A Hunger Games Hipster’s Review of the Midnight Showing

"May the odds be ever in your favor."

Rating: A

The Hunger Games is one of those rare movies that are not only equal to but outdo the books they are based upon. The material is nearly handled with perfection here.

*spoiler-free review*

The Buildup

I suppose I could claim to be a bit of a Hunger Games hipster.

I don’t remember where I first heard of the book, probably a blog site, but it was accompanied by a claim that it was “One of the Best Books of 2008.” If I was skeptical of the claim, the concept at least sounded interesting, so I got it from my public library.

In June 2009, I read it in one day. It’s an easy yet gripping read, so I’m sure many others have had a similar experience.  I groaned out loud at the end of the book. It was just so good, and I was more than a little in love with Peeta Mellark…

Has anyone else read this book? Does anyone else love it? I wondered. Yes, there were the obligatory fansites.  A search on Facebook only showed that the sister of one of my friends listed it among her favorite books. None of my other friends had even heard of it.

Flashforward 2.5 years and 2 sequels later. Somehow, back when I was reading the book on my grandma’s couch on that sticky summer day, I never predicted I’d be waiting in line at the theater at midnight dressed as Foxface (a character choice based entirely on my vaguely-reddish hair color, I assure you).  I went mainly to have fun with my friends and to make up for the fact that I had sadly never been to a Harry Potter midnight premiere. My two close friends, who I shall dub Blonde and Brunette, went as Effie Trinket and Katniss, respectively. Brunette sewed Blonde an outrageous magenta dress, complete with fake flowers. It was over-the-top and completely perfect as far as I was concerned.

The theater was packed full of teenage girls dressed as Katniss or wearing “Team Peeta” T-shirts.  They seemed to pay rapt attention to the screen, except when necessary to giggle like crazy at any hint of romance or to sob without inhibitions (those who have read the book, you know exactly which part I’m talking about). Aside from some of the silliness, I enjoyed seeing a movie with such an engaged audience.

That’s Cool, But Get to the Review Already

So, how was the movie itself? It was great. I count it among those rare films that are not only equal to but outdo the books they are based upon. The material is nearly handled with perfection here. The movie follows the book very closely, but is able to escape the constraints of Katniss’s first-person narration. We see the devious Gamemakers at work in their high-tech control room, unleashing misery upon the contestants. Haymitch courts sponsors, and Seneca Crane interacts with President Snow. Backstory is revealed in well-placed flashbacks. Overall, the book was well-adapted for the screen.

The acting largely exceeded my expectations. If I had one complaint about Jennifer Lawrence, it is that she looks (and her low voice sounds) a little too old for the part. It’s a small qualm, as she is excellent as Katniss, making her into the sympathetic character she is in the first book. Initially, I was not happy to hear that Josh Hutcherson was going to play Peeta, but he grew on me as the film progressed. He didn’t blow me away, but he did a very adequate job. The Capital characters (Caesar, Effie, Cinna) and the tributes all felt note-perfect.

The beginning gets off to a slow start, opening with brief, jerky camera shots of District 12, a filming style that threatened to give me a headache. However, things swiftly pick up once Katniss and Peeta reach the Capital. All the environments feel like they should, from poverty-stricken District 12 to the outlandish colors of the Capital’s citizens. The tension builds as the tributes prepare to enter the arena and the action takes off at breakneck speed and rarely slows down. For some reason, the end feels slightly anticlimactic, and the resolution is rather paltry as though the filmmakers were running out of time. Like the book, the ending leaves room for the second installment, though in the film the characters’ situation ends on a (very) slightly more upbeat note.

The portrayal of violence was a pretty crucial element to the film, and it’s clear the director had this firmly in mind. A lot of the killing is shown in quick, shaky cutaway shots. The final conflict was also much more violent in the book, but was toned down for the screen, which I didn’t mind one bit. It’s clear the intent was to stay in the PG-13 zone, and also not to glorify the  violence (which would be an epic case of missing the point). What violence is shown more directly made me feel shocked, sad, or slightly sick – which was exactly what it was meant to do. However, I was slightly disturbed at one point by the audience reaction. When one evil tribute was brutally killed by another tribute, many in the audience applauded. It alarmed me that people thought any of the killings deserved applause, even the death of a cruel tribute.

The Hunger Games is a very dark series, and the movie is no different. I like to spend most of my time in less dire fictional universes (i.e. Harry Potter and Star Wars, for a start). However, THG is an interesting place to visit whether on the page or on the screen, and you’ll no doubt leave with a few things to ponder about our own world.

Review: North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell

“North and South has both met and made kind o’ friends in this big smoky place.”

Summary: After spending several years with her aunt and cousin, nineteen-year-old Margaret Hale has just returned to her beloved Helstone, a village in rural Southern England. Her life seemingly falls to pieces when her father, the village vicar, announces that he is breaking from the Church. He relocates the family North to the smoky, dirty industrial town of Milton. While Margaret tries to adjust to her new way of life, she becomes acquainted with John Thornton, a cotton mill owner. Misunderstandings and opposing opinions mean that the two start butting heads right away. Even as Margaret grows closer to an impoverished family of mill workers, she finds there’s more to John Thornton than meets the eye.

Review:  A few months ago, I found myself watching a trailer for a 2004 BBC miniseries called North and South. It looked intriguing and had stellar reviews, but being the typical English major, I had to read the book first!

With a vision of Richard Armitage in my head as Thornton, I began to read. (For some reason, I pictured Michelle Dockery as Margaret). I’m not sure if it was just the way the book pulled me in, or the dangling carrot of getting to eventually watch the miniseries, but I could barely put the book down once I got started. My Kindle edition didn’t have page numbers, so I was rather shocked when I looked up how long the book was in print after I had finished it. Apparently I have a lot more free time than I thought if I was able to get through a 500 page novel in just over a week.

Think of this book as a much more serious version of Pride and Prejudice. (EDIT: For a more detailed comparison, check out Beverly Farr’s post). There’s not as much witty banter, but there’s deep probing of  social and economic issues, religion, and familial love, among other themes. At the heart of the novel is the conflict between the relentless march of industrialization and the idyllic lifestyle of traditional England.

As an outsider to Milton, Margaret is in a position to hear both sides of the debate about the mills. Members of a workers’ union think arranging a strike is the only way to get their arbitrary bosses to raise their wages. In contrast, Thornton argues that he’s bound by economic trends that the rabble-rousers just wouldn’t understand. A clash between the two groups is eminent.

Can such different mindsets be reconciled? In the end, Gaskell’s answer is “yes.” What saves us is our mutual humanity, and the ability to see someone as a fellow, equal human being, no matter how our lives differ.

Gaskell’s characterizations are excellent. From the two leads to the cast of supporting characters, all have multiple facets which are revealed as the novel progresses. I found Thornton’s mother, and her relationship to her son, to be especially fascinating.

Fans of Austen’s more upbeat works be warned: the novel does have a rather gloomy tone at times. There’s always hope, but I began to share in some of Margaret’s weariness by the end of the book. Without giving away too much, you definitely get a sense of the less-than-stellar life expectancy during the Victorian era. There’s really not much humor.

In short: A strong-willed heroine and a brooding male lead in a combative relationship is good formula for a gripping read. Add in an insightful view of issues in mid-19th century England, and you’ll come away from North and South feeling like you’ve gained something by reading it. Looking forward to watching the miniseries!

Rating: 4 out of 5 stars.

Something similar: For the romance aspect, Jane Austen, especially Pride and Prejudice. For the social commentary, Charles Dickens, or possibly Les Miserables by Victor Hugo, an abridged version of which is currently sitting in my TBR pile.

Where I got the book: Free on Kindle. The formatting was rather atrocious at times, though. Some footnotes may have been nice, especially when there was dialogue by a member of the working class. His speech is written phonetically and with slang, which of course adds realism but was pretty hard to understand at some points.

Review: The Jumbee by Pamela Keyes

Summary: The life of Esti Legard changes drastically when her father, a world-renowned stage actor, dies of cancer. Looking for a new life, she and her hippie mother move to Cariba for her senior year of high school. Facing a prima donna vying for the attention of talent scouts, Esti gets involved in a stage production of Romeo and Juliet. A phantom voice from the darkened stage begins coaching Esti, and as a murder and other disturbing events begin to occur, Esti wonders if she can trust this “jumbee” (West Indian word for ghost). Things get even more complicated when her childhood-friend-turned-bad-boy Rafe comes into the picture, and it’s unclear whether this drama will end in tragedy…

Review:  Considering what I’ve been involved in recently, this book was quite a serendipitous find for me. Over the summer I saw The Phantom of the Opera on Broadway for the first time, went to see my university’s…experimental production of Romeo and Juliet, and heard a director/actor who worked with the Royal Shakespeare Company speak in my theatre analysis class. After that, it was difficult not to imagine him as Esti’s charismatic British father!

All this being said, I think this book is a lot more enjoyable for people who love and are familiar with The Phantom of the Opera (and can at least tolerate Romeo and Juliet). The plot and characters loosely follow the plot of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s musical, but I became so engrossed in the story that pages would fly by before I realized “Oh! This character is Madame Giry” or “This is the Masquerade scene!” Finding the parallels between the musical and this book were a large part of the fun. Some of the connections were subtle (Esti’s real name) and some were a bit…much. For instance: “She saw endless volumes of Shakespeare, and classic literature as timeless as Straparalo and Leroux.” Gaston Leroux is of course the author of the original novel The Phantom of the Opera. But is this world like BBC’s modern-day series Sherlock, where the Arthur Conan Doyle stories never existed?  Does Leroux’s Phantom actually exist in the world but the characters don’t notice all the parallels? The author is clearly winking at the reader, but it’s more confusing than clever.

The West Indian setting and culture make for a very unique retelling of the story, and though the backstory of the “ghost” is slightly hard to follow on the first read, it’s definitely original. The problem with a modern version of Phantom is that the reason for the “haunting” requires a certain suspension of disbelief, but I felt largely willing to cooperate with this. Those who find Christine’s actions frustrating at points of the musical will likely get frustrated at Esti as well, but overall she is a likeable heroine, and her complex relationship with her famous father rings true. Her “phantom” is appropriately mysterious, pitiable and charming by turns, and the transformation of occasionally-foppish Raoul into an edgier, bad-boy character is a great spin on the original.

As always, I do have a few nits to pick. I wasn’t overly fond of the way that Ms. Keyes wrote dialogue. The high school students’ “teen-speak” felt forced. Although the “jumbee” and Esti are “theatre people” and like to quote Shakespeare, their conversations usually seemed strangely stilted, dramatic and formal.

Another thing – though I’m a sworn hater of love triangles, the romantic dynamics of Phantom have always been one of the most interesting aspects of the story to me. Keyes handles this pretty well, but through much of the book Esti seems obsessed with getting a kiss from one guy or the other. She switches back and forth so much, it seems as though either one would do for her – she just needs to be kissed. Even for a hormonal teenage girl, it was too much at times.

This is completely random, but the novel opens with the line “Paul is dead!” I immediately assumed that this was meant to be a humorous reference to the Beatles urban legend, but no, a character named Paul has actually just died tragically. I don’t know if the author meant to connect to the Beatles intentionally or not. Perhaps my love of that band is distorting my perceptions…

In short: Perfect for fans (phans?) of The Phantom of the Opera or just theatre in general, The Jumbee is an enjoyable, romantic read that had me turning pages at a rapid pace.

Rating: 4 out of 5 stars.

Something similar: Of course, the original novel The Phantom of the Opera by Gaston Leroux is a must read. It’s a strange and haunting book, but it’s a classic. My Phantom: The Memoir of Christine Daae by Anstance Tamplin is a retelling of the novel that changes a whole lot but is a great take on the story. For Shakespeare fans, check out the trilogy beginning with Wondrous Strange by Lesley Livingston.

Cover & Title: The title makes sense with the context of the novel, but I’m guessing that most Americans (myself included) would have no idea what a “jumbee” is. The mask, piercing blue eyes, and flowers are all tied into the story, but the cover feels a bit jumbled to me (no pun intended). Something simpler without so many visual elements would have been more aesthetically pleasing.

Where I got the book: Shelves of the local library.