“The Hunger Games” may be derivative, but it is engrossing and at times exciting. Implicitly, it argues that “The Truman Show” might have been improved by Ed Harris lobbing fireballs at Jim Carrey, and it’s now clear what “American Idol” was missing all those years: a crossbow for Simon Cowell.
This cracking adventure of the future keeps things moving for 2 ¼ hours and marks a refreshing turn, for a blockbuster, to the human and away from superpowers: Nobody (at least among the protagonists) can do anything magical, and the action scenes (all but one of which are superbly done) are intense and intimate.
The movie begins with kids from all over the country being rounded up and sent to a central location to try to kill each other. This tradition used simply to be called “boys’ boarding school” but now it’s co-ed sci-fi. The Hunger Games are a live TV event like a literal “Survivor”: Only one of the 24 young people (two from each of 12 districts) can live.
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In the poorest, Appalachia-like district, teen Katniss (Jennifer Lawrence) is growing up modestly inside a Johnny Cash song (coal mines, railroads, filet of varmint on the stove) when her little sister is randomly selected for the Hunger Games. She volunteers to take the kid’s place and heads to the Capitol city as a heavy underdog. Except she’s really the overdog, isn’t she? She grew up in the kind of wilderness where the Games take place, and she is handy with a bow and arrow.
She even knows which berries not to eat.
Socioeconomically, she is not one of the chosen. But in survival she should be a heavy favorite against suburban kids who couldn’t find the nearest diner without a Yelp app.
The Capitol is a sort of Sharper Image version of Oz (or, if you prefer, picture Las Vegas by John Galliano). There, she gets advice from her designated mentor (Woody Harrelson, whose character morphs from being a useless drunk to an invaluable sage for no reason I could detect), has fancy meals with a ditzy representative of the Games (Elizabeth Banks, channeling Paula Abdul dressed by Marie Antoinette) and appears on the chat show hosted by the smarmy emcee of the live TV broadcast of the games. This is Stanley Tucci, wearing a vast blue wig, giving maybe the least interesting performance of his I’ve ever seen. Also on the same show, Katniss learns someone has a crush on her: her acquaintance and fellow District 12 gladiator (Josh Hutcherson, barely registering a pulse — somebody get this kid a Red Bull IV).
Plotwise, the movie has problems: A big development happens because of coincidence (Katniss overhears key exposition), there’s an unlikely alliance, an attacker makes the mistake of giving a lengthy speech before finishing off a victim, the villains aren’t interesting and the TV satire is about as bitter as a marshmallow (unlike in the similar but nastier Schwarzenegger movie “The Running Man,” in which Richard Dawson was despicably amusing). This last factor, I think, has to do with how youth today equates television and validation. No longer is TV the idiot box. It’s the holy key to the kingdom of fame.
Then there’s Hollywood’s never-ending quandary about what to do with black people. Wait, here’s an idea: Have them play helpful subordinates to white heroes.
Fans of the book will be peeved by the lack of development of secondary characters. (I was more annoyed that the primary characters don’t really come into focus either, despite the long running time.)
At his best, though, director Gary Ross (“Seabiscuit”) is expert at keeping up suspense, mainly by being stingy with info about how this alternate world is set up (here again, readers of the book will lose out since they already know the details). He also does a fine job handling the most harrowing moments, such as when Katniss must decide, as the Games begin, whether to run for a cache of weapons or run away. Running the camera close on Lawrence as she fights hand to hand or fires an arrow, Ross keeps the audience breathlessly right there next to her.
Like the Harry Potter movies, though, this one is essentially a sellout. It’s been a long time since Willy Wonka set out to identify and correct kids’ moral failings. Now kids’ movies tell us that what adults mainly need to do is recognize and cheer the wonderfully amazing awesomeness of young people, preferably by giving them hair and makeup consultants and TV deals.