On Friday night, me, the redoubtable Mike and
rachel_swirsky, and the intrepid
Rebecca Peters-Golden of the YA blog
Crunchings & Munchings went to see
The Hunger Games.
The Hunger Games is a film about a teenage girl struggling to negotiate relationships and gender roles in a hostile social environment. Along the way, trees explode, people die, and Lenny Kravitz proves the value of a good eyeliner.
You may have heard of it.
Anyway, the short version is: as an enthusiastic fan of the book, I thought the adaptation was awesome. As a film-goer I would give it a B+: it has strong acting and great direction in the opening 15 minutes, but suffers from the occasional bout of draggy pacing. It also wrestles with, and does not completely conquer, the challenge of transferring an intense first-person narrative into the 3rd person visuals of film.
But you know what? This is a very good adaptation of a rockin' novel. Hollywood seems to find that hard: for every Hunger Games there's twenty extremely annoying mutilations of The Dark is Rising (the horror! the horror!).
There was actually a moment about 50 minutes into the film - the first shot of the "Hunger Games studio" - when I thought, "In different hands, this is precisely the moment when things would start to suck." But the yawning pit of suckdom was avoided; goodness continued; and thus I could sleep peacefully at night and wake to face another day of ICFA with a soul lightened with the knowledge that Hunger Games had passed through the gates of film unscathed. Now:
( SPOILERAMA! )