PaddyReagan Reviews

The Hunger Games (2012)

The Hunger Games--More Than Meets the Eye

[9/10 · 29 April 2012]

With so many reviewers in attack mode I'm almost hesitant to enter this arena. But, I feel bound to do so, to step past the multiple critiques of actors and technique, to examine The Hunger Games in am alternative way.

We can never be sure how the stories we read evolved. Are they superficial flows of ideas, bound together by a simple plot or did the author or screenwriter fill the book or movie with complex literary devices that tested our attention during endless lectures in college?

Here, in The Hunger Games, the simple premise of a long past conflict was the stated basis. But, there is much more—many hints and suggestions, that encourage us to imagine our own back story—simple or complex as we wish it to be.

First of all, this destructive conflagration occurred at least 75 years in the past, hence the 74th Hunger Games. The President, Donald Sutherland, in all his ungroomed splendor, was probably the only resident of the Capital old enough to remember which explains a sensitivity to any hint of solidarity and rebellion. The Districts were splinter groups, cast into the wild, relegated to provide elemental sustenance for the Capital whose residents were obviously successful in bringing the great rebellion to a bitter end. Scattered and fenced, these Districts were guarded and forbidden from contact with others.

In this context, The Hunger Games was an effort to establish competition among these districts, to engender hate as a common bond with each other and against all other districts. That there was one winner focused this hatred on that district. The games deflected mutual hatred for the Capital and substituted it for the competition. In this role, the competitors became the gladiators in a futuristic but just as deadly coliseum. The victor presented as hero for a year, touring other Districts as a proxy of the Capital and its power.

This was centralized power in its most potent form. The Districts were kept hungry, near starvation, and worked in an environment reminiscent of pre-union industry. Indeed, glimpses of District 12 reminded us of America's own Appalachia during its rugged coal mining days.

This was the backdrop against which The Hunger Games were held—Olympic pageantry meets Roman arena. Hints of this volatile situation were common: the symbolic salute of assembled masses, the battles between Peacekeepers and workers on factory floors, and the paranoia of the President that ended in the demise of the Gamesmaker.

The Hunger Games was a splendid effort. It was a condensation to be sure and a better experience for those of us who read the book(s) beforehand. For those who criticized Katniss as too svelte for District 12, consider that she was a hunter whose family ate better than most. That the cat had a scene in the film and the goat did not—well, there must be some compromises.

This is the first chapter in what will be, based on its success, a trilogy and we'll learn much about these characters and the Districts. Like Harry Potter, a series of books written for a teen-aged audience has captured the imagination of adult readers. That the reality of death was downplayed so completely in the film was both a tribute to the director and a gift to a younger audience who otherwise would not be able to see the film at all.

The Lovely Bones (2009)

Insightful and Unsettling

[8/10 · 25 October 2010]

Prejudice is one of the greatest spoilers in our lives. It damages relationships, sends innocent men to prison, it influences choices in the marketplaces we frequent. Reading a book and dozens of reviews beforehand is the surest way to prejudice attitudes about any movie. I brought my own prejudice to The Lovely Bones. As the father of a 14 year old daughter any movie featuring the brutal death of a child is sure to tear my heart out. As such, Bones made me suffer through a tragedy that every family dreads.

After reading many of these IMDb reviews after the fact (I've still not read the book) and comparing the impressions of others with my own thoughts and responses, I find myself wanting to defend the movie and its telling of a heartbreaking story.

It as a story told by an innocent--a 14 year old, small town girl. She had not been seriously kissed, was still more child than woman, and possessed only vague ideas and impressions of life and what comes after. Her innocence and curiosity led her into the corn field and to her death. But, to us, her audience, her spirit flitted away, into an imagined world, into a blue space from which she could see but not be seen. This fantasy universe seemed incomprehensible to many who saw the film, offended by so much "CGI". But how would you perceive this middle-ground if you were 14? How would you construct the metaphorical space in which this transition was taking place? Hints were present everywhere, the lighthouse from the bottled ship, the gazebo where she was to meet her potential first love, the drawing with its blue space—recognized by her brother as her temporary home. From this lush purgatory, she watched with a breaking heart as her family was crushed by the reality of their loss.

Bob Dylan's recurring phrase in "Like a Rolling Stone" was "how does it feel?" That's the unspoken question I ask as I watch any movie. Can the tenuous collaboration of writer, director, and actors influence the cynical, hard hearted, over-exposed to media, information junkie that I've become? As I watched The Lovely Bones I felt tight-chested fear for my own children, identified with the bitter angst of a family who had lost so much, and hoped the daughter sitting beside me wouldn't see my tears or at least understand why they existed.

While I could have done without Sarandon's awkward mother in law and asked the same logical questions (where did he put the two tons of dirt in the corn field/why did they move the safe a hundred yards instead of moving the car), I will never forget the crushing reprise of neighbor Harvey's criminal past or the passage of all those murdered women with lives left unlived.

I've wondered how parents of murdered children cope with such an event. Bones only amplifies that question, magnifying the depth and impact of emotions. While the ending demonstrates irony more than vengeance, the real story is closure—that happiness is only possible when sadness ends.

Avatar (2009)

Everything Old is New Again

[10/10 · 16 March 2010]

About 120 years ago Thomas Edison received the first U.S. patent for a motion picture. There was not much plot. The audience saw nothing more than an Edison employee sneezing. But they SAW it, were amazed by it, paused to watch it again and again. It was early evidence that a new visual technology could be much more fascinating than the content it presented.

Almost a hundred years later, the curtain rose for the first time for Andrew Lloyd Webber's Phantom of the Opera. It was an old story by Gaston Leroux, first told in 1909 and adapted so many times and in so many ways that even children knew the mechanics of the plot. Critics generally panned the production but everyone I've known who saw it on stage described it as breathtaking and unforgettable.

I offer these comments as evidence that Avatar is not the first visual adventure to capture a worldwide audience while critics dined on cold crow in the lobby. On two occasions now, James Cameron has taken simple, populist, and fascinating themes and used technology and storytelling abilities to attract audiences around the world in numbers never believed possible.

My message is simple: Watch the movie. Set aside the nonsense about stories told before, weak plots, and sour grape attitudes. Watch creatures you've never imagined, run through tree tops, let a brave new world reveal itself. Put away cynicism and blasé expectations. Understand going in that this is not Hamlet or Citizen Kane or the English Patient but the same conflicts are at work. It is a simple story told in a remarkable and fascinating way using technology and techniques that will change movie making for years to come.

On the Lot (2007)

A Freefall into La Brea

[3/10 · 24 May 2007]

Whether one enjoys American Idol or not, it is a high energy, high velocity, high volume exercise with ratings credentials to match. With 30+ million viewers in its wake, it is an incredible springboard for any new programming event that the Fox Network chooses to showcase. On Tuesday evening, all of the media and promotional planets were aligned to introduce On the Lot, the new reality show purported to identify the Next Big Hollywood Director through reality show attrition.

I'm not a big fan of these reality adventures. I watched the original Survivor with interest. But every similar effort in its wake (and there have been plenty) has seemed to walk the same path, in the same stale footprints. Now, use of the term "voted off" stimulates some frantic channel surfing to separate myself from THAT reality.

Still, the promo spots for On the Lot seemed intriguing. One doesn't often see flying saucers over the East River. Perfect timing! We're all currently immersed in an avalanche of "mini-movies" from YouTube and MySpace, and dozens of other mega-hit web sites. Our obsession with all things video has revealed some genuine, if in-the-raw talent. This viewer mind-set and a forum such as OTL should be fertile ground, an opportunity for would-be directors to excel and viewers to enjoy their challenges. Plus, the Spielberg/Amblin name on the marquee usually suggests a quality product.

Unfortunately, an hour of YouTube's best would have been sensational compared to this lot. Because, in reality, On the Lot should have been called On the Feed Lot. It smelled terrible! Take all of the worst attributes of Survivor, American Idol, and The Apprentice, mix in Inside the Actor's Studio and Dog Eat Dog and you'll have the ingredients for this misdirected melange that managed to be, at once, too cerebral, too adolescent, too devoid of any compelling video or film to please anyone.

With all of opening clichés out of the way (the only reality was bits and pieces of the Universal Studio Tour) we settled down to watch a series of pitch presentations by increasingly inept wannabes. Shades of the American Idol auditions but (unless you have a sadistic streak) with no entertainment value at all.

Three judges, of course, with one female but lacking the good, the bad, and the ugly that sparks the process when AI's no talent shills are sent packing. I must say, Marshall, and Ratner are talented directors and Fisher is a fine author and a pretty good actor, though she will always be Princess Leia to Star Wars fans. The people who designed my car did a fine job too but that doesn't mean I want to see them on TV telling neophytes in the auto business where to install the fuel injectors.

After a quick ejection of 14 for whom Andy's 15 minutes of fame fled too quickly, the remaining candidates arranged themselves in groups of three and were given their first movie assignments with actual cameras and actors. The final quarter hour of the show vacillated between Survivor beach scene angst, midnight hour confrontations ala Apprentice, and kindergarten playgrounds on no-nap afternoons. After a few minutes of personality conflicts, glowering, and shouts of "You're blocking my shot!" only white knuckles kept me from abandoning this ship of fools.

How can people who have created such stunning successes miss the mark so badly? I suspect that by the half hour break, at least 80 percent of those AI viewers were gone and, by the end, maybe 10 percent had lingered. Worse news: most will never be back. One magnificent opportunity, wasted.

For those of us with film and television experience, curiosity couldn't keep us away. For everyone else, the question had to be the same—"Where's the entertainment?!!"