Weekly Review -- Killing the future

The Hunger Games (2012) -- A good adaptation of a popular novel is hard to find. An adaptation that is just as good as the source is almost nonexistent. With these thoughts invading my mind, I watched Gary Ross's interpretation of The Hunger Games, the first book in Suzanne Collins's celebrated trilogy. From its electrifying themes of oppression, greed, mortality and family to its heroic principal character, the novel is a fascinating read. The film is a faithful and eloquent rendition of the story, one that expands upon the main questions through the use of unique plot devices. 

**THIS REVIEW CONTAINS SPOILERS**

After the thirteenth district of the Panem dystopia is annihilated in a rebellion against the Capitol, the centre of power, sadistic president Snow (Donald Sutherland) thinks up the title event as punishment. Every year, a boy and a girl are chosen from each district to fight to the death in a specially designed arena, with one participant left standing. When teenage hunter Katniss Everdeen's (Jennifer Lawrence) little sister is chosen to represent District 12 as a so-called tribute, Katniss volunteers to go instead, knowing that her sister is unable to survive the ordeal. Along for the hellish ride is local baker's son Peeta Mellark (Josh Hutcherson), who might or might not have a few tricks up his sleeve. As they start training against stronger and more experienced fellow tributes, Katniss and Peeta cannot imagine that the games are about to change Panem forever...

It is not difficult to understand why The Hunger Games series has drawn such a rabid following. Its unflinching satire of the reality television craze and capitalist decadence revolves around a strong, honorable female character, presenting her as a pure soul in a world that has none. As is the case in the book, the film largely looks at the goings-on through Katniss's eyes, but also branches out via innovative techniques. It adds layers to the story we know by generating viewpoints and going behind the scenes, so to speak. What a perfect idea it was to have this grotesque show unfold under the watchful eye of the hosts and commentators, not to mention how bizarre it was seeing the "spectacle" from the control room. In fact, the cold brutality of the control room almost rivals the violence of the games themselves. These are people that are playing with children's lives as though solving a crossword puzzle, setting other human beings as pawns on their chess board and drafting moves without their consent. I could not help but notice the lack of accessories on one of the operators' hands, which made her seem void of personality and made her job even more heartless for me, if that was possible. It is this kind of physical and emotional battery that, combined with the resourcefulness of the rough-and-tumble heroine, turns the novel and the film into timely explorations of empathy and its edge. Ross does a great job staying true to the written word while tweaking the action for another dimension.

The most effective part of the narrative is its original and disturbing take on genocide, both as reality television entertainment and as the cruelest form of tyranny. By making the games mandatory viewing, the dictatorship controls the citizens; by systematically killing off the country's children, it controls the life cycle itself. Some of the competitors -- the Career Tributes -- are in training since birth, eking out their existence by the "kill or be killed" motto and moving forward for the mere sake of survival. Collins has created a merciless social and political critique that Ross has rendered visually palpable, turning tension into a constant companion for the principal players. There is no glamour here, only harsh judgments compounded by close-ups and documentary-style camerawork. It is fascinating that, in the ultimate meta twist, we the viewers are the watchers, our discomfort being a welcome reminder of our own and still functional humanity. 

The acting is excellent all across the board. As Katniss, Lawrence shows a fighter who does not back down. She is terrific at depicting all of the fears, doubts and conflicts going through this girl's head and heart, making Katniss jump off the page. Every emotion finds a way to her face -- the last scene with Cinna (Lenny Kravitz) before the games and sequences with Rue (Amandla Stenberg) instantly come to mind. Hutcherson brings to life the idealistic pragmatism of Peeta, the character's naiveté paradoxically representing both his greatest strength and weakness. The whole "love for show" aspect that Collins had examined so beautifully in the book is also a huge part of the film, reaching a crescendo near the end. As far as the supporting players go, Woody Harrelson gives a new meaning to disillusion playing Katniss and Peeta's mentor Haymitch Abernathy, and Kravitz infuses Cinna with a mental and stylistic calmness that is a breath of fresh air in the debauched Capitol. Elizabeth Banks is a hostile, garish delight as Effie Trinket, the teenagers' escort, while Stenberg is a gem as Rue, the youngest child targeted by the autocracy's savagery. I also quite liked Wes Bentley as gamemaker Seneca Crane. The actor's style has always contained a dose of sinister glee, a quality perfect for a Capitol pet on an express road to Hell. 

While the cinematic version of The Hunger Games reflects the first novel's best aspects, it also introduces elements that add to the themes instead of being unnecessary distractions. It is a shame that Ross is not coming back for Catching Fire, but I have no doubt that Francis Lawrence is another well chosen director and I am looking forward to seeing what he does with the tale. Collins's story is an ode to honor and freedom against all odds, one that will stand the test of time, and I am pleased to say that this film follows suit.

9/10

Weekly Review -- The history of bullets

The Bang Bang Club (2010) -- The topic of apartheid has almost always been viewed through a political or socio-cultural cinematic lens. Arguably the most shameful period in South African history, it has been presented in the context of human interest stories, yet would somehow constitute the background and not the heart of the narrative itself. Never has it been viewed through the literal lens of the people who found themselves in the eye of the storm -- the photojournalists who risked life and limb to bring the truth of the brutalities to light.  

The film tells the story of photographers Greg Marinovich (Ryan Phillippe), Kevin Carter (Taylor Kitsch), João Silva (Neels Van Jaarsveld) and Ken Oosterbroek (Frank Rautenbach), who toiled tirelessly to expose the despotic South African regime in the only way they knew how -- through raw, uncensored images that would go on to appear in newspapers around the world. Along the way, the job was taking its toll at the so-called Bang Bang Club, with the men's own identities slowly disappearing under the burden of perpetual violence and their sanity constantly being at stake...

What the film does right is set up the tense, hectic atmosphere that these people had lived and worked in, the milieu that informed their jobs day in and day out. Inhabiting political chaos is certainly no easy task and being required to record its timeline is doubtlessly just as difficult. Silver also takes a look at interesting and often unfair questions that many might say are posed by the nature of the work. Do reporters play the role of memory keepers or protectors or maybe both? Should a photographer aid their subject in a time of distress? On the minus side, I would have liked to see more of these fascinating people's inner lives and the impact that their profession has had on their relationships with "civilians". The film barely touches upon these aspects, when a detailed introspective glance would have probably made its themes even more intriguing.  

The acting is fantastic. Phillippe gives another understated performance as Marinovich, a workaholic constantly attempting to separate himself from the horrors around him and often failing miserably. Van Jaarsveld is very good as the occasionally hotheaded Silva, while Rautenbach is impressive as Oosterbroek, the cool head of the group. Still, the biggest revelation is Kitsch and the edge he brings to the role of Carter, whose life took a turn for the worse after one of his most famous photographs was published and debated. Carter's excitable, devil-may-care attitude is a facade for a vulnerable man who has witnessed too much of what no one should ever have to see, someone consequently unable to find a way out of shell shock. Kitsch underlines his portrayal with a melancholy humanity that makes him stand out in a film brimming with terrific performances, and I hope that more strong dramatic material comes his way very soon. 

Taking on a unique and never before seen perspective of apartheid, The Bang Bang Club reconstructs an era that history cannot afford to forget. It goes inside the psyche of human beings who fought tyranny with no need for weapons and who would not back down when confronting bigotry. The film is a testament to the courage of a very specific mindset, one that overlooks warnings in favor of the truth and one that disregards danger in favor of evidence.        

9/10