in the episode - simply saying 'cool' and offering Neal a beer. Alex consistently treats Neal like a person throughout the entire episode, respectful of his privacy and acting as if there is nothing different about his friend. (Whitney thinks he underreacted, but she is a shrill harridan that should never be trusted.) Lily comes in a close second - though she uses the term 'fluid' to describe Neal's sexuality, a word that I think is a bit of a cop-out to avoid saying that someone might be bisexual, she accepts Neal's sexuality with grace, and does not attack him for leaving her at all. Color me impressed that, on a show as terribly written as Whitney, Lily didn't blame Neal or Steven for leaving her in the dark, and actually took the time to listen to his issues.

Of course, this being a sitcom, there are some 'wacky hijinks' elements to this. A male peripheral character I didn't catch the name of was immediately offended that Neal was never attracted to him, then spent much of the rest of the episode in the background trying to impress him. Thankfully, we got no follow-up on this, as it was unfunny and stupid. Also, a blonde female peripheral character seems to exist to get drunk and make double entendres that weren't funny. Her reaction was pretty blase to the whole sexual identity thing, mostly because she needed to plow ahead with her double entendres. Also, since this is a 'sitcom', there were apparently things called 'jokes' that didn't quite work out. The ending in particular was jarring - after an episode of lovely stereotype-defying speech, the tag involves Lily thinking of maybe hitting up the bartender who sent her a drink in the beginning of the episode, only for Neal to inform her that particular bartender is definitely gay. Lily then declares that she obviously has a type. Way to erase everything you just did, episode.

But in any case, I feel like we should tip our hats to 'The G Word' for even maintaining that dignity and respect for... 21 minutes. Given that Whitney is a crass, poorly-written exercise on its best days, managing to provide a respectful tone in dealing with an individual's sexuality, even sandwiched between horrible jokes, is almost miraculous, especially considering the nonsense that shows like Glee have been foisting on LGBT cast members and viewers. Never thought I'd say this, but good job at something, Whitney. You have one episode to be proud of.

The South Park Retrospective, Part Three

Grouping Three: Celebrities and Their Function in South Park

Trapped in the Closet (season nine)

Fishsticks (season thirteen)

Originally posted on March 15, 2011 on AD Forums.

Celebrities do not usually end up looking good on South Park. It’s a fact of life. Britney Spears gets horrifically mutilated in the episode she appeared in, to make a point about the destructive nature of paparazzi on human beings. Sarah Jessica Parker gets shot in Scrotie McBoogerballs, mainly because she’s Sarah Jessica Parker and is apparently incredibly ugly. (She’s not that bad looking. Is she?) We can go on. And on. And on. I could have literally picked any duo of episodes and probably made the argument that celebrities are paradoxically portrayed as humans worthy of being treated like any other human, and otherworldly beings whose stupidity and fanaticism is even more boundless than that of the adult denizens of South Park, but I went with two episodes that are probably best known for their portrayals of celebrities and the idiotic lengths to which, in this universe, they will go to ingrain themselves into a society that seems to uniformly not care for them on a personal level while being oddly fascinated with them, with disastrous results.

This is most obvious in Trapped in the Closet, one of the most infamous episodes of South Park for tackling two subsections of America that tend to not like being tackled: Scientology and Tom Cruise. The main thrust of the episode – the conflict between Stan Marsh, who is believed by Scientologists to be the reincarnation of L. Ron Hubbard, and the upper-level Scientologists who know the truth about this so-called ‘religion’ – is often forgotten in the popular landscape for what might be the simplest subplot in a sitcom ever. Tom Cruise, going to pay his respects to Stan, the new prophet of Scientology, is devastated by Stan saying that he isn’t as great an actor as Leonardo DiCaprio (okay), Gene Hackman (all right), or Jon Heder, the man who gave us Napoleon Dynamite (…well, he was the best part of ‘When In Rome’), and locks himself inside Stan’s closet to grieve. Thus starts a cavalcade of people, from a remarkably sane Randy Marsh to Nicole Kidman to R. Kelly begging Tom Cruise to ‘come out of the closet’.

Continuing with the theory of the South Park mirror world, the implicit thought behind these implorations is that, in this world, there would be no repercussions for Cruise were he to come out of the closet. Obviously this is supposed to be a knowing wink at our own reality, where Tom Cruise’s sexuality is a terribly-kept secret, but it goes back to how, in South Park, homosexuality really isn’t a huge deal to the straight citizens of South Park. However, going with our central thesis of this analysis, the main thrust of Tom Cruise’s existential crisis that causes him to lock himself in a ten-year-old’s closet is an overwhelming sense that he is not cared for. Which, in Stan’s case, he really isn’t. Randy could probably give a shit, too, seeing as he’s stuck trying to get a man out of his son’s bedroom. However, the amount of media attention devoted to the efforts to get Cruise out of the closet is overwhelming. National news, other prominent celebrities, other Scientologists, and a dangerously armed R. Kelly are all at hand to witness the latest madness perpetrated by a celebrity. The paradox of how the South Park universe relates to celebrity, unlike the funhouse mirror that takes overreaction to an extreme and deemphasizes current America’s treatment of homosexuality as a novelty or a danger, could easily be said to be a direct translation of current America’s attitude towards celebrity – we consume so much unnecessary information about the rich and famous that we idolize, yet so many of us have stories of personal irritation or distaste about meeting some of these people in person. It is the idea of the collective hive mind fighting against the individual reaction, another iteration of one of South Park’s favorite themes – us vs. them.

Of course, also present in Trapped in the Closet is a rather incredible sequence of events where Stan becomes the prophet of Scientology and is informed of just how completely whacked the whole enterprise is. His ideas to reinvigorate the church, which are antithetical to its main mission (to scam people, according to an elder Scientologist), are met with cries that Stan is going to get sued, and Cruise, John Travolta, and R. Kelly all come out of the closet to assert they will sue Stan’s ass into oblivion. But this plot, which is completely straight satire, doesn’t elucidate much of the South Park world. The next episode will not deal with Stan getting sued. But the celebrities will remain idiots crying for attention, and South Park will continue to see all these celebrities turn up for no real reason.

Case in point: the second episode being analyzed, Fishsticks. Like the preceding analysis, there is an interesting plot in the foreground of the episode that deals with the creative tensions of having a partnership while working on a comedic venture, with Jimmy coming up with a pretty dumb, but mildly funny, pun about people who like ‘fishsticks’ being gay fish. (If you aren’t getting it, this will help. Prepare to be mildly impressed by the power of puns.) Since Cartman was in the room during the creation of the joke, he immediately begins to lay claim to its popularity in the world at large, leaving Jimmy torn over what to do about Cartman’s rampant lying. If you read this like one might read many Terrance and Phillip episodes – as a treatise on Parker and Stone’s working process and the issues they face when it comes to making the show and dealing with each other’s quirks – it’s a fascinating episode that pretty much flat-out says that sometimes these guys have issues with crediting and with each other. Episodes that admit these issues in a more raw, blunter fashion generally raise a lot of consternation in the fandom (wait until we get to You’re Getting Old!); the fact that this episode’s nuanced look at people being assholes to each other slipped by is definitely a product of Kanye West taking over the entire episode in the public consciousness.

Basically, Kanye West doesn’t get the fishsticks joke, and is sure that people are calling him a gay fish. On a cultural level, everyone has told West all he needs to know prior to this episode – he is, after all, the genius voice of a generation, not a gay fish. The collective masses are now, in West’s mind, turning against him, attacking him, endlessly fascinated with shaming him with a slur that’s not even a slur.

On the individual level, the people who run interference for Kanye tend to treat him, at the very best, with a complete lack of artifice. His posse makes a valiant effort to explain that no one thinks he personally is a gay fish. Cartman, Jimmy, and Carlos Mencia end up terrified of West because of his complete lack of comprehension. Compared to the faceless masses who laugh endlessly at the stupid pun, West is regarded as either completely crazy, or someone to simply wave off. The dichotomy becomes clear once again in the South Park universe. The individual will never have the same opinion as the masses.

As I wrote this, there were plenty of other episodes I thought of that fit this dichotomy nicely (particularly Stupid Spoiled Whore…, which, if I wasn’t already about two weeks behind in delivering this analysis, I would definitely weave in, due to its portrayal of Paris Hilton as incredibly mentally disturbed, making the individual continually fearful for his safety, and collectively a source of pride and idolatry for the female population). But the similarities in Trapped and Fishsticks’ receptions made them an excellent pairing. Beyond the paradoxical enamored collective and irritated/terrified individual paradigm that shows up often in celebrity stories, there are the same generalized conflicts that appear in many South Park episodes: religious authority vs. the common man, Cartman versus the world (except Craig, who has apparently learned that the best way to deal with Eric is to just let him do whatever he wants and move on with one’s life), sense against the nonsensical. In terms of fleshing out our South Park universe, our overreacting mob, such a staple of the show, is given purpose in relation to celebrity, while the individual is usually given to an extreme viewpoint.

Next time, we’ll switch away from the South Park world construction for a bit to focus on physical comedy and animation, with Casa Bonita, which is one of the greatest things I’ve ever seen put to film, and Osama Bin Laden has Farty Pants