Far above its YA fiction competitors, Hunger Games is a strong start to a much anticipated trilogy

Rating: 8/10 (7 December 2014)

I should begin by saying I have never read any of the Hunger Games books, and given the number of other books that I'm currently required to read, I don't know if I will for quite a while. But after watching the first film adaptation, I very much want to, because they always say the book is better than the movie, and it would have to be a very good book to be better than this.
The story, which is surely familiar to most Americans of a certain age, is that in a distant future the people of North America rebelled against their government. The revolt was suppressed, and decades later the rebellious states, or districts, are governed as impoverished police states while the chosen few in the capitol enjoy every modern luxury. And to further punish rebellion and instill fear, every year each district must offer up one young man and one young woman as 'tributes' for the Hunger Games; a latter day gladiatorial competition that is also the entertainment event of the year throughout the land.
Most of these 'tributes' are chosen by lottery. Others volunteer, either because they've been trained for it from an early age, or so that someone close to them won't have to. Katniss Everdeen is one of the latter. She volunteered to enter the competition after her much younger sister was chosen. As an older teen and experienced hunter, she'll have better chances than most, but the odds are certainly not "Ever in her favor." Her male counterpart is Peeta, a local boy who is roughly the same age but has only a fraction of her skills. If they win they'll be treated as heroes. If they die, they're just two more victims.
This movie is extremely violent for a film based on a youth novel. But the violence is anything but casual or gratuitous. It stops well short of being as brutal as it could be; this is after all a PG-13 movie. But neither is it something that happens and is quickly passed over, nor are the deaths of Katniss and Peeta's rivals cause for celebration. Because really there are no 'bad guys', or at least they're not the ones fighting. The young people in the games, even the most ruthless and seemingly callous, are fighting and killing because they have to. They're not fighting to win a war, or for riches, or out of hatred for the other contestants. They're fighting because a tyrannical government makes them, and if they don't kill they will die.
Consequently many of the fight scenes are less like the Matrix or Lord of the Rings than Fight Club. They aren't stunningly choreographed showdowns between skilled combatants, but desperate, uncoordinated struggles between frightened, semi-trained youngsters who would rather be anywhere else. Some encounters are over in an instant; with Katniss's bow finding its mark just before her opponent can do likewise. Other fights are extremely physical, as combatants frantically grapple and strike untrained blows at each other like wild animals, driven by adrenaline and instinct to outlive their opponent.
Either way it is traumatic and tragic. Every time someone dies a family is losing their child, and every time Katniss kills she knows that she could just as easily been the one who died. In the Hunger Games victory means simply being alive, and knowing you had to do terrible things to stay that way. Katniss and Peeta's outcome was the best they could possibly have hoped for, but it's still no happy ending.
Besides the cruelty inherent in the games, what's striking is that for everyone in the capitol this is all a great show. The games aren't just a warning for the outlying districts; they are a grand spectacle on the scale of the Olympics or an awards show. Garishly dressed crowds cheer as the contestants are paraded before them. Top journalists interview the tributes on live TV. 'Sponsors' pay to make a limited number of airdrops to their favorite contestants. There's as much pomp and pageantry surrounding the games as a royal coronation.
And Katniss and the others have to play along, giving the correct responses, dressing the right way, doing everything they can to make the crowds love them and the government not view them as a problem, because the entire time they're on stage and the world is closely watching. We the viewers are also watching. The difference is that we know this is fiction and no one is really getting hurt, and even so we view the competition not glorious spectacle but as the cruelest of tragedies. Yet you have to wonder, if these were real people, if they were really dying, how many of us would still watch?