Despite the change in directors, Hunger Games: Catching Fire maintains a similar coolness and eeriness imparted by the first. While the first installment created a Nazi-driven subtext, the second emphasizes President Snow’s (Donald Sutherland) and Plutarch Heavensby’s (Philip Seymour Hoffman) darkness. The suffocating imageries of both jungle and ocean add to the feelings of isolation and apprehension that run through Suzanne Collins’ novels.
At the same time, this second film becomes the perfunctory bridge to transport the audience to the upcoming third installment. All to faithful to the book in this regard, the Catching Fire offers little in the way of character development, only offering the assumption that, in the Capital, there are varying degrees of evil that span from evil to more evil. On the whole, this does not detract from the entertainment value, but positions this sequel as a two hour adventure before the conclusion.
Similarly, the love story is something out of a situational comedy: Peeta (Josh Hutcherson) and Gale (Liam Hemsworth) both love Katniss (Jennifer Lawrence), who, for the most part loves Gale, but might have feelings for Peeta. I suppose Katniss’ affection for both comes from various shared experiences, but it’s unclear how love can exist in a country divided into districts that are comprised of competitional hierarchies within each district. This is not to say that our world is currently devoid of this similar structure, but we are talking about a country that has apparently gone through some sort of nuclear holocaust and, for the most part, is part of a dystopia.
In other words, the love story is forced and is used to reel the audience through a film that offers little in the way of progress and more in the way of suspense.
Despite this, the meat of the film is its hyperbolized look at the convergence of government and media and the ways in which constructed images both rule and lead to destruction. The Hunger Games and the Quells themselves are a form of destruction that satisfy humanity’s nature to conquer and destroy. While sad to watch for those closest to the victims, the violent process is sanctioned, thus made culturally acceptable and a part of the norm.
The temporality of the Games also serves as a distraction. The focus effectively shifts from everyday penury to district property. Districts 1 through 12 each have a vested stake in the games insomuch as they have someone or some two to root for, but their potential victor’s return offers nothing to the district itself aside from momentary notoriety and the ability for each denizen to say, “I knew Katniss when…” And in this, we see a critical look at our culture’s obsession with celebrity, as well as the way in which combat becomes a game. Catching Fire aptly posits that there is a constant “us against them” within districts and between districts. Most disturbingly, it shows how each conflict and Game becomes a distraction from the nefariousness above.
To see this as an honest view of world government is too cynical even for my uber-pessimism, but the separation between those in charge, those who feel they are important, and those who are viewed as the least important is a profound one.
