Insurgent (2015)

Insurgent is now in theaters, and my opinion of it is comparable to Divergent, the first installment in the series, that was released one year ago. For what could easily be considered a cheap Hunger Games knock-off, this series is pretty good. Not quite as good as The Hunger Games, maybe, but thoroughly enjoyable to watch. I'm glad I got dragged into it on a whim last year.

Beyond being just another post-apocalyptic dystopia based on YA novels and featuring a teen heroine, Divergent hinges on one of those great conceptual sci-fi/fantasy elements - in this case, the factions, which separate humanity into different defining personalities. It's one of those interactive elements that is endlessly fascinating, and invites viewers to ask themselves, which faction would you belong to?

And while the first Divergent movie centered a lot on Dauntless (the brave) and Abnegation (the selfless), the sequel has some good, characteristic scenes featuring Amity (the peaceful), and Candor (the honest). This series provides a great opportunity to present the best and worst of these personality traits, but I have to say, as someone whose loyalties lie with Erudite (the intelligent), that faction is sadly lacking in positive role models.

I was disappointed that, almost certainly a result of her recent role in The Fault In Our Stars, main star Shailene Woodley had shorter hair in this movie. That's just a superficial complaint, however, as it wasn't too distracting to the story. The movie ended on more of a conclusive note than I was expecting, such that I wouldn't be disappointed if that was the end of the series. That having been said, I'm curious to find out what's going to happen in the final(?) installment.

Mockingjay - Part 1 (2014)

Or, "Moves and Counter-Moves"

The first part of Mockingjay picks up where Catching Fire left off, and concerns itself with the introduction of District 13, the hidden district occupied by the rebels plotting against the Empire - er, Capitol - and with their efforts to use an emotionally devastated Katniss as the focus of a series of propaganda spots ("propos") to stir up the unrest taking hold all over Panem. I've read a lot of criticism of the filmmakers' decision to turn the last book of The Hunger Games trilogy into a two-parter movie deal, and believe me, I would have been the first person to criticize it if it weren't done for good reason. But I think it worked out perfectly well.

As a reader of the books, I had a pretty good idea of what to expect in the first half of Mockingjay - no more Hunger Games, lots of buildup, and probably not getting to the war on the Capitol just yet. Perhaps if I hadn't read the books I might have been more disappointed in the lack of "action", but as it was, I was very excited to see the parts that were depicted in this half of the story, and I thought it was very tense and emotional and set the stage very well for the ultimate conclusion to the story. I also felt like they picked a fine place to put the split.

Some of the overarching themes involve the rebels' use of Katniss almost as a tool for their propaganda, and the uncomfortable parallel of putting her in danger to enhance the emotional appeal of their propos, and the Hunger Games, which pits kids against each other for the Capitol's entertainment. Also, the tenuous connection between Katniss and Gale, and Katniss' newfound feelings for Peeta (that developed in the last movie) do a very good job, I think, at setting up the story's conclusion, in terms of romance (and not the fairy tale kind). Speaking of Peeta, the scene where he lets slip an important part of the Capitol's plans was terribly exciting!

My favorite parts of the movie probably revolved around the propos. On the one hand, I totally appreciated the value of making Katniss' feelings genuine, in order to create truly moving propaganda pieces. I like the idea - and this is developed more in the books, where the reader can get more inside of her head - that Katniss is not good at putting out a superficial image of being some kind of hero, but that what makes people look up to her is the fierce righteousness inside of her, which is spontaneous and cannot be ordered around.

On the other side, I felt that President Snow's reactions and counter-reactions to the propos and the rebels' attacks were also intelligent and compelling. Especially in the end of this first part, concerning (spoilers ahead!) the rebels' attempt at rescuing Peeta from the Capitol, and how expertly Snow turned that act so totally against them. This is a minor quibble, but I thought the movie could have ended on a far more incendiary cliffhanger if they had cut out after Peeta got knocked out trying to strangle Katniss, and then switched to a final propo from the Capitol featuring Katniss' recorded desperate confession of defeat.

(End spoilers)

All in all, I thought it was an exciting movie, completely on par with the quality of Catching Fire. It's too bad the first movie wasn't as good, but it's clear that bringing director Francis Lawrence on board was a good move. I have every confidence that the final installment will hold up to the standard of quality we've now come to expect in this series, and I can't wait to see the exciting conclusion!

Snowpiercer (2013)

When a film like Disney's Frozen gets a lot of hype, I reserve my enthusiasm. But when an international film that couldn't get released in America because they refused to edit it down for dumber audiences starts receiving a whole lot of buzz, I sit up and take notice. Snowpiercer is a post-apocalyptic sci-fi dystopia story, and it's really well done. It's smart, it's exciting, and it's engrossing. It's well-written, well-acted, and well-directed. It's one of the best new movies I've seen in years.

Here's the quick and dirty plot synopsis: mankind plunges the planet into a new ice age as the result of a misguided effort to combat global warming. 17 or so years later, the only humans left alive are the passengers on a large train designed to withstand the cold. They now make up a closed and (relatively) sustainable ecosystem, except that the discontent of the lower class passengers relegated to the tail end of the train is brewing into a revolution to take over the engine (the seat of power on the train).

I know the basic set up of a dystopia where you sympathize with the oppressed class is something of a cliche (I'd like to see a movie about a utopia that actually works, but I guess there wouldn't be much drama), but this movie does a fantastic job of humanizing and empathizing with those lower class characters, and then subsequently showing both the excitement of revolution, but also the violence and the real human toll it takes when your friends start dying all around you. And then you have to ask yourself the question, is the cost worth it? Do we continue forward, or fall back and count our losses?

There are several very exciting, and also several very heartwarming scenes scattered throughout the movie, which is as action-packed as it is dramatic. I obviously don't want to spoil too much, but the climax is fantastically engineered, and has much to say about both the nature of humanity, and what it takes to keep a system running, which then begs the question of whether or not the survival of the human race is a noble goal after all. There are shades of the Architect from The Matrix: Reloaded, and also a scene that recalls to me a similar scene from Metal Gear Solid (I say, to tempt you with a little intrigue).

But mostly, I just want to say that this is a fantastic movie. You have to see it.

Divergent (2014)

My roommate, who is an avid moviegoer, went to see Divergent today, and I decided to tag along. I'll be honest, I was ready to write Divergent off as a Hunger Games clone, but I'm glad I gave it a try, because I really enjoyed it. In fact, I probably liked it more than the first Hunger Games movie (but not the second). I liked it enough I'd even go and watch it again.

Sci-fi dystopia stories are a dime a dozen - it's true - but then again, I guess you could say the same about any genre, including horror. Divergent takes place in a part-ravaged, part-technologically advanced post-apocalyptic war-torn Chicago, within which survivors have created a haven separated from the unnamed dangers that lurk beyond the wall built at the city limits.

The society is split into five factions: Abnegation, consisting of the selfless, who help others; Dauntless, which breeds soldiers and enforcers; Erudite, the intelligentia and scientists; Amity, the members of which tend the fields and value kindness above all other virtues; and Candor, who are servants of truth and honesty. When a person in this society reaches maturity, they must make a decision as to which faction they will join.

Naturally, there is some tension between the factions, but more importantly, the existence of "divergents" - people who do not conform to a single faction - are viewed as a lethal threat to the smooth running of the system. Enter Beatrice "Tris" Prior, a girl raised in the Abnegation faction, who nevertheless associates more with the Dauntless, and soon finds out that she is one of these divergents.

I thought Divergent did a good job of telling a fairly confined story, while serving as the preface to further conflict in what is, like The Hunger Games, based on a trilogy of novels. I liked the main characters: Shailene Woodley was both pretty and emotive as the primary protagonist; Theo James did a great job of portraying the tough but sensitive love interest; and Kate Winslet channeled a chilling detachment for the divergent-hunter who would pay any price to keep the system running.

I'll be looking forward to seeing where the story heads in future installments.

Catching Fire (2013)

Catching Fire is much better than the first installment of The Hunger Games. It's almost like magic. Something about The Hunger Games just didn't come together, and so I found myself quibbling over all the little problems the movie had. But Catching Fire is so good, none of those things mattered anymore.

I wasn't caught up in the casting of the characters, because what they were doing and saying were more important than all that - you could say I got lost in the characters and forgot about the actors playing them, which is what a good movie should accomplish. The ridiculous fashions of the Capitol didn't bother me as much, either - I actually started to like them (even Effie became likable).

Katniss' interview dress was a lot more impressive (and emotionally effective) this time around, too. And, thankfully, the Capitol grunts weren't just fruity like before, but were finally intimidating - as they should be - with their brutal reaction to the growing resistance in the outlying Districts. The ridiculous shaky cam in the first movie was also absent here, which is a great relief.

How much of all of this is due to the new writers and director, and how much is due to the story itself (The Hunger Games is tasked with introducing this unfamiliar world to its audience, while Catching Fire is free to focus on developing the rising conflict), I don't know. But in Catching Fire, the stakes are much higher, and it shows, and it is a much more powerful and effecting story than The Hunger Games was.

Jennifer Lawrence, too, is much better as the newly-crowned Victor Katniss, evoking more of the haunted pathos of the character than she did last time. They even managed to make the rather abrupt ending work out well, leaving, as it does, the audience clamoring for the next installment of the series, where the revolution inevitably explodes and everything will eventually come to a head.

I'm a lot more excited to see Mockingjay now than I was to see Catching Fire after watching The Hunger Games. But having been so thrilled with the second installment of the series, I'm going to go out and see it again - it's just that good. It's not that often you go out to a movie and get a real, thrilling experience. It's what you always hope for, but so rarely get. I hope they're able to keep it up for the two-part conclusion to the series.

The Hunger Games (2012)

It's ironic that I never wrote a proper review for The Hunger Games after I saw it the first time, the day it came out. Because when I read the novel it's based on, I had originally decided that, since this is more of a movie review blog than a book review blog, I would just wait for the movie to come out so I could review it, and refer back to the novel to make comparisons. But then I ended up writing a review for the book, and then when the movie came out, I didn't write a review for it!

Part of the reason for that was because I didn't really know what to say about the movie - I was too caught up with comparing it to the book to really appreciate it on its own merits. But with the second movie - Catching Fire - finally coming out, I thought I'd go back and watch the first one again, now that it's been so long since I've read the book. And yet, I still find myself getting caught up with comparing the movie to the book. Honestly, I think the biggest problem with this movie is that the book it was based on is just soo good.

I mean, it's an ambitious movie - the whole sci-fi dystopia thing, with a strong emphasis on action and human pathos. It's obvious that the film-makers went to a lot of trouble to create a futuristic world - complete with the drastic dichotomy between the starving residents of the poor districts and the fashionable socialites of the Capitol (although there is no excuse for the liberal use of shaky cam, especially in the earliest scenes in this movie). And it works. It's a great story. It builds to an exciting climax, and it hits some powerful emotional notes.

Yet, it doesn't ring quite as true to me as the book did. To me, the casting of a lot of the characters seems slightly off - which is another irony, given that I was convinced Jennifer Lawrence was the perfect choice for Katniss Everdeen, after seeing her in gritty, independent movies like Winter's Bone and The Poker House. But she doesn't seem as put-upon in this movie, in a role that demands it as much as any of her others.

Similarly, the poverty-stricken District 12 doesn't have as much authenticity or character as it did in the book. And Gale seems like more of a teen heartthrob than a rugged woodsman. I understand that The Hunger Games' primary audience is 12 year old girls, but the book is the true source of that appreciation, and I found its brilliance to be based on deeper foundations than such superficial appeals.

And the Capitol residents just look ridiculous. I realize this is at least partially (if not entirely) intentional, because part of the whole point is that the residents of the Capitol are so pretentious and full of themselves, that they'll devour the most ridiculous looking fashions and wear them with a straight face. And that there is some poignancy in the juxtaposition of the cruelty of watching children die for entertainment, and treating it as lightly as Monday night football. But for a sci-fi dystopia society, they just aren't very intimidating.

President Snow, for his part, looks way too kind and fatherly - I pictured him clean-shaven and with a sterner-looking face. And Caesar Flickerman is too boisterous, his charisma doesn't succeed like it does in the book (here, he could be easily mocked, but the most chilling aspect of his character in the book is that his sincerity feels genuine, in spite of the role he plays in these children's traumatic deaths).

During the Games themselves, the mutts have entirely the wrong look - as if the CG team opted to capitalize on the pun in their name instead of emphasizing their more frightening wolf-like aspects, meanwhile completely ignoring their most terrifying attribute - the eyes (although, to be fair, that element might be hard to get across in a movie).

It's inevitable that when a book is adapted to a movie, changes will be made. What's ironic is that The Hunger Games works better as a book than a Hollywood spectacle. But what makes the story great is that it's about so much more than a juvenile deathmatch. A movie is not introspective enough, and doesn't have the time to really get inside its character's head, and bring the world of its setting to life.

In the end, The Hunger Games just doesn't have the impact, the intelligence, and the perfectly calculated rhythm of the book it was based on. I'm still looking forward to seeing the rest of the series, but if you had to make a choice, you're much better off reading the book. And I'm not just saying that as a book snob, who thinks the book is always better than the movie; I'm saying that as someone who spends a lot more hours watching movies than reading books.

Equilibrium (2002)

I recently dusted off (literally) and rewatched a DVD I have in my collection - the movie Equilibrium, which seems to want to bill itself as a competitor to The Matrix, but, whatever stylistic similarities they may share, the movie fares better when you're not trying to compare it to the most awesome sci-fi movie ever made. Anyway, The Matrix is a mind-fucker, Equilibrium is more of a traditional dystopian flick. But it's a really good one.

The premise requires a certain level of suspension of disbelief, but if you're not sitting there trying to poke holes in it, I think it's both fun to watch, and also has a lot to say about human nature and the importance of art. The idea is that, in this near future society, ravaged by the effects of a third world war, humanity has agreed (with the urging of a charismatic leader, affectionately labeled "Father") to sacrifice the dizzying highs of human emotion in order to eliminate the abysmal lows, which inevitably lead to the atrocities that man commits upon himself - most notably, war.

So, the population of this "enlightened" nation, Libria, is regularly dosed with a drug called Prozium, which reduces their capacity to feel (emotions). Anyone caught skipping their doses or otherwise displaying feelings is charged as a "sense offender" and is sentenced to execution. The state's most talented soldiers, known as Grammaton Clerics, trained in the art of gun kata - which is like martial arts with guns, using stances based on statistical predictions to optimize both the practitioner's survival and hit rates - are trained to locate sense offenders, and are regularly deployed outside the walls of Librium to mop up pockets of resistance and burn the artifacts of culture (e.g., literature, paintings, symphonies) they're often found to hoard.

Christian Bale is excellent as Librium's premiere Grammaton Cleric, displaying subtle nuances of feeling underneath his cold, emotionless exterior, as the story follows his introduction to the world of sense offending, and his struggle to hide his little acts of rebellion until they eventually grow into a conviction to try and sabotage Father's censurious regime. The movie is expertly balanced between scenes of action and drama, and I found it to be especially moving as an art lover. Even to a jaded postmodernist, I felt that it managed to effectively evoke the beauty of a Da Vinci painting, a Beethoven symphony, a W.B. Yeats poem. And one of the most touching scenes hinged on the beauty of something we so often take for granted - the simple rising of the sun.

Taken at face value, it seems a little unrealistic to believe that society would (could) ever stamp out human feeling to this level, but, honestly, we're not so far off from a world that would, like in the movie's opening, destroy a man's life for looking at a picture of a girl. We already embrace censorship, we just defend it by believing that its selective application is justified. The censorship of all art is thus a dishonest projection (if a valid warning) of the current state of fear; nevertheless, it's a captivating nightmare vision, and it makes you think about the importance of art as a record of human experience, and how dangerous to the very core of humanity a regime of censorship truly is.

Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins

Warning! This review contains spoilers from the very end of The Hunger Games trilogy! For a spoiler-free introduction to the trilogy, see my review of The Hunger Games.

Having now finished the series, I am happy to report that The Hunger Games maintains its pace of drama and excitement through to the very end. In fact, the climax is probably even more exciting than Katniss' first foray into The Hunger Games, and the conclusion seems to hint at the story's underlying conscience. The writing in these books is so good in a way that you don't often come across - in that it is both highly entertaining, and also very intelligent and insightful, probing the nature of the human condition and asking some very difficult questions.

Like the age old question of what's fair in love and war, what sort of atrocities can be justified, and where you cross the line between self-defense and becoming like the enemy that oppresses you. But there is no easy answer. Gale's anger sometimes feels righteous, then seems to cross the line. Katniss makes some stupid decisions that put her at risk, yet you welcome her moral compass. Ultimately it's clear that war is a terrible, terrible thing, but what isn't clear is whether we can ever truly escape it.

But one of the most disturbing revelations, for me, regards the nature of entertainment. Lines are blurred in Mockingjay, when the war itself becomes a sort of Hunger Games. The propos (propaganda spots) that the rebels create have a clear tactical purpose, yet their effectiveness relies on their entertainment value. And it's instantly discovered by those behind the scenes that staged emotions aren't as exciting as the real thing. So Katniss is put in real danger in order to get good footage. And then later, in the warring streets of the Capitol, it's almost as if the rebels are in the position of the Gamemakers (and I'm sure it's no coincidence with Plutarch being around), realizing that in order to stir up some enthusiasm with their propos, some blood's going to have to be shed. It's chilling, really.

And at the end, in the epilogue, Katniss makes her statement on the games, and I want so badly to believe in the righteousness of that statement, but then I can't help realizing that I've been as bad as the smarmy Capitol residents, calling out for blood, all in the name of good entertainment. After all, The Hunger Games would not be nearly as entertaining if not for the horrors it depicts. Prim's death was the one thing I almost couldn't stand. Almost. It destroyed me, and I was really angry that it happened. But afterward, you still have to admit that it makes the story that much more intense. That it will stick with you for that reason, because it wasn't afraid to pull any punches.

But if there's one consolation, it's that in the real world, I think staged entertainment is just as effective as the real thing. More so, probably. Because in a book, when a character you love dies, it's very sad. But it's still just a character. You can move on. It's like what happens in real life, but on a much smaller scale, because you only knew her for those several weeks you were reading the book, and only in those moments. She's not someone you've known all your (or her) life, and you only know of her what the author has given you. In real life, when people die (especially violently), the horror and the sadness greatly outweighs whatever sick entertainment (if any, really) one could glean from it.

And so I can at least rest assured in the knowledge that though I enjoy reading The Hunger Games (and can't wait for the movies!), it doesn't make me like the Capitol in the story. However, the lingering question that does remain, is the question of war. War still rages on in the real world, and we don't seem to be any closer to ending it forever. Despite the clarity of its horrors - at least to me - on it goes. Just as Plutarch alludes to. I don't know how to solve that one.

Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins

Warning! This review contains spoilers from the first two books of The Hunger Games trilogy. For a spoiler-free introduction to the trilogy, see my review of The Hunger Games.

The Hunger Games continues in book two of the trilogy. After the excitement of the first book, I was curious (though not doubtful) to see if the second book could successfully continue the momentum of the story. It starts off relatively slow (with a few punctuated moments of excitement), even as the first book did, but picks up to at least as exciting a crescendo as the first book, if not more so.

In the beginning I was wondering what this book would cover, since in the first, we had already been treated to an occasion of the Hunger Games. That's when the Victory Tour came in, and I was thinking, oh, hey, this'll be a great opportunity to introduce each of the districts! But the author didn't quite have that in mind, and instead, moved quickly through the Victory Tour and on to even more exciting events that follow it.

Nevertheless, the scene where Katniss speaks to District 11 was one of the most touching in the book, and the following public execution of "the whistler" was one of my favorite scenes, as it so brutally - and for me unexpectedly - brought home the point that hey, the Capitol is ruthless and dangerous, remember? In the first book, there was almost a sense of distance between the Capitol's residents (some of which, like Cinna and his crew, were actually likable) and the brutality they sponsored (i.e., the Hunger Games themselves), that you almost couldn't reconcile the two, and you had to ask the question, if these people are generally decent, how can they possibly support the Hunger Games? It didn't quite add up.

Here, in Catching Fire, you get to see more of the bureaucracy, particularly in President Snow himself, who personally embodies the calculated brutality of the games, and he at least offers some explanation for the Capitol's support of the games, in that the subjugation of the districts is required for the entire nation to continue running smoothly. However, of course, you have to be skeptical of the tyrant's word, and consider that he probably just relishes his power - forcing the poor districts to labor for the convenience of the rich Capitol - as well he probably has a sadistic streak that he enjoys being able to get away with exerting. But then, of course, you come to the conclusion that the majority of the Capitol residents are probably not so brutal or politically minded, and have probably been duped by censorship and propaganda, and bought off with the comforts that the twelve district's labor laboriously produces.

Which brings us to the interviews for the Quarter Quell. But before that, I'll admit that I was shocked when it became clear that Katniss would go back into the arena. When the topic of the Quell came up, I thought, oh, hey, there's an idea, there'll be another Hunger Games in this book! And since it's this "Quarter Quell" thing, it'll be even more bombastic than the last one! But I still didn't think Katniss would return. I figured she'd probably mentor, and the President would probably do something specific to torture her, like force Prim into the arena this time. But, as it becomes clear by the end of the book, Snow's overconfidence in his own power, leading to the decision to put previous Games' victors back in the arena, was a huge mistake.

The interviews before the Games have always managed to be surprisingly climactic, and while the last games' interviews were spot on, these ones for the Quell were unbelievable. Totally brilliant, the way they managed to turn the Games around, and play off their (especially Katniss & Peeta) popularity to practically turn the Capitol's residents itself against the Capitol. So totally inspiring. And even though they still had to go back in the arena (quite exciting once again, and with a very different flavor than the last Games), in the end their solidarity paid off.

It's funny, but as I was getting towards the end of the book, and the Games relentlessly continued on, I started thinking to myself, there's only so many pages left, there's no way they can wrap up the Games that fast, unless something drastic is going to happen. And then, as the other tributes failed to die off quickly enough, I started worrying that maybe Katniss was actually going to die in these Games, and that would be the abrupt ending of the book. A horrifying thought, and though that isn't what happened, the ending to the Games was indeed abrupt, but very exciting.

And now the shit has really hit the fan. The rebellion is on for sure. I love the symbolism of the mockingjay, even as Katniss has spent so much time blissfully ignorant of its meaning, and the significance of her part in the whole 'game' (the rebels' game). And the idea that the mysterious District 13, the alleged secret underground base for the rebels, used to deal in nuclear development is too exciting to write off as the hopeful delusion of the desperate. I'm confident that the final book in the trilogy will offer an exciting and fitting conclusion to this story, but it remains (to me) to be seen who will survive and how the world will fare, for better or worse, when the dust clears.

The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins

It only took me over a decade to jump onto the Harry Potter fandom bandwagon, and only just in time to catch up with the series before its triumphant finish (that is, the film series' triumphant finish). Then again, with all of its momentum (seven titles in the series, at least four of the books over 600 pages in length), "jumping into" Harry Potter in the middle of its reign over popular culture was a commitment requiring considerable (albeit rewarding) effort. Well, now another popular book series is being adapted to the silver screen (premiering in March!), and with just three modestly sized titles, it's much less daunting. So I'm getting in while it's fresh, though largely at the behest of my brother who rates it as one of the best series of books he's ever read, up there with Harry Potter.

Naturally, you're gonna have some expectations with hype like that, and since I respect my brother's taste (and recommendations), I had no fear of being disappointed. But opening up The Hunger Games, the first book in the series, I couldn't help issuing a silent challenge to the book, akin to whispering into its leafy pages, "show me what you've got!" And I still wasn't disappointed. There's very little to criticize about The Hunger Games. It's well written. It's a very engaging story, with characters you can relate to, and a tempered love affair that feels - in spite of its context - far more real than the typical romantic fiction of death-do-us-part passion. It's got lots of action, but none of it is mindless. In fact, the story is driven by an intellectual backbone of socio-political commentary, but in a matter-of-fact way that is not the least bit pedantic. It doesn't drill its morality into you, it merely presents an immoral world and allows you to position yourself by your reaction to the effects it has on its very human inhabitants. There's plenty of pathos here - more than one section had me genuinely tearing up. And the length and pacing is comfortable; the book spends enough time on personal and cultural details to bring you into its world, but is constantly moving towards the next great scene or revelation, which is always (to an impressive extent) impeccably engineered.

In sum, it's a whole lot of fun to read, and it doesn't require a huge time commitment. As such, I would heartily recommend it to just about anyone. Unless, I suppose, you're the type of person who would cringe at the very mention of a fictional society that would enthusiastically (and sadistically) rally around a sporting event that pits children (technically, adolescents) against each other in a brutal fight to the death while simultaneously braving the elements of a deadly wilderness arena. It's Survivor meets Battle Royale, where the futuristic dystopia recalls echoes of the gladiators of the Roman Empire. The Hunger Games drops you into an unbalanced society where the lower class inhabitants of twelve outlying Districts scattered across what was once North America are so oppressed that, while struggling daily for survival, they can do naught but sit by and watch as the wealthy, technologically-advanced Capitol remorselessly slaughters their children for entertainment. But rather than condoning these "hunger" games, the narrative follows the perspective of one of its unfortunate contestants, who is nevertheless uniquely poised to give the Capitol a show they won't soon forget. And as the story finally builds to its inevitable climax, I am left wanting to know: what will part two of the trilogy have in store - both for us, and for the unfortunate inhabitants of this frightening world?

THX 1138 (1971)

THX 1138 is George Lucas' first film, and is a sci-fi dystopian story. It is a future where people are sedated by drugs, policed by androids, and instructed to consume for happiness. "Buy more, buy more now - buy, and be happy." It's not an exciting, action-packed film - it actually does a good job of sedating the viewer, to an extent; the bored, disjointed atmosphere kind of creeps into you. Some of it may be confusing, and further reading (of discussions) can help - one comment by a fan that helped my appreciation for the film is that it's like a foreign film, in terms of it being a futuristic film that doesn't go out of its way to explain itself to modern day viewers. You might not fully understand all of the rituals, and some of the terminology may be unfamiliar, but you can get a gist of what's going on. And the vision, the vision of this bland, sterile future, is executed well. All in all, it's an interesting story of one man's attempt to escape to freedom from this passively oppressive society, after becoming awakened to his basic humanity due to an illegal reduction in his pill-taking responsibilities. Not a flawless film, but an inspired production worth taking a look at, if you're a film buff or a sci-fi geek, or just a dedicated fan of George Lucas (this film is a world away from Star Wars).