The Hunger Games: Mockingjay - Part 2

Spoilers throughout.

The mammoth phenomenon that, three and a half years ago, kick-started the trend of teen dystopia movie adaptations has finally reached its conclusion. The dystopia trend is still raging strong today, and shows almost no sign of relenting, yet, this final part of the final chapter of the girl who began it all feels past its prime -- and about a year overdue. The beginning of the end (in more ways than one) was the first Mockingjay movie and the decision to split the story into two movies. Did that decision help the movie-makers adapt the slightly bloated and chaotic last book more accurately? Absolutely. Was it worth it? Well...

Stick with me and we'll find out! Or die trying!

This film centers on Katniss and co. as they give their all to one final push in the war against President Snow. It starts out with the exact same dull, droning tone that Mockingjay Part 1 gave us. I was surprised at this for about two seconds before I realized that expecting this film to be more exciting when it was filmed at the same time as the last one was totally unrealistic. I kept having this conversation in my head: Me: "This is boring and I don't care about it anymore." Me: "Okay, but at least try and view it from an unbiased perspective so you can review it." Me: "Fine." Five minutes later, Me: "This is boring!" Eventually I realized that my unbiased opinion is just that -- this movie was sluggish and dull and lifeless for more than half of the run time. 

The cause of this probably came a lot from the two-part-stretch, but I also noticed that it had a lot to do with characters. The interesting, lively characters were sidelined in favor of the characters that were neck-deep in dark, heavy drama. Katniss is capable of, and has been a lively character is the past, but the movie inexplicably toned down that side of her here. For the most part she looks like she's sleepwalking through the plot. It can't be Jennifer Lawrence's fault though -- she's just too good at being depressed and despondent. When she breaks out of that rut and absolutely kills a scene at the end, I wished that Katniss had been present for more of the movie.

Unfortunately even Jennifer Lawrence can't carry a movie all by herself.

Peeta (Josh Hutcherson) and Gale (Liam Hemsworth) are also pretty despondent too, as they spend the movie moping -- Gale, because he knows he's losing the love-triangle battle, and Peeta, because he randomly and unwillingly flip-flops between being a good guy and a bad guy. The book's quick dismissal of Gale always bothered me, and the film does nothing to combat that. After Katniss doesn't kill him when he asks her to, and after he (possibly) inadvertently causes Prim's death, their last conversation only touches on his side of the guilt. Though I did love the delivery of Katniss' line that dismisses him forever. On Peeta's side, things often get too mushy and verge uncomfortably on cheesy as they set up for Katniss to finally choose him, but still they don't properly cover the best of their drama. At the climax when he prevents her from killing herself, the potentially powerful moment was sadly rushed and glossed over.

I guess the film lost sight of its best features: it's powerful moments, and it's fun, memorable characters.

Relatively new characters get first priority for screen time and development, and  Natalie Dormer, Elden Henson, and Mahershala Ali stand out. Old favorites only really make appearances. Haymitch (Woody Harrelson) lights up the screen when he's there. Johanna (Jena Malone) is just begging for more screen time. Effie (Elizabeth Banks) gets to show up, but doesn't get to be her usual amusing self. Caesar Flickerman (Stanley Tucci) goes full villain in his cameo-length part. Donald Sutherland and Julianne Moore keep things professional as their respective Presidents. Finnick (Sam Claflin) tries to make the most of it, but is mostly ignored before being given the same disappointing throwaway death he got in the novel. Beetee (Jeffrey Wright) practically doesn't even exist. Even Prim (Willow Shields) -- the one sure-fire sucker-punch -- isn't developed enough to get the best reaction. As the characters serve their purpose as the novel dictated, they fade away, unimportant. One novel was made into 4 hour, 20 minute film, and yet there were no character expansions.

I can only guess that the film makers were literally too scared of the fans to make any changes at all.

The only thing that was deemed worth expanding, it seems, was the action sequences -- though still minimally. The action in general though is really what makes this film worth watching over reading the book. They are visually cleaner than the book's hectic descriptions, and are a welcome break from lingering shots of deadpan faces. Ideally, this and the last film combined could be at least a half-hour shorter, and that extra time was picked up mostly by making each event -- each shot -- last just a little longer. It did nothing to add to the content of course -- a ten-second shot of Katniss' face is just as descriptive as a two-second one. It's like they were too lazy to add any new content, but also knew that a movie must be over 2 hours in order to be an "epic," and these movie have to be epics.

So after an hour and a half or so off all that, we finally get to the tide-turning final battle, and the climactic aftermath, and finally, the film gets good. This is what we were waiting for, and it didn't disappoint. Because it was the best parts of the book, it was the best parts of the film. They showed it all like the book demanded, and everything fell naturally into place. I finally fully understood the scene where Katniss votes in favor of the symbolic Hunger Games. Then Plutarch's letter, read out by good ol' Haymitch, and the fan-pleasing moment between Haymitch and Effie. The way they showed the slow progression of time as life starts to find a place again with our heroine and her fellow District 12 victors was simple, and genuinely great. And then that final scene, that gives us full circle feel for the final resolution, as Jennifer Lawrence delivers one last monologue, as the woman who used to be Girl on Fire.

Girl -- fire. Fire -- girl. For the last time.

It is important to note, that though I give this film and Mockingjay Part 1 the same star score, and though my review of Part 1 may sound more positive, I definitely consider Part 2 to be the better of the two films.

It got really messy there for a while, but managed to wrap it all up in a satisfying way -- the exact same satisfying way the book did of course, but redundancy is underrated. Actually, it's not, but it is forgivable. Especially in this case when the franchise was so tired for so long I actually thought it would sleepwalk right though the end, but, thankfully, it wound up waking up just in time to conclude with a bang almost loud enough to cover up the previous sounds of snoring. So, no, I don't think the two-part split was worth it, but all things considered... there are worse games to play.

Marvel's Daredevil

This review is spoiler-free, and 100% rave.

Matt Murdock, born and raised in Hell's Kitchen, was blinded in a traffic accident at age nine. Twenty or so years later he's still a blind resident of that neighborhood. He sets up shop as a defense attorney with his law school buddy Foggy Nelson. They plan to do their best to help make their city a better place. But at night, Matt goes the extra mile towards that goal; he dresses up like a modern-day Dread Pirate Roberts and fights crime more literally -- with his fists.

A disability is finally totally convincing as a viable superpower. I kid not.

So blindness isn't technically his superpower, but if it weren't for his loss of sight he never would have had superhuman abilities in his other senses that more than compensate for his loss. He listens to heartbeats to know if someone is lying or not; he can smell cologne several floors up from the wearer; if he tastes copper he knows there's an open wound in the room, and, he can even tell what's around him, down to the smallest detail, by just standing there and letting his senses put together a picture of it. No turning necessary. It's all incredible, yet never unbelievable.

And the perfect vehicle for this realistic, lower-powered hero is a Netflix series. They weren't restricted by a typical TV-14 rating boundary, and the TV-MA result is as dark and violent as is appropriate for a blind vigilante fighting crime in the dark corners of New York City -- very, on both counts. (Besides the violence the show would probably get a PG-13.) Sometimes the gore element goes over the top for my personal taste, but for the most part, this show's action -- brutal as it is -- is the element that set it apart, and into the category of "Best TV Shows I've Ever Had The Privilege Of Adoring." The second episode clinched that title, after the jaw-dropping climactic 3 minute battle that was filmed in one continuous shot. We immediately went back and re-watched that scene.

And then we watched it again. Then we speculated on how it was done. (Here's a pretty interesting article on the scene that confirms our theories, and makes me even more impressed, if that's possible.)

Before this, the one thing DC had on Marvel was its signature darkness, but now, Daredevil's epic, deliciously dark tone makes even the blackest DC offerings look like My Little Pony. Okay, not that much, but it certainly does make Arrow look like a soap opera. Daredevil doesn't skimp on the drama, but the drama is sensible, emotionally relevant and involving, never contrived, and not reused over and over until staleness turns to full-on rot, like many TV dramas like to do.

Really, it feels wrong to compare this show to the likes of Arrow or Agents of SHIELD. As good and fun as those shows can be on their own, they crumble into practically nothing when beside the high quality of Daredevil. While Daredevil can be compared side by side with any Marvel movie, and come away impressively unscathed. There are only two things that give away Daredevil's status as a TV show: the episode format (more like a mini-series in flavor but still), and the camera work -- that is, there are no super expensive shots from cranes or huge CGI shots. Practical effects and practical filming is used, and I wouldn't change that if I could. It has a beautiful, striking, gritty character, with lots of hard lighting, silhouettes, wide shots and immaculately focused close-ups.

In a word; contrast. Beautiful, beautiful, gritty contrast.

Charlie Cox is the portrayer of the black-masked hero, and the subject of those close-ups. Cox's casting was the first thing this show did that piqued my interest, because the only thing I'd seen him in before was Stardust (review). A super fun movie, and his performance in it was charming, but I never considered it to be a role requiring any special talent, so news that he was going to be Daredevil was unexpected. And unexpected is a very good thing.

I was very curious to see if he could pull off a dark and brooding Marvel superhero, and he didn't -- because Matt Murdock is way more than a brooder. Cox goes beyond the typical character mantra I assumed he would take, and did his part to help create a complicated, three-dimensional, film-quality character. He gets ten hours of development instead of two, so things do move along slower, but it doesn't matter; he earns our approval and affection almost immediately, and grows steadily from there. He has all the darkness and intensity that comes with the required "devil inside," but he also has that signature Marvel-hero charm, and a gentle and compassionate side that constantly fights for that perfect balance. He's a fantastically complicated mess of deadly fury, kindness, and idiotic bravery.

The Devil of Hell's Kitchen. He's more a "still waters really do run deep" type than a "I'm supposed to be brooding but really I'm concentrating my handsomeness" type, and is and the newest addition to my favorite superheroes. With new top favorite superhero costume.

Matt's real person, charming and friendly side is most prominent when he's around his friend and business partner Foggy. Foggy is played by Elden Henson, who I recognized as the memorable but mute member of Katniss' propaganda team in Mockingjay. He does even better when he gets to speak. He is the main source of comic relief, which there is more of than you'd think would be welcome considering the dark tone of the show, but it always is welcome, and is never silly or overdone or distracting of the darkness. Foggy and Matt's dynamic together is easy and fun, and watching them work as lawyers is good enough to be its own show, without all the vigilante-type crime fighting.

Then Deborah Ann Woll as Karen Page makes the third. Karen is Nelson and Murdock's first client, then she becomes their assistant, and fits right in with the dynamic of the other two. Foggy and Karen may be unaware of Matt's nightlife, but they get their time in the drama too. Toby Leonard Moore, who became an unexpected favorite, and Rosario Dawson and Vondie Curtis-Hall round out the rest of the supporting cast I think needs a mention, though there's never a trace of bad acting to be found in the entire lot.

Matt and Foggy doing lawyer stuffs.

 
With a few exceptions, the episodes seem to split the attention on the hero with attention on the villain, Kingpin, or Wilson Fisk, or just "my employer" to his many servants who are forbidden to speak his name. He is played powerfully, with mesmerizing idiosyncrasy by Vincent D'Onofrio. Most of what is disturbing and overly violent in the show revolves around him. He is one of the more unsettling superhero villains out there, but has a strangely sympathetic aspect to him. Not so much to make you actually sympathize with him, but maybe feel like you could... if he wasn't so incredibly evil and disturbingly creepy.

There's never a trace of bad acting, as I said, but this guy stands outs even more.

Daredevil practically reinvents how to tell a secondary superhero story, and the method is simple; tell it like it's a primary superhero story. They deserve nothing less. Netflix gave this series a chance to be something different, and break out of the mold, and that is exactly what it did -- to memorable, mind-blowing, bar-raising results. So much so that they outdid themselves too early, and slid back to end the show at a lower, more traditionally Marvel point; which was still great, but less exceptionally different than earlier episodes. Credit for the overall outstanding creativeness can and should go to every unique aspect, and every person involved, but mainly I think it should go to the writing.

The writing is what guides the rest of the show, and leaves behind the typical campiness of Marvel and the overly serious melodrama of DC for a bold and sensible seriousness that's not afraid to go deep into the dark, and leave behind some scars. The story it gives us is often daring, with a smart, complex, and steadily paced plot line that doesn't actually feel like it's being made up on the spot for a compelling change. It sets that rich, meticulously dark tone, provides a balance of high-quality comedy for the darkness, and serves us with action sequences that are awesomely jaw-dropping, painfully grueling, and immensely satisfying to watch.

Daredevil is changing things. In the Marvel Universe, and in ours.

Superhero movies and TV shows have been around and popular -- extremely popular -- for a long time now. They're all around us, and it's easy to wonder if we're witnessing the peak of their super-powered high; if they've nearly reached their potential for wonder, exciting action, and real-life moral dilemmas. Daredevil, the first of its kind in a world full of its kind, reminds us that there are many more stories out there like it; that don't fit in a cookie-cutter shape, and are full of involving plots, exciting action, and magnificent heroes, waiting in the unexplored darkness for a chance to save the day.