Plays more to the emotions than to the mind, but what it does, it does well

Rating: 8/10 (11 December 2013)

Suzanne Collins' novel The Hunger Games was both a thrilling and moving survival story and, more importantly, a profound and deeply disturbing comment on the pervasive nature of political corruption and tyranny and the tragic futility of overzealous public revolution. The point of the both the novel and Gary Ross' impressive film adaptation was that mass uprisings achieve very little, but small, subtle, individual pieces of defiance can achieve a great deal. The political explorations were neatly contained within a depiction of the 74th Hunger Games of the film's title, and the open-ended conclusion was pleasingly thought provoking and self-sufficient.
By extending the story into a series of novels, the other two of which I had no desire to read, Collins allowed the astute observations of the first instalment to be overtaken by a radical, impassioned, crowd- pleasing thrust into sudden revolutionary fervour. This is all very rousing and genuinely involving in Francis Lawrence's film adaptation of the sequel Catching Fire, and, from what I hear, the novel successfully taps into the same rebellious zeal, but passively participating in a war between demonic bureaucrats and spunky, underdog insurgents from the lower classes is much less sophisticated and distinctive entertainment than watching a young victim of a dystopian regime balance prudent obedience and caution with stealthy personal defiance. Still, the merciless despotism of the Capitol and the opposing bravery of the insurgents are very convincingly portrayed. Watching this familiar story play out, we fully believe that no one is safe from being beaten, tortured or killed by the oppressive government, with the exception of Katniss, who is the obligatory 'chosen one' in this particular tale of good versus evil. As in the first film, the dangers inside the Hunger Games arena, which here include monstrous, carnivorous monkeys and a terrifying poisonous fog, are palpably menacing. The stakes are convincingly high and the violence of this film is much less sanitised than most Hollywood blockbusters.
Also, despite the radicalised political agenda, the story thankfully retains its focus on fully-fledged individual characters, rather than restricting the characters to a narrative toolbox of simplistic archetypes. Peeta, the sweet, selfless gentle giant, is as endearingly heroic and his portrayal by Josh Hutcherson as poignant as in the first film. Jennifer Lawrence also continues doing what she does best, and what won her an Oscar lost year: exuding engagingly vulnerable angst and cynicism as a calloused victim of circumstance who plays hard to get with the audience's sympathy. Her new struggles as a simple archer, big sister, surrogate mother and small-time rebel who has come to be seen as the figurehead and leader of a revolution are indeed very compelling. I certainly found myself sharing her every thought and feeling in her every scene, which is exactly what you want in a protagonist. Liam Hemsworth is once again effortlessly charming as Gale, who, on the other hand, hankers to be at the forefront of the imminent rebellion. The larger and much more active role that Gale is now starting to play gives us the chance to see a little more than mere charisma from Hemsworth as an actor. We also see much more of the coolly despicable and alarmingly observant President Snow as he begins to step out of the bureaucratic shadows and confront Katniss, and the political threat she poses, more openly and mercilessly and we get to see more of 78-year-old Donald Sutherland's effortlessly evil characterisation. It is also very satisfying to see that Effie Trinket, the aristocratic caricature that actor Elizabeth Banks and costume designer Judianna Makovsky entertainingly overplayed and overdressed in the first film, is given quite a few well-handled serious emotional moments this time around, and that Primrose (fine young actress Willow Shield) is showing signs of inheriting her sister's backbone and stealth.
This multitude of individual characters and interwoven subplots has now became the greatest asset and primary way of distinguishing between other epic tales of good and evil that ultimately converge at the same narrative and thematic point. When the destination is a given from the moment we have our sneering, sly old villain – Snow – and our feisty young chosen one – although Katniss is at least more interesting than an everywoman – the route taken to that irresistible beacon and the detours along the way is what sets these stories apart from one another and what gives us a reason to travel to the same place so many times.
The visual execution of this familiar story is also very commendable and entertaining. Once again, the flamboyant, loud colours and shapes with which the centre of the Capitol is painted brilliantly convey the suffocatingly immense wealth and power of our villains and streets and inhabitants of the impoverished District 12 appear convincingly grim and grisly, but not to the point where our heroes are no longer photogenic. The action scenes inside the arena are very well executed, being very impressively staged, designed and shot this time with omniscient clarity rather than in the chaotic, subjective style of the first film. However, from a narrative point of view, Catching Fire is far more subjective than its predecessor was. We are no longer invited to step back and holistically examine our own society and its history through objective futuristic allegory, but instead we are pulled in intimately close to these particular personal and political conflicts at a level of proximity that snuffs out objectivity as it preys on our emotional impulsivity.
Collins and Lawrence certainly succeed in making us emotionally invested and closely involved in the story, quickly and easily getting us to cheer and feel deeply for our heroes and to fear and despise the totalitarian antagonists. This kind of engagement with an audience might not be nearly as intellectual as the devices used earlier in the series, but the emotional subjectivity that has now taken over the series is undeniably just as entertaining and valid in its own way.