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The Hunger Games (2012)

Based on the bestselling novels by Suzanna Collins, The Hunger Games is set in the alternative state of Panem (what was once North America). Each year the Capitol forces the random selection of one boy & one girl, from the ages of 12-18, from each of the 12 districts to compete in a televised battle, where only one person can survive.

Having not read the books my excitement for the film was based on speculation and advertisement alone. I spend a lot of time on community sites such as tumblr and 9gag, and leading up to its release the users were making a considerable amount of noise.

Some are funnier than this.

What first intrigued me was the story. With parallels being drawn with the Japanese film Battle Royale (2000), and having been a fan of that film, I hoped that The Hunger Games would emulate the brutality and totalitarian feel of Fukasaku’s film.

Now that I’ve watched the film, I feel that it took the idea one step further. For me Collins’ presents to us the natural extension of what we already have, albeit it in an exaggerated way: the rich staying rich, the poor being used for entertainment, the fashion becoming more outlandish, the game shows more violent.

Jokes have already been made about the inhabitants of the Capitol resembling a Lady Gaga show, but thats the point; we can already see the future in our present, which is what makes the film all the more gripping (and terrifying).

The opening is stunning. Whereas the trailer hammed up the emotions with a soundtrack and dramatic editing, in the film the all important ‘Tribute’ ceremony is stripped bare, the shaky camera and stark soundtrack creating something that would have been more at home in a Shane Meadows film. The screams from Primrose Evergeeen (Willow Shields) and her older sister Katniss (Jennifer Lawrence) are utterly heartbreaking, and ring absolutely anyone with siblings themselves.

This bleak opening is contrasted nicely with the sprawling lavishness of the Capitol, where we share Katniss’ bewilderment and over-powerment of it all.

Wrath of the Titans (2012)

Last night I went to the cinema with my good friend Mike with express intentions of watching ‘The Hunger Games’, the big screen adaptation of Susanna Collins bestselling book. Being a Wednesday night during the Easter break, we fully expected there to be cues, so it was a surprise when we entered to an almost deserted auditorium. “Must be out lucky day!” we thought.

Pictured: having a good time

It wasn’t.

Turns out all 3 previous screenings of the film were SOLD OUT. In hindsight it was obvious: the film boasts the third highest opening weekend of any movie in history (a cool $155 million).

After being awe-struck at the news that possibly every teenage girl in our town had gone to see ‘The Hunger Games’ tonight, we were suddenly left with a choice; walk home in the rain, or see another film. After staring like children at the film listings for half an hour we made our decision: ‘Wrath of the Titans’.

Pictured: not having a good time

I never saw the 2010 remake of Clash of the Titans, due in part to the poor reviews and to my own reluctance to sour the taste left in my mouth from the classic original. Which was a shame to be honest. When the remake was first announced I couldn’t have been happier. The original, though brilliant in my eyes, has clearly dated, and whilst the stop motion animation is impressive, it serves now as a clear indication of its age. With todays technology, I thought, this story could be brought to life properly.

Alas, I was wrong. Again, I haven’t seen the original, but judging by the reviews (Metacritic score of 39, Rotten Tomatoes score of 28) I’m not missing much.

So it was with trepidation that I agreed to see its sequel. I figured at best the film would satiate my desire to witness violence (preferably in ancient Greece), and at worst…it would be ‘Clash of the Titans’ (2010).

Pleasantly, the film was good. Borderline very good. Having free reign with the story clearly helped the filmmakers break loose and have fun. The camerawork is jittery, the editing fast paced, creating an exciting, almost unpredictable level of enjoyment. It feels brave, especially in comparison to many other popcorn blockbusters whose ‘spoon-feed’ approach to narrative can be incredibly grating. In fairness ‘Titans’ has its fair share of exposition speeches, but having not seen the previous film I found them less annoying than most people.

The action sequences are top notch, and easily the best thing about the film. Going back to the technical point, the camerawork and editing work together to build and sustain the tension throughout the scenes. When violence does break out, its over so quickly that it barely registers on the eye. You constantly feel on the back foot, in a good way, as if the filmmakers are holding something back.

The scene that bests demonstrates this occurs in the Labyrinth, the network of constantly changing walls and floors eventually leading into the heart of Tartarus (the underworld prison). Hephaestus, Greek God of technology and designer/builder of the Labyrinth, describes it as a place that confuses the mind, as “…the mind is the ultimate trap.”

Inside, demi-god Perseus (Sam Worthington) gets separated from Andromeda (Rosamund Pike) and Agenor (Toby Kebbell) getting into a fight with a minotaur along the way, before finally re-teaming with his group at the entrance to the Tartarus.

The whole sequence is presented as reality, but events occur that we know to be impossible, such as Helius (Perseus’ son, played by John Bell) walking past, dirty and bruised, noting “It’s cold in here isn’t it?”

This effect creates a sense of unease in the viewer, as from this point on we can no longer trust what we see as real. This adds tension to the fight with the minotaur, and more depth of meaning; is the minotaur a metaphor for his fear, and in defeating it is he simply conquering the challenge of the Labyrinth?

Editors & Directors

In the book series ‘Filmcraft’, Editing edition (written by Justin Chang), there is a lovely anecdote told by Dylan Tichenor about his time editing Ang Lee’s ‘Brokeback Mountain’ (2005).

“We has this lengthly discussion on Brokeback Mountain about these interstitial shots of running water, two or three of which i had flipped so that the water an from left to right. Ang said, “Did you flip those shots?” I said yes, because left to right suggests time passing, and he said, “Oh, for me, right to left feels like time passing” – because, or course, Chinese lettering reads from from right to left. We agreed to split the shots, so half of them would go from left to right, and the other half would go right to left.”

Tichenor has worked with some of the best directors in the world on some of the finest films in recent memory, and as result has had to adapt to a variety of different styles. Working on ‘Brokeback Mountain’, and his long time collaboration with Paul Thomas Anderson have shown that he can handle the long paced, dialogue heavy films alongside the more mainstream movies like Drew Barrymore’s ‘Whip It’ (2009).

In his interview he speaks at length about holding the audiences attention, and the risks involved:

“It can be dangerous to let the mind wander, because you risk sacrificing chunks of your audience; it can also be very effective. You have to be very careful when doing that. Art should be made, no question; there should be room for that in American cinema. Not every film should be Spider-man, Iron Man, or Transformers. But you can go too far in the other direction if you slow the pace to the point where the motion of ideas is stopping, and as an editor, I never like to do that.”

He goes on to say that whilst its his job to be…”a surrogate audience”, it’s the directors job to push back at editors, to suggest changes and ultimately decide on the outcome.

The Artist (2011)

Directed by Michel Hazanavicius, ‘The Artist’ is a silent film set Hollywood 1927. George Valentin (Jean Dujardin), a silent movie star who struggles to stay afloat in the industry after the arrival of talking pictures. The film is presented as a traditional silent movie, projected in 4:3 aspect ratio, black and white colour and no synch sound (other than a wonderful dream sequence, and the final dance sequence at the end of the film).

Naturally the film relies heavily on the synergy of the picture and the score. The film has a natural comedic sensibility, and at 100 minutes the tightness of the edit ensures the film ticks along at a jogging pace. One of the best scenes to demonstrate this is the first time George stars alongside his love interest Peppy Miller (Bérénice Bejo). It shows the two actors going through multiple takes of the same shots; George walking through a crowd of dancers, bumping into Peppy and beginning to dance with her. Each take has the same basic structure, but the details create the comedy.

With each take George’s expression gets more serious as he tries to take the shot seriously, and each time he messes it up his corpsing becomes more and more dramatic. The chemistry between them becomes heightened with each take also,  steadily revealing an attraction that had been hinted at when they first met outside the cinema.

Network (1976)

‘Network’ is the tale of Howard Beale, a former TV anchorman who suffers an on air meltdown after being relived of his services due to declining ratings. His bosses spot an opportunity and decide to rehire Beale as a conspiracy nut, causing the ratings to explode.

From first impressions I assumed the films protagonist would be Howard Beale. However, as the film progresses you realise that he is the subject of everyone else’s observations. We’re first introduced to him via voice over, establishing that this story is about him, not through him. When we first see him is with his longtime friend Max Schumacher. Whenever he’s not with another of the key cast he is performing on his show, being watched by an audience of millions.

The next logical assumption is that his friend, Max, is the protagonist, but that can also be denounced. Although he has more screen time than Beale and is part of some of the key scenes of the story, he seems more like the antagonist, as he acts as the opposition to most of the networks plans to exploit Beale.

Therefore the only natural conclusion, as far as I’m concerned is that the TV network UBS is the protagonist, including all its key players Diana Christensen, Frank Hackett and Arthur Jensen . The theory is supported by the 3-act structure.

• Inciting incident: Howard Beale is given his 2-week notice.
• Plot Point 1: Howard gives his ‘farewell’ news reading.
• Mid point: Howard delivers his infamous speech, “I’m as mad as hell, and i’m not going to take this anymore!”
• Plot Point 2: Arthur Jensen insists that Beale remains on the air, depute falling ratings.
• Climax: UBS issues the assignation of Howard Beale.

All of the key decisions of the film are made by the network, all of the dramatic rises and falls occur to the network.

Its an interesting narrative decision, similar to The Shining, in which the protagonist is not Jack, his son or wife, but the ghost that haunts him.

Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (2011)

At the beginning of  ’Tinker Tailor’, head of British Intelligence  Control (John Hurt) is telling the agent Jim Prideaux (Mark Strong) that he wants him to meet with an Hungarian general who wishes to defect. The dialogue is played over the footage of Jim traveling to meet the general. The way the general is introduced is a wonderful moment of subtlety.

We see Jim walking from right to left of frame, Control explaining, “I have had an offer of service. A Hungarian general wants to come over.”

Cut to a shot of a black suited man walking at a brisk pace from left to right of frame. Control: “I would like you to meet him.”

And just like that we are told: who this man in the black suit is, where he is, who he’s meeting, who Jim is meeting, what their meeting it about; pretty much everything from that one line of dialogue and a simple match to an image. We don’t need to hear the general’s physical description as our minds connect the dots instantly.

This type of editing is used throughout the film and, for me, is the reason the film was so engaging. Despite it being billed as a slow moving, thinking mans James Bond, the film actually moves along at a considerable pace, due mainly to the complicated narrative and inherent difficulties of adapting a book for the screen. This fast cutting was a necessity to cram the immense amount of story into 2 hours, and as a result the filmmakers must rely on the audience being able to connect the dots on multiple occasions.

It also forced to you to remember, to do some of the detective work yourself. Whilst drinking with his partner Peter Guillam (Benedict Cumberbatch), George Smiley (Gary Oldman) tells him the story of Karla, the Russian spymaster who dictates the movements and activities of the mole inside the circus, who he lends a lighter to and doesn’t give back. Later on in the film we spot an elderly man smoking in a cafe, his face obscured. We zoom in to reveal a silver lighter resting on the table, engraved with the message described by  Smiley; “To George, from Ann. All my love.”

Just before then we hear another mention of the lighter, when Smiley travels to interview Prideaux. He explains that whilst being tortured a “little fellow” shows him a lighter, making sure he notices the engraving. We also find out that Karla was sitting in a cafe right by the street where Prideaux was shot and captured.

This detail establishes Karla as a key player in the story, and would not have been clear had the details been revealed in a different order.