"Mockingjay," Despite Being the First Part of a Cash Grab, Is Pretty Good and Might Even Make You Think

The Hunger Games: Mockingjay - Part 1

The Hunger Games series has become popular enough (among diverse groups, not just teenagers) that comparisons to other young adult series make less and less sense.  The first (The Hunger Games) and second film (Catching Fire) were still similar to other properties because of the love triangle and youth contest aspect, but things change with Mockingjay – Part 1.  To be fair, it is similar to other properties in that they decided on a cash grab by dividing the last film into two parts (more on that later), but the subject matter of the film has certainly changed.  First, no more Games.  This is refreshing since the only real problem I had with Catching Fire was that it was a little too similar to the first film.  Now, they took that fire of rebellion from the first film and dove right in.  This is no longer a young adult series about figuring out your place in the world and picking the right boyfriend; this is a full blown war film with brutal elements of physical and mental warfare.  And the series is better for that brutality because it gives the audience, young and old, something to think about in regards to the real world.

Mockingjay picks up where Catching Fire left off.  By bringing an end to the Hunger Games, Katniss (Jennifer Lawrence) unwittingly started a revolution between the Capitol and the rest of the Districts (with District 13 taking charge).  Now Katniss is left to dwell on the last Games, shouldering the blame for Peeta being left behind.  But the leader of District 13, President Coin (Julianne Moore), and past-Gameskeeper/current-revolutionary Plutarch Heavensbee (Philip Seymour Hoffman) want Katniss to be the face of the revolution.  They want her to be the Mockingjay that rallies the rest of the Districts to fight the Capitol.  What follows is a mix of war and propaganda that reminded me of the “Join up!” scenes from Starship Troopers.

The use of propaganda in the film is interesting because it takes what could have been a cookie-cutter revolution film and turns it into something a bit more thought-provoking.  It’s not that revolutions aren’t interesting, but how many films do we really need that simply state, “Autocratic rulers bad, common people good”?  I think everyone, even the youth of the world, understand that.  The use of propaganda shows that war isn’t just about the physical battlefield.  On top of that, it brings up questions about the ethics of propaganda.  Katniss is first tasked with filming a revolution commercial in front of a green screen.  This goes as badly as you can imagine.  Unfortunately, the film plays it for laughs rather than commentary.  No one thought it unethical to fake a triumphant war moment for Katniss.  (Slight SPOILER with the rest of this paragraph and the caption of the picture below.)  And when they do decide she should actually be involved with the war, it’s not because they want it to be real, it’s because Katniss isn’t a good actress and needs a real moment to respond to.  This is where the film is at its darkest without even acknowledging it.  Katniss goes into the field and her presence leads to an attack in which many people are killed.  This spurs the propaganda video the revolutionaries need.  The problem here is that no one points out that the attack would not have happened if Katniss hadn’t been there.  Hundreds of people are killed for the sake of a viral video for their revolution, and no one bats an eye. 

"Now Katniss, you're absolutely sure that nothing bad will happen to us because of your visit, right?"

That is not to say that Katniss doesn’t accept blame in the film.  She blames herself for Peeta’s capture.  What is upsetting is that she could not have possibly saved him, but she could have decided not to go into the field and be bomb-bait for hundreds of people.  She has no issues with that and simply chalks the attack up to Capitol evilness.  Katniss should be a little more skeptical at this point since she’s been used as a pawn by others for two films now.  This is possibly overthinking it all, and hopefully more issues like this are focused on (and if they stick to the book, they will be) in the second part.  Still, it seems like someone should have at least been angry about what caused the attack instead of sitting around patting each other on the back for creating such stirring propaganda.

The propaganda obviously brings up plenty of issues in the film, but it is also a bit of a weakness, as well.  It isn’t just Katniss making videos.  President Snow (Donald Sutherland, looking as crazy-eyed evil as ever) gives speeches throughout, and Peeta (Josh Hutcherson) gives a series of interviews trying to dissuade everyone from fighting.  What this means is that a large portion of the film is presented on screens.  So the audience is basically watching videos along with the characters of the film.  There really isn’t a way around this, but it’s easy to see why some might label this film “slow” or even “boring.”  This might be where younger audiences split with the older.  I’m not sure the propaganda issues that came to my mind will be what younger viewers focus on.  Regardless, watching characters watch screens is not visually compelling cinema. 

This brings me to my only true issue with this film: it should not be a two part event.  It’s not that this film drags on, it just repeats itself at times.  For instance, Katniss visits the bombed out District 12 near the beginning of the film to see the true extent of the Capitol’s atrocity, and later in the film she is sent back to District 12 to…see the true extent of the Capitol’s atrocity, but this time on camera!  It seemed like they could have killed two birds (mockingjays?) with one stone with that scene.  Once the second film comes out, I imagine the total running time of Mockingjay will reach around four hours.  That would be far too long for a single movie in this series, of course, but I think the story of this final book could easily be pared down to a three hour movie.  This just felt too much like a cash grab from the studio.  It doesn’t take away from my enjoyment of Mockingjay – Part 1 or anything.  It’s just that we’re going to end up with two “pretty good” movies when there might have been a great one. 

Speaking of great, everything that has made this series beloved is back for this third installment.  All of the performances are fine once again.  The new additions are welcome; Julianne Moore is a perfect choice for Coin, and it was nice to see Marhashala Ali (House of Cards) as Boggs.  There is a bit less action this time around, but the war scenes are handled quite well.  Director Francis Lawrence has truly given this series a signature look and that continues with this film.

Most importantly, Mockingjay shows how this series has grown up.  It’s a movie aimed at the young, but it is filled with adult issues and ideas.  In fact, there is an argument to be made that this could be rated R.  There are quite a few scenes of brutal violence, and the body count is extremely high.  And Finnick’s speech late in the film, though it is ignored by the characters (and most likely, the audience) reveals some very disturbing things that he was subjected to in the Capitol.  I honestly think if the film had focused on what he was saying a bit more, the rating may have changed.  This is all a positive, by the way.  Even though the propaganda scenes left me wanting more conflict, and the film repeats itself, it’s still a very enjoyable and rewarding experience.  The fact that a movie meant for people half my age made me think this much is a testament to how good this series is.  It’s just too bad we have to wait an entire year to see it end.

The Hunger Games: Mockingjay - Part 1 receives a:

"Fury" - A Review in Which I Sincerely Praise the Acting of Shia LaBeouf...

                Fury

Good acting, Shia, but I don't know about that mustache...

                  American tank movies are few and far between in cinematic history possibly because of the less than enthralling claustrophobic quality of a tank.  It might also have something to do with the fact that the German tanks were superior to American tanks during World War II so there aren’t many feel-good, gung-ho true stories to work with.  This might be why writer/director David Ayer decided to write a fictional story for his tank movie, Fury.  But while the film might be a bit gung-ho, there is certainly nothing feel-good about it.

                Fury, at its core, is a miserable story about the horrors of war.  It doesn’t dwell on the horror or even condemn it, however.  Instead, the focus is on what war does to a man, or group of men, in this case.  Fury is a warts and all depiction of brotherhood through war.  Most war films cover this unique relationship, but few filmmakers have realized that the tank is the perfect setting to condense that complicated situation into a film.  (The only film that came to mind as I watched this was The Beast, an under-watched 1988 film about a Russian tank crew in Afghanistan.)  While the inside of a tank does not make for a compelling visual, it does wonders for character interaction.

                The characters are what make Fury interesting, but also strange.  The plot of the film is essentially about a newcomer, Norman (Logan Lerman), to the crew of the titular tank, Fury, and his initiation by fire (quite literally) into World War II.  Since this is a fictional story, there is no historic grand battle for Fury to take part in, instead the plot is relegated to vague missions about “holding the line” and not giving up.  The story truly does not matter since this is a character study.  It is a strange character study because we learn almost nothing about most of the characters apart from their role in the war.  Some might see this as a weakness, but it is actually beneficial to the story.  Fury does not attempt to create complete characters, just men shaped by war.  It isn’t important to know what Brad Pitt’s character did before the war.  Perhaps it would add a level of complexity to the proceedings if it turned out that this brutal man was actually a librarian or something, but that would be cheesy and unnecessary.  No matter what jobs these characters had back home, there job now is to kill other people.  Fury attempts to show the disturbing effects war has on the soldiers.  Whether or not it successfully does that is up for debate.

                When we meet the tank crew, they are already battle-hardened and on edge.  Don “Wardaddy” Collier (Pitt) is the tough leader, whose most important mission is to protect his men.  (There is actually no point in naming the other characters because their names are fairly forgettable and/or underused.  In fact, I didn’t know what Brad Pitt’s character’s name was until I looked it up on IMDb a few minutes ago.  This all goes back to the lack of character development beyond the moment of each scene.)  The other men in the tank are played by Shia LaBeouf (the religious one), Jon Bernthal (the redneck), Michael Peña (the driver), and Logan Lerman (the new guy).  Just because the names of the characters are not important does not mean that these are one-note characters.  It just means they can be identified more easily by their first impression. 

                Instead of getting to know these characters in depth, we just discover them in battle, which is the point of the film.  If Fury has something to say about the effects of war on a person, then knowing anything about that character beforehand belittles that point.  It does not matter what these characters were, look at what they have become.  And they have become brutal, cold killing machines.  This makes Fury more of a spiritual companion to Full Metal Jacket more than Saving Private Ryan.  Although, tonally, this film is even more depressing than Jacket.  All of the main characters say or do things that make you wonder whether they are “good” men throughout the film.  They are never meant to be hated, though, quite the opposite.  These men are meant to be pitied for what war has done to them.  Because of that, and because of casting, it’s easy to end up liking this crew, despite some of their harsher moments.

                Brad Pitt brings some natural authority to his role, and he’s as likable as always.  It was a bit hard to divorce this character from the one he played in Inglourious Basterds, however.  It’s not that they are all that similar (though they both are very good at killing NATzees…), it’s just that the roles are close together in his filmography.  Bernthal provides the sole comedic relief of the film with his almost cartoonish redneck antics, and that is certainly welcome in such grim proceedings.  Peña is proving to be a very diverse actor with this role (I know him mostly from comedies like Eastbound & Down and Observe and Report).  Lerman doesn’t get a lot to do aside from look scared/angry, but he handles it well.  Surprisingly (to me, at least), LaBeouf was the most impressive.  Perhaps it’s because of his off-screen behavior, but he’s hard to take seriously.  But here, he truly appeared to be in the moment, and his performance allowed his character to be the most complex of the film. 

                The performances in a war film are the most important aspect of it, especially if it is making a statement on war itself.  But it’s also very important to present the action in a realistic way, as well.  Fury has some of the most effective and tense battle sequences of recent memory.  It is also shockingly gory at times.  It does tiptoe that fine line between realism and glorification, but realism does win out, for the most part.  There are still battle sequences that the more gung-ho viewer can fist pump to, but most viewers will feel the brutality rather than cheer it on.  The only thing that hampers the action is the music.

                Normally, the score to a war film is naturally patriotic, somber, rousing, etc.  And that is as it should be.  But Fury is an anti-war film meant to display the real brutality of the violence.  There was no soundtrack during the real battles of WWII, and Fury would have been even more effective if the filmmakers would have left out the soundtrack as well.  The audience doesn’t need “sad” music playing when characters have died to let us know that it is sad.  It is just insulting to the audience to think that they wouldn’t know when to feel sad.  Also, using music that sounds borderline militaristic during battle scenes takes away from the realistic tone the film was going for.  It doesn’t ruin the film, but it certainly cheapens it from time to time.  When it comes to disturbing violence, silence is the most effective option.

                Despite that slight misstep, Fury should go down as one of the better war films in recent decades.  While it wasn’t memorable enough to be considered one of the best ever (the topic of war has just been covered too much for new ground to be broken…), it has certainly earned its place as one of, if not the, best tank film ever made. 

Fury receives a:

"How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Accept that Jason Statham Cannot Die...

...or Jason Statham Can Only Be Killed by Martian Ghosts, Jet Li, or William H. Macy."

*If it wasn't clear from the title, this article is going to contain spoilers for a lot of Jason Statham movies...and Executive Decision...and Romeo & Juliet.

I’ve always considered Jason Statham a very unlikely action star. After his stint in Guy Ritchie’s first two films I found it interesting that he would assume the role of the everyman action hero. Oddly enough, the cockney rhyming hustler from England was a natural in the action genre. I am pretty much a Statham fan at this point, having seen almost all of his films (though I certainly did not like every one of them). It was only after watching his latest action effort, The Mechanic, that I realized something peculiar: Jason Statham is borderline immortal.

Let’s start with the last film first. In the original Mechanic, both characters deservedly die at the end. It made sense, Bronson was remorseful for his years of killing and Jan-Michael Vincent was just cocky and annoying, so their deaths worked for me. Fast forward to the remake. Looking good so far, Statham blows up at a gas station and Foster blows up in a fancy car, roll credits, right? No! Statham did a crazy monkey roll away from the vehicle just in time to survive! Why? Is it sequelitis? C’mon, like there was ever going to be a chance for this one to get a theatrical sequel. Even if it did get the sequel treatment it would probably go the way of another Statham remake, Death Race. In that sequel, which was DTV, Statham was not involved and if there is a sequel for The Mechanic, it is doubtful he would be in it.

The lack of Statham’s death bothered me. His death would have made sense as being faithful to the original “and” it would make sense for this movie in its own right. You might be thinking, “Big deal, it’s just a Jason Statham movie, and not a particularly good one at that.” I understand that sentiment, but there was this nagging question in the back of my mind: had Statham actually ever died on film?

Not to leave anyone in suspense: yes, Jason Statham has died on film. In my extensive research (where’s the ironic font when you need it?), I have found just three possibilities out of twenty-six films. One of them is an obvious Statham fatality, while the other two could potentially be argued.

First, Ghosts of Mars, the John Carpenter sci-fi film about, you guessed it, ghosts on the planet of Mars. Statham wasn’t a star of this one and it was actually one of his earliest action efforts. In other words, he was still expendable at this point because he wasn’t a name, which kind of makes this death null and void. But I’ll accept it. Consider this, though: Statham has only been definitively killed onscreen by Martian ghosts that inhabit human bodies turning them into kill-crazy monsters…and it took a few of them to take him out. (Time out to acknowledge the greatness of Mr. Carpenter. Ghosts may not be his strongest effort, but the man killed off Statham, and for that, I salute him.)

The second film is Cellular, but this one seems criminal to count. It was before Statham could share top billing in a film like The Expendables. Plus, he’s playing the clichéd villain in a crappy movie that is more of a Nokia commercial than it is a film. William H. Macy does put him down, but I didn’t see him in a body bag…and who knows? Those clichéd villains rarely stay dead after one shot. But yeah, he pretty much died there.

Third up is War, one of the many Jet Li co-starring vehicles for Statham. The film delivers on its promise as Li and Statham go to war against each other. The movie’s poster sets up the idea that one of these guys has to die. Technically, Li died very early on, but through a ridiculous plot twist, his identity stays alive, so victory for Li. He does take out Statham, but it’s another of those vague deaths. We see a shot hit Statham and he drops, but there’s no close up and it wasn’t a head shot. Unless we are shown a close up of Statham’s face and hear an audible death rattle, I’m claiming this one to be open-ended. But once again, yeah, he’s kind of dead. (Side note, there could be an entire article on the evolution of the Statham-Li matchups. I would say that Statham is clearly winning the battle at this point with his higher billing in The Expendables.)

Now your question is, “What’s with this stupid article? All you’ve done is proven yourself wrong, albeit begrudgingly.” To that I say, “Why are you still reading?” Just kidding. I justify this article because those deaths were weak and/or too early in Statham’s career to truly count. This article exists because of all the recent ridiculous ways Statham has laughed at death on film.

How about the Crank series? Those two films are literally about Statham dying the entire film. This tells me Statham is in on the joke that is his newfound cinematic immortality. Chev Chelios has to run around keeping his heart pumping with the promise that he will die in the end. The guy even falls out of a helicopter without a parachute at the end of the first one, only to wake up miraculously alive for the sequel. I know those films are tongue in cheek, but is it asking that much to at least kill the guy off in the sequel?

Then there are the annoying fake deaths. In the Death Race remake, he uses a decoy to get away and lives happily ever after. Even more infuriating, in the lesser known Chaos, Statham’s character actually fakes his own death. That’s almost too much for me, but it gets much, much worse.

Jason Statham has defied the works of William Shakespeare to stay alive on film. Not since Steven Seagal refused to film his ridiculous death scene in Executive Decision has a more atrocious example of immortality been attempted. (To be clear, I am not comparing the works of Shakespeare to Executive Decision, though that film is kind of a fun watch.) I am, of course, referencing Gnomeo & Juliet. Statham voiced Tybalt in the recent animated film and as we all (should) know, Tybalt is killed in the original play. Tybalt the garden gnome does get broken in the film, which is the equivalent of death in a children’s movie, but by the end he has been reassembled. Statham’s desire to live knows no bounds.

To wrap up, this article has obviously been a bit facetious. I enjoy Statham’s films, if for nothing else than to see if he dies at this point. But it’s strange how he survives so much. I’m sorry, but this guy does not deserve Schwarzenegger-like life spans in his films. He has potential to be that one action star that can also die…it would be original. Instead, he stars in movies about people who are expendable but actually aren’t at all since so many of them survive. He fakes his death. He plays characters that are supposed to be dying the entire time, but they don’t. But what can you do but hope for next time? Statham does have a film in the can right now called Blitz. It’s about a cop (Statham) who is hunting a serial killer. (Sigh.) I wonder who’s going to come out on top. I’m not condoning mass murder, but my fingers are crossed for the serial killer.