Showing posts with label dystopian. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dystopian. Show all posts

Sunday, April 08, 2012

The Hunger Games (2012)


Image from IMP Awards

The Hunger Games (2012)

Films that are better than the book are, apparently, an almost mythical breed - a supposed truism that I take objection to, and one that the film adaptation of the first of Suzanne Collins' 'Hunger Games' trilogy goes some way towards disproving. I picked up the book with a little reluctance, worried that it would be another shallow Twilight-esque phenomenon; I was pleasantly surprised to discover that it was a genuinely interesting and compelling science fiction story, as is the film.

It's the future, and the United States is no more. What's left is a nation state composed of a totalitarian Capitol and 12 subservient 'Districts', each at a varying level of economic prosperity. Katniss Everdeen, played by the terrific Jennifer Lawrence, is a teenage girl in the poverty ridden district 12 who illegally hunts game to provide for her mother and younger sister. From the outset we see that she is resourceful and possesses a steely eyed determination, attributes Lawrence captures perfectly without appearing cold or aloof. The story's complex protagonist and her portrayal are without question the film's biggest strength (so much so that the NY Times did an interesting piece on her here).

Day to day survival in District 12, depicted as a stark and hopeless commune by director Gary Ross in the film's early scenes, isn't the only problem its denizens face. Every year, as punishment for a failed uprising against the Capitol, each District must offer a randomly picked teenage boy and girl as 'tributes' to take part in the 'Hunger Games', a televised rules free battle to the death within a large controlled environment where only one can emerge victorious (this gladiatorial spectacle is one of several allusions to ancient Rome). When her sister is picked, Katniss volunteers to take her place and is whisked off to the opulent Capitol together with fellow tribute Peeta Mellark (a bland but adequate Josh Hutcherson) to prepare for the games... and certain death.

The first half of the film is the lead up to the games themselves and takes place primarily in the Capitol, which is depicted as garish, gaudy, and full of excess. The designs are outlandish and the lifestyle is luxurious, the complete opposite of the suppressed Districts - an unsubtle but nonetheless effective depiction of a society of extreme inequality. Our primary representative of the Capitol is Effie Trinket, played to perfection by Elizabeth Banks, the shrill and shallow escort for District 12's tributes. Effie is part of the tributes' support team, which also includes their stylist Cinna - a solid Lenny Kravitz - and their trainer Haymitch, a former Games survivor from District 12, brought wonderfully to life by Woody Harrelson as a gruff and comical but ultimately caring ruffian.

Collins' novel and her screen adaptation don't stop at being an allegory for the injustices of inequality, they also lampoon a culture of excess and superficiality, and this is highlighted perfectly in the way the Games are treated as a reality TV show. The tributes have to take part in a training regimen and impress potential sponsors who may provide them with resources during the games. Part of the likelihood of sponsorship rests on how popular the tribute is, where popularity is gained by being fashionable, extravagant, likable and willing to tell personal stories to endear themselves to viewers. Katniss is forced to compromise who she is to entertain the masses for the sake of her family and her District as well as her life, a recurring theme that is handled with admirable subtlety by director, write, and actor.

When the Games proper begin the film dips slightly as the second half, taking place as it does almost entirely in nondescript woods, can't quite match the variety and depth of the first. It's a battle for survival, mildly reminiscent of Battle Royale (which I reviewed here a few years ago!) but lacking that films nuanced portrayal of minor supporting characters.

Gary Ross's elegant and restrained style gives way to a little too much shaky camera work and quick cut editing, presumably necessitated by the requirement to minimise the child against child violence displayed on screen. When it works it's effective, such as the opening of the Games where a bloodbath occurs as the tributes fight for resources. Ross constructs scenes that take their time and are fleshed out, with actors given the opportunity to convey thoughts and emotions without dialogue. This is a real film and not a cheap cash in, although its 'relatively small for a blockbuster' budget does show in the so-so special effects.

The Games are a case of surviving against the elements as much as they are about combat and strategy - a real game of cat and mouse in the woods, as it were, where finding food, water, and shelter are as important as surviving encounters with other tributes. This segment of the film is exciting and brutal, well paced while still leaving time for character moments and plot twists along the way.

The screenplay diverges from the book at points but only slightly, excising unnecessary prolonged sequences during the Games that frankly would have been uncinematic. It also - thankfully - tones down the faux/real romance between Katniss and Peeta and the potential love triangle involving her hunting partner back home, Gale (a bland Liam Hemsworth). The character interplay between the two District 12 tributes is subtler and less cringe inducing than in the book.

Despite minor deviations, and the screenplay is incredibly true to the source material, even when it sometimes amalgamates different moments and transposes others. There are some additions to the book as well, ones that serve to elevate the material to the realm of socially relevant sci-fi. These include goings on behind the scenes involving the menacing President (Donald Sutherland) and the naive showman running the games, Seneca (Wes Bentley) as well as certain events in other districts that are triggered by Katniss' defiance in the arena.

While the film doesn't end with a sense of finality - unsurprising since there are two more books in the trilogy - it is still fairly self contained and satisfactory. I'm not sure how this story continues and am a tad trepidatious as the first act has a lot to live up to. As it stands, however, 'The Hunger Games' is intelligent and exciting science fiction that marries ideas, action, spectacle, and human drama together to create a rewarding cinematic experience, one that is anchored by a star making central performance.

Monday, April 28, 2008

Staving off Gattaca

"My father was right. It didn't matter how much I lied on my resume. My real resume was in my cells. Why should anybody invest all that money to train me when there were a thousand other applicants with a far cleaner profile? Of course, it's illegal to discriminate, 'genoism' it's called. But no one takes the law seriously. If you refuse to disclose, they can always take a sample from a door handle or a handshake, even the saliva on your application form. If in doubt, a legal drug test can just as easily become an illegal peek at your future in the company." - Vincent Freeman (Ethan Hawke), Gattaca, 1997

In a surprisingly lucid move, the US Senate is pushing through laws to prevent insurance companies and employers from discriminating against people based on their genetic makeup. So maybe the future depicted in the terrific Gattaca isn't quite on the horizon.

Hang on though, in that movie genetic discrimination was illegal but it happened anyway. I suspect that, eventually, it will happen in reality at some level or the other.

And while I generally abhor the notion, a part of me does wonder whether it might not be logical in some situations, such as working in particular environments or fields. But then, where would one possibly draw the cutoff lines for eligibility? And what of people like the character of Vincent in the film, who wish to do something with every ounce of their being and could perhaps do it better than someone who was genetically more acceptable?

It's a messy question, but I think it's one of those situations where ethics ought to trump cold logic.

*Edited to add the quote & clarity (proofreading is your friend!)

Tuesday, May 22, 2007

Neuromancer (1984) by William Gibson

Neuromancer (1984) by William Gibson

'Neuromancer' is to the genre of cyberpunk what 'The Lord of the Rings' is to fantasy. It is widely regarded as the seminal cyberpunk novel, the originator of ideas that have influenced myriad films, books and video games since its publication; it's also the popularizer of the word cyberspace (a word Gibson coined in an earlier work). Reading it in the year 2007, it's easy to fail to appreciate how original and inventive the book would have been back in 1984. With that era in mind, you can't help but be impressed by Gibson's vision. With those ideas now being ubiquitous, however, does the book hold up on its literary merits alone?

The protagonist of the tale is a young man named Case, who was a computer hacker (a 'cowboy') by profession until he betrayed his employer and was punished; his nervous system was damaged in a manner that prevented him from interfacing with the 'matrix' (or cyberspace), a neural graphical representation of the world's computer networks. Case attempts to find a fix for his problem in Japan, but fails to do so and winds up becoming a junkie and a criminal heading down a path of self destruction. He's saved by a mysterious man named Armitage, who has some connection to a military operation that went awry years ago. Armitage makes a deal with Case; he fixes Case's nervous system in exchange for his services in carrying out a mysterious 'job' that involves hacking a highly secure computer system. Armitage has in his employ a woman named Molly, a 'street samurai' who is part bodyguard and part one (wo)man army; she has enhanced physical strength, retractable claws in her arms, and enhanced vision. As Armitage embarks on his mission, dragging them to several places around the world and and into space colonies in Earth orbit, Case and Molly develop a relationship and work together to try and figure out who Armitage is and what their ultimate mission will be.

That just about covers the first 10% of the story. It's a dense narrative that is complex and far from predictable; it's a mystery (who's running the show and what do they really want?) that is revealed piece by piece and builds up to a thoroughly satisfying conclusion. The book is also teeming with ideas. Apart from global computer networks, hacking, and cybernetics, the story touches upon space travel and habitation, artificial intelligence, virtual reality (à la 'The Matrix'), technology dominated society, and corporate omnipotence. Given that these elements aren't particularly novel anymore, the impact of the book from a contemporary point of view lies solely in the quality of the story, the characters, and the storytelling. They are, I think, strong enough to make this a fine novel and not just a cornucopia of concepts. Gibson creates a compelling future world, a neon lit dystopia full of violence, crime, addiction, and seedy characters; it's dark and cynical sci-fi noir. The book hits the ground running, explaining the technologies tangentially as events progress; these explanations are sometimes frustratingly sketchy or incidental, but never to an extent that makes things incomprehensible. All of the technologies and futuristic elements are believably integrated into the story.

The book is broken up into several distinct segments, and it never really slows down for very long. Having said that, it's a book that requires quite a bit more concentration than the average page turner, given the density of ideas and incident; this makes it slow going at times. Also, I found that Gibson's descriptions of events weren't always clear. There is also a lack of suspense in the story, with events taking place with almost a sense of inevitability.

The characters, as is the nature of noir style stories, aren't exactly the most lovable or sympathetic but they are well sketched out with enough backstory and personality for them to feel like people who might inhabit this messed up world. The story is told entirely from the point of view of Case, who is a man in over his head, spending much of his time being dragged around from one situation to the next and only rarely able to assert himself. Case is more at home hooked into the Matrix and he eschews the flesh like some kind of Cyber junkie; when he's hooked in he's among the best 'cowboys' in the business. He's also accompanied for much of his time in the Matrix by a wise-cracking AI reconstruction of his former mentor who assists him with the mission. Interestingly, Case also gets to experience some of the real world action via a 'simstim' system that relays all of Molly's sensory input to him, essentially allowing him to experience everything she does (including the pain). This allows the story to incorporate quite a bit of physical action and excitement as well, in addition to the virtual adventures of Case. The character of Molly - who appears in several of Gibson's books - is enigmatic; she's cool and professional, but some insight is given into what makes her tick. Of the remaining characters only Armitage is significant, and his story is also one aspect of the mystery that case and Molly attempt to solve. There are also a large number or varied and interesting peripheral characters that have a significant impact on the story.

Ultimately, I wasn't blown away by 'Neuromancer', but I found it to be a very good book and an important one in the history of sci-fi and cyberpunk in particular. I have to confess that I wasn't in the best frame of mind for reading and didn't have much time to read the book in long stretches, which detracted from my enjoyment of it and may have coloured my perception somewhat. The story and the subject matter resonate, and I look forward to reading it again, preferably in a few long sittings instead of over the course of several weeks (which is not ideal for any kind of book to be honest, but particularly not for one like this). It's worth reading on its own merits, and definitely worth reading as a landmark novel.