THE HUNGER GAMES: MOCKINGJAY - PART 1 Never Quite Catches Fire

 

THE HUNGER GAMES: MOCKINGJAY - PART 1 Review:

- There's a lot to like about the Hunger Games franchise. In an era when it still feels like we're lacking for female-driven blockbusters on the big screen, The Hunger Games stands as a defiant example of just how wrong and shortsighted big studios can be when it comes to diversifying their tentpole franchises. Katniss Everdeen as played by Jennifer Lawrence kicks all kinds of ass, and Lawrence is surrounded by a supporting cast littered with top-notch talent - from Philip Seymour Hoffman to Elizabeth Banks to Donald Sutherland to Jeffrey Wright to Julianne Moore (joining the series with Mockingjay) - who help to elevate The Hunger Games beyond what it might have been otherwise. That said, MOCKINGJAY, PART 1 also exhibits some of the worst tendencies of modern franchise filmmakiing: artificially extending a story to maximize revenue rather than because it's creatively justified, and in doing so presenting a decompressed storyline that is too frequently filled up with scenes of characters literally just sitting and talking in ways that don't drive the plot forward. MOCKINGJAY has its share of memorable, exciting moments - and Lawrence is as great as ever. But in its need to fill out two hours with only half a story, the film takes on the vibe of a 22-episode CW series - lots of on-the-nose dialogue seemingly inserted just to keep things from moving ahead too quickly. To put it simply, MOCKINGJAY is less killer, more filler.

When we last left off at the end of Catching Fire, Katniss' dome-shattering flaming arrow - a dramatic end to the all-star edition of The Hunger Games - had helped spur revolution across Pan-Em. Katniss found herself whisked away by a previously-secret band of freedom fighters that included old flame Gale (Liam Hemsworth) and former games-master Plutarch Heavensbee. Now, the group - housed in a fortified underground compound (also there: a de-glammed Effie Trinket and Wright's science-whiz Beetee), wants Katniss to be the spokesperson for their revolutionary movement. Katniss is reluctant, but she agrees when she realizes that her Hunger Games companion, Peeta, has become a mouthpiece for President Snow's evil empire. Katniss decides to go out on the frontlines with a camera crew, and broadcast the Snow-inflicted devastation and tyranny to the masses (thanks to Beetee's hacking of the airwaves). All the while, tensions escalate as all-out war looms.

There's some really great, effective stuff in this film. There are some really funny and fun moments in which Katniss is awkwardly prepped by Julianne Moore's revolutionary leader Alma Coin - and a braintrust that includes Hoffman's Plutarch and Woody Harrelson's returning (and struggling-to-be-sober) Haymitch - to be the TV-friendly leader of the cause. Later, as the revolution gains steam, there's an absolutely fantastic scene of Katniss singing a rousing spiritual hymn to her friends, which then - in a stunning montage - becomes the battle hymn of revolutionaries throughout Pan-Em. There's also a super-sweet action sequence in which Katniss shoots down Snow's aircraft with incendiary arrows. I generally like director Francis Lawrence, and he's got a knack for crafting really epic, really effective apocalyptic imagery. And so another highlight of the film are some pretty jaw-dropping scenes that portray the destruction and death caused by Snow's systematic annihilation of problematic Districts in Pan-Em. Yep, in MOCKINGJAY we see Katniss drop to her knees and cry out helplessly among skeleton-filled ruins of destroyed cities - pretty epic - and surprisingly dark - stuff. In and of themselves, there are plenty of moments here that set the stage quite nicely for the coming final battle.

However, there are also lots of moments that remind me of the sorts of stuff we tend to see on TV shows that have to uncomfortably fill up 22 hours of airtime every season: people sitting around, talking, in a way that grinds the momentum of the storytelling to a screeching halt. We all know the kinds of scenes I'm talking about from shows like The Walking Dead: one character walks into a room, finds another character brooding there, and the two proceed to have a "deep" conversation in which they verbalize what we could already infer from their actions - often through pointless anecdotes or meandering confessions. Some may praise the inclusion of these scenes in MOCKINGJAY, and call it character-building. Sure, on the surface, yes. But I call it filler. It's ironic, because there's actually a scene in this movie where Haymitch reminds the rebellion's braintrust of Katniss' most memorable moments in her rise to fame, in an effort to dissuade them from trying too hard to package her in an artificial or forced-feeling manner for their propaganda pieces. Haymitch's words should have also been taken to heart by the filmmakers: what we remember about this series are the character moments that come organically in service of the plot, not those that feel like a forced way to shoehorn more "characterization" These scenes also constrict Frances Lawrence, as he's reduced to shooting lots of static scenes of two characters in a room having protracted heart-to-hearts. By the end of the movie, momentum just seems all but drained - rendering even the big, would-be-heart-pounding attack on the rebellion's compound feel pretty blah. The movie rallies in the final few minutes with a surprising final twist, but the shocker is more in its horror-movie-esque, jump-scare delivery than with the actual plot ramifications.

Luckily, the franchise's ace-in-the-hole is still Jennifer Lawrence, who carries the whole Hunger Games on her shoulders and makes even the film's weaker scenes work as well as they possibly could. It's funny, pop-culture watchers are so frequently exposed to Lawrence's goofy, good-natured real-life persona that it's easy to forget how badass and epic of a hero she is as Katniss. The real heart and soul of the film is Katniss' rise from accidental hero to genuine leader and revolutionary. And this is where the movie really soars - again, in large part thanks to Lawrence's performance. Lawrence makes Katniss' gradual acceptance of her role in the revolution feel natural and earned, and so the movie's true climax isn't any plot twist or battle, but a late-movie scene in which a crowd of tattered, embattled citizens collectively show their allegiance and loyalty to Katniss.

Unfortunately, as good as Lawrence is, and as good as some of the supporting cast is (Moore is fantastic as always, and Seymour-Hoffman - RIP - makes even the smallest of moments pop) ... there are still some clear weak links. Josh Hutcherson has gotten better as this series has progressed, but as Petah, he still feels outmatched and outclassed by Lawrence. And I'm not sure how much of this is on Liam Hemsworth, and how much is the script's poor development of Gale, but the character still feels pretty lifeless, present more so to deliver the requisite love-triangle component of the story (this is still YA, afterall), than anything else. The young women of this world continue to outshine their male counterparts. In Catching Fire that was true of Jenna Malone's standout turn as Johanna (she pops up briefly here), and is again true in MOCKINGJAY with the addition of Game of Thrones' Natalie Dormer, as Katniss-documentarian Cressida. Dormer does well for herself here, stealing a couple of scenes via sheer presence and badassery.

I wouldn't necessarily have minded the first MOCKINGJAY film ending on a cliffhanger if it felt right, and if there seemed like enough material in this one to justify a story-split. But sadly, this does sort of feel like half a movie, and worse, it feels like a movie that is very padded and diluted in the name of ensuring the franchise's extension into four chapters. I'll always enjoy Lawrence in this role, and the stacked supporting cast keeps things interesting. But the decompressed storytelling makes MOCKINGJAY feel more like an episode of a primetime TV soap, and less like the penultimate chapter of the big dystopian action franchise that it is and should be. The movie feels less like it's barreling towards an epic conclusion, and more like it's out for a leisurely stroll. Sure, I'm onboard for the final chapter. But at this point, it's a bit more out of obligation than genuine excitement for what's to come.

My Grade: B-

THE LEGO MOVIE Is a Triumphant, Imaginative, Surprisingly Deep Meta-Adventure

THE LEGO MOVIE Review:

- How did this happen? I don't think anyone anticipated that THE LEGO MOVIE would turn out not just to be an instant-classic animated movie, but one of the most fun family films in years. And yet, thanks to a funny, fantastic script, eye-popping animation, and an all-star voice cast, this film defied the odds and is not just better than it had any right to be, but a great film by any measure.

THE LEGO MOVIE comes to us from the team of Phil Lord and Christopher Miller, who have brought humor and heart to movies as diverse as the animated Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs and the recent, raunchy, 21 Jump Street reboot. These guys are good - very good - at what they do. And they help to ensure that The Lego Movie is visually dynamic, but also incredibly clever and smart.

The genius originates from the script by Lord, Miller, and Dan and Kevin Hageman. I can't stress enough: the script to this film is flat-out brilliant. The way that it dispenses critical information in a way that's completely economical - but also super-imaginative and super-funny - is worthy of the highest praise. I could go on and on, but I'll talk for a second about the movie's fantastic premise ...

The script imagines a Lego world that has become a sort of mass-delusional authoritarian dystopia, in which the rank-and-file workers have been brainwashed into a sort of gleeful delirium. All of these little yellow Lego people live their lives per their designated instructions - never deviating from the rules that dictate every aspect of their existence. The populace is lorded over by President Business (voiced by Will Ferrell), who poses as a benevolent leader, but who is secretly Lord Business - a scheming, evil mastermind whose ultimate goal is to impose total order to every Lego land, eliminating all individuality, randomness, chaos, and creativity. When a regular-joe builder named Emmett (Chris Pratt) deviates from his usual rule-regulated routine, his eyes begin to open to the oppressive nature of his world. He's taken in by rebellious, rainbow-haired Wyldstyle (Elizabeth Banks), who believes that he might just be the Chosen One prophesied by rebel leader Vitruvius  (Morgan Freeman). Joined by a motley crew of freedom fighters, Emmett and company formulate a plan to end the tyrannical reign of Lord Business and bring individuality and creativity back to their world.

What takes the story to another level is how well the script both plays with the well-worn tropes of the classic "chosen one vs. evil empire" story. The film is super aware not just of itself, but of the pop-culture multiverse from which it draws inspiration. This manifests not just on a meta level, but on a really fun surface level. We get a Lego world where Emmett and Wyldstyle exist alongside the likes of Batman (she's dating him), Gandalf, Dumbledore, Han Solo, Shaquille O'Neal, and many, many more. There hasn't been this sort of gloriously crazed pop-culture character mash-up since the days of Who Framed Roger Rabbit.

But again, the film isn't just satisfied to have these characters cameo. This version of Batman, for example - hilariously voiced by Will Arnett - is a brilliant parody of what Batman has become in pop-culture in recent years - an uberconfident, all-powerful guy who's actually sort of a jerk. While Batman is the most prominent pop-cult character in the film, every appearance is utilized for maximum effect. The Star Wars cameos absolutely kill. The other superheroes that pop-up? Hilarious.

But really, the heart and soul of the film is Emmett. And man, Chris Pratt just nails it - bringing the same sort of lovable charm he shows each week as Andy on Parks and Recreation. But again, what makes Emmett so great is that he's *not* just a Luke Sywalker clone. Despite being hailed as a chosen one, Emmett never loses his averageness, his goofiness, or his dogged and legitimate love for following instructions. THE LEGO MOVIE, in that respect, never devolves into cliche. The movie is always one step ahead, and instead of Emmett having to step up and embrace some previously-unfathomable destiny, he instead realizes that he's got all the tools he needs to make a difference - he just needs to cleverly apply them to the situation at hand.

What's remarkable is that Emmett, Wyldstyle, Lord Business, and the other main characters of the film have remarkable dimension. Even side characters like Liam Neeson's Bad Cop/Good Cop, or Charlie Day's Benny the 80's Spaceman have unexpected depth.

The movie puts character first, but it also takes on some really big, really heady stuff. The opening scene of the film is a brilliant montage, showing us the preternaturally-happy residents of the Lego world, cheerfully singing the "Everything Is Awesome" song and going about their daily routines. But everything feels artificial and forced, and the characters act so unquestioningly and obediently that their is the unmistakable scent of dystopia in the air. Of course, this is all a very, very sly take on our world, the real world. In one brilliant opening sequence, these cartoon characters have completely and brilliantly skewered our oft-times conformist, consumerist culture. And not only that, but they've dissected that intangible sense of creativity and freedom that is inherent in children, but lost in adults. It's the creativity that makes playing with toys like Legos a joy, and it's that same creativity that Lord Business - the quintessential "adult" of this world - is intent on eliminating.

And man, the movie does a great job of getting at these big, satirical, philosophical issues early on. But later, the film flips the switch and goes somewhere very unexpected: the real world. Now, this could have been a huge mistake if handled indelicately. But when THE LEGO MOVIE suddenly morphs into live-action, and we see the human embodiment of Lord Business - Will Ferrell - as not an evil, power-mad dictator, but as a regular (if slightly OCD) dad ... well, it's then that the film introduces a very real, emotional element to the plotline. The emotional stakes of the movie are driven home: Emmett and Wyldstyle's quest is that of all of us: to hold on to our childlike impulses and creativity and individuality in the adult world. And Lord Business is the at-times well-meaning, but ultimately oppressive force of adulthood, of consumerism, of conformity. Holy $%&# - THE LEGO MOVIE isn't messing around, people.

THE LEGO MOVIE can be watched and enjoyed completely at a surface level. It's got whiz-bang action scenes, colorful characters, rapid-fire and insanely clever jokes, and more pop-culture references and parodies that you can shake a stick at (I haven't even touched on how cool the animation is - looking sleek and shiny yet also capturing an almost stop-motion feel that perfectly fits the  That winning combo alone would make it one hell of an enjoyable animated film. But beyond that, there is some seriously smart stuff going on in this film. It's a movie that on a micro level looks at how people play with Legos, but on a macro level looks at how we change from children to adults and what we lose in the process. It tells that story and addresses such weighty themes with surprising clarity of purpose and emotional depth. The same kind of pangs you might have felt while watching the Toy Story films are very much present here. Everyone and anyone who was ever, once, a kid playing with Legos will feel an instant sense of recognition while watching this film. And yes, some of that will be surface level - nostalgia for 80's spaceman Legos, etc. But some will come about in those real-world scenes between a father and son, scenes that pit an adult's need for order and logic against a kid's desire for wonderment and imagination and no-limits.

The fact that the movie works on so many levels is a pretty amazing and impressive triumph. I guess it's sort of embodied and encapsulated by the "Everything Is Awesome" song. One one level: uber-catchy pop song. On another level, early in the film: an oppressive hive-mind slave-song - the self-medicated, self-delusional cry of the worker bee. And finally, by the film's end, it morphs into a triumphant rallying cry - a reassurance that everything can and will be okay, even if it's imperfect and unpredictable and chaotic.

And yeah, all of this is in - of all things - The Lego Movie - which might just be the best animated film of the last few years. Who would ever have predicted that?

My Grade: A-