"Mockingjay: Part 2" Caps Off the Better-Than-Necessary "Hunger Games" Franchise with a Worse-Than-It-Could've-Been Finale

Gale (Liam Hemsworth) is a sad panda. A sad, genocidal panda.

The first Hunger Games came out just after I started cataloging reviews on this site, and I realize now I've written quite a bit about this franchise over the last several years. Given that I reviewed each of the first three films, I've decided to review Mockingjay: Part 2 to close off the loop. If I wasn’t a completest, I probably wouldn't be reviewing this film. There are a lot of other movies I'd rather spend my limited time dissecting, mainly because so much of Mockingjay: Part 2 feels like pointless wheel spinning.

That's thematically the point, I get it, and, in fact, I like it. I really like it. The fact that this whole franchise and this final passage in particular, is basically a subversion of young adult genre tropes is pretty awesome in my book. I love that this isn't some heroic “chosen one” thing. I love that the romantic triangle is simultaneously treated as real and silly by these characters. I love the wary melancholy and the ruminations on perception over content, packaged violence and idealism turned rotten. And I love that the main character basically plays no part in the climactic battle, and that nearly everything she does in this film is pointless until the final 10 minutes or so.

At the same time, this really doesn't work as a movie, particularly because of that last point. Katniss is just a propaganda tool to the rebels, enslaved in many of the same ways she was by the Capitol. She's the inverse of Captain America, a hero who started as a bullshit rallying ploy but quickly became an assertive hero. She takes the opposite journey, and while that's a pretty awesome and downbeat concept for a blockbuster film to explore, it all plays so lifelessly here. Thank heavens for Jennifer Lawrence, who does so much heavy lifting here to make this thing play. It’s probably become cliché to adore her work, but goddamn she is amazing as Katniss Everdeen.

When I reviewed part 1, I suggested it was an artistic mistake to split Mockingjay into two films, and part 2 confirms it. This whole thing would've been far more potent if it was culled down to one film. Mockingjay: Part 1 was actually pretty effective on its own, because there were so many flavorful character moments to enjoy. Here, other than Katniss, Peeta (Josh Hutcherson), Gale (Liam Hemsworth), Coin (Julianne Moore), and Snow (Donald Sutherland), nobody has anything to do, and even many of those players aren’t afforded much. If you're going to break this relatively short book into two films, I feel like I'm at least entitled to more worthwhile moments with this great cast. Sadly, in this form, it all feels like a giant misuse of talent.

There are other annoyances too. For instance, I think it was a questionable character decision to cake so much makeup on Katniss toward the end of the film. And, at this point, given the size and success of these films, I am bewildered by how consistently mediocre and tacky the effects have been in this series. This is a multi-billion dollar franchise, so why do the effects look like something out of a direct -to-video Mimic sequel?

Ultimately this is an honest and poignant end to a series that was way better and far more nuanced than it needed to be. Author Suzanne Collins made some really great decisions with her books, and this film doesn’t shy away from those in the interest of pleasing the plebs, and I really like that. The film makes some strong points about heroism, sacrifice, disillusionment, and bull-shit trafficking. I just think it could've been even better if the filmmakers would’ve tightened these two parts into one instead of opting to milk every last dollar out of the cash cow. B

Julianne Moore Earns that Oscar in "Still Alice"

Julianne Moore totally inhabits this character.  

Full disclosure: Over the past half-decade or so, I have watched my grandmother descend further and further into dementia to the point that she is now a safety risk, incapable of being left alone. I'm not sure if that clouds my evaluation of a film like Still Alice, which tells the story of a linguistic professor's bout with Alzheimer's and the affect her mental deterioration has on her and her family. Did my investment come easier, my tears more readily because this film hit a little close to the bone? I can't really be sure, but at least now you know where I'm coming from.

Based on the novel by Lisa Genova, Still Alice is a harrowing depiction of the personal destruction that accompanies Alzheimer's. It's pretty straightforward and so it does have a Lifetime movie of the week vibe to it, but the movie is elevated by a brilliant central performance and a restrained script that’s chock-full of insight and authenticity.

Julianne Moore took home the Oscar for her work as the titular character, and it's a long overdue victory. Moore is one of the greatest actors of her generation, so I was behind her win before even seeing the movie, but, now that I have, I can say this is one of those rare cases where a past-due actor is deservedly honored for the performance in question as well as for overall career achievement.

I’m not sure I’d say this is Moore’s best performance, but it’s certainly up there. What’s so impressive about how Moore slowly peels layer upon layer away from Alice’s identity is just how little you notice the acting. The character’s decline is rapid, but the performance is seamless. This is a full on clinic in subtle submersion.

Although Alice’s husband (Alec Baldwin) and three children (Kate Bosworth, Kristen Stewart, and Hunter Parrish) factor in to the narrative, the film intentionally keeps them on the margins. Generally, this works fine. The supporting actors all do fine work, and the reality is that the film is trying to capture Alice’s experience (as opposed to Away From Her, a film focused more on how a dementia touches those closest to the afflicted).

Still, even given that defense, it does feel like a bit of a cheat at times, especially concerning the Bosworth character. Alice is dealing with a genetic form of the disease and a blood test reveals that the Bosworth character has the gene and will therefore go through this exact trauma in about 20 years, and yet, outside of one clipped phone conversation, this developing is never really addressed with any sort of substance. It’s a dangling narrative thread that is jarringly pushed aside.

That gripe aside, Still Alice is a worthwhile film with a powerhouse performance from one of our greatest working actors. At one point, Alice pines “I wish I had cancer. I wouldn’t feel so ashamed. People put on pink ribbons if you have cancer.” It’s a salient point, one that highlights that Still Alice is the rare film that makes us both think and feel, all while never giving in to mawkishness. Its strength is in its matter-of-fact depiction of the shattering realities that accompany this terrible disease and in the grace that can occasionally shine through during such a devastating eradication of self. B+

"The Hunger Games: Mockingjay -- Part I" Changes Up Franchise Formula to Mostly Positive Results

Katniss becomes the face of the revolution in Mockingjay -- Part 1.

In a post Harry Potter world, The Hunger Games series is far and away the best of the onslaught of YA adaptions. I outlined my thinking on this in my review of The Hunger Games: Catching Fire, but the gist is this: even though the plot here is just as high concept and ludicrous as those found in many of its contemporaries, there is a credibility to the series because it keeps everything on the human scale rooted in a great lead character played by an actress at the top of her game. As this series goes on, it's getting easier and easier to say it -- Jennifer Lawrence is outright iconic.

The Hunger Games: Mockingjay -- Part I is another winning entry in the series, which is really saying something given all it has going against it. For starters, it doesn't center around a Hunger Games, and so it doesn't have the structure the first two films had. This adaptation was already going to have a meandering quality to it because of that, but then there's the fact that it's also being split into two films, which has only made it worse.

Splitting films has become a thing in Hollywood, but it almost always makes the films feel incomplete and is almost never necessary. At least with Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, there was a practical reason -- that book was huge and had the responsibility of tying together so many plot strands that making one satisfying movie would've been impossible. On the opposite end of that spectrum is Breaking Dawn, a two-part film in which so little happens, it's amazing they couldn't do the whole thing in about 75 minutes.

Mockingjay falls squarely in the middle of these two extremes. Splitting the book into two films certainly affords the opportunity to explore character in a way one film never could, but I'm pretty confident the narrative would've been better served without the split. Although the total Mockingjay experience is going to clock in at well over four hours, it probably would've worked best as a three-hour epic. At least 20 minutes could have been chopped off of this first part without doing harm (especially the manufactured drama about Prim's cat and the rescue mission that eats up most of the final quarter of the film and was no doubt trumped up from the books as a means to give this film an exciting ending).

But there's no use talking about what could have been. Mockingjay -- Part I is still an involving film, but fans of the series should know that it's definitely a major step back in the action department. While the first two films hinted at political maneuvering, this film puts such manipulations front and center.

Mockingjay -- Part I gives these frequent costars a chance to 

share some scenes together.

Other than Katniss, the two focal characters in this film are Plutarch Heavensbee (Phillip Seymour Hoffman), the games-maker from the last film who conspired to spring Katniss from the arena, and President Alma Coin (Julianne Moore), the leader of the militaristic District 13 that is leading the revolution against the Capitol and President Snow (Donald Sutherland). In lieu of tournament with kids killing each other, the film spends a great deal of time showing their attempt to unite the districts and incite war with Katniss cast as their troop-rousing mascot. A great deal of effort is put on the PR aspects of war, so, in many respects, this latest Hunger Games film has more in common with something like Wag the Dog than it does with its direct predecessors (which explains why Danny Strong, writer of the political HBO films Recount and Game Change, has been brought on as a a co-writer).

The cast for this series is a huge strength and just keeps getting better and better. Julianne Moore is a solid addition and giving an actor as great as Hoffman more to do is always a great idea. Woody Harrelson gets some new notes to plays as a sober Haymitch, as does Elizabeth Banks as a humbled Effie, who has been added on here in a well-considered streamlining move (her role in the books was filled by lesser characters who had already been marginalized in the previous films).

As indicated above, Lawrence is a dynamo, and it's great to see her do bad acting when filming canned ads for the revolution, only to then see how moving she can be when giving a speech in the heat of battle or singing a soulful and moody song from her youth that is then morphed into a rallying song by the propoganda machine (major props to Lawrence and The Lumineers for bringing those book lyrics to life). Meanwhile, Josh Hutcherson remains the a stealth weapon of the series, conveying a lot of subtext in each of his interview scenes. On the other end of the barely-a-romantic-triangle triangle, Liam Hemsworth remains the weak link in the cast, but I'm not sure how much of that is on him, and how much of that is on the poorly defined character. For what it's worth, he does deliver in his big speech about the bombing of District 12.

Outside of the unnecessary splitting of the narrative, my biggest gripe with the film involves a deviation from the book that definitely rates as as a spoiler (you've been warned). While inter-cutting a rousing victory speech from Coin with Katniss watching a writing Peeta is a fantastic, theme-appropriate way to end here, I'm not a big fan of the overt acknowledgement that Snow allows this rescue mission to occur because of his "brainwash Peeta to hate Katniss" plan (which was more of a safety net in the books where the conversation between Snow and Katniss never occurred). It seems highly unlikely that Peeta would've actually been able to kill Katniss, and I just don't see how a shrewd villain like Snow would take that chance considering how much of a PR victory it would represent for the opposition otherwise. That's especially true considering he didn't bother brainwashing the other two captives. Why not just kill those two if he was going with this Peeta plan? Or, better yet, why not just kill all three? The whole thing worked better when it played like Snow was semi-duped as opposed to actively stupid.

While I'll probably always believe the series would've played best as a trilogy, Hunger Games: Mockingjay -- Part I is another good entry in an increasingly impressive series of films. B+