(BEWARE: the following contains multiple spoilers to both The Hunger Games movie and book).
Brace yourself for sacrilege. Channel your inner outrage. Prepare to pepper me with poisonous, pointed pricks of pain meant to wound my inner child.
I’ll now pause for a moment for everyone to re-locate their jaws and get the initial rush of hate-filled invective ready for me.
(Done yet? Now? Feel better? Breathe … BREATHE …)
Yes, I do believe it’s true: The movie surpasses the 2009 book written by Suzanne Collins. And, for those who know me well, this is FAR from a common stance for me to take. In fact, I can probably count on two hands the number of times I’ve preferred a movie over its literary counterpart.
Examples include:
- The Last of the Mohicans — Seriously, if a person truly wants to punish themselves, try to sit down and make head or tails of James Fenimore Cooper’s nonsensical prose. While Michael Mann’s movie only resembled the plot of the book in passing, that’s a good thing since trying to figure out the plot of the book actually means deciphering what’s going on in Cooper’s obviously laudanum-induced dreamland of the colonial United States.
- The Shining — This wasn’t a case of the book being bad – Stephen King’s tome on madness closing in on a snowbound family was excellent – it’s more a case of an absolutely classic movie adaptation being crafted by a wondrous filmmaker in Stanley Kubrick.
- One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest —Again, not a bad book by Ken Kesey, but the movie starring a crazed Jack Nicholson overshadows it entirely.
- American Psycho — Just an OK book – the movie, however, is a cult classic. The first-person narrative of the book took away from its impact: it’s hard to have a insane man be the only guide for a reader.
- Children of Men — I love apocalyptic and dystopian fiction, but I found this novel by P.D. James to be, quite frankly, BORING. For the movie, they took the basics of the plot and added the quaint notion of INTERESTING THINGS HAPPENING.
- No Country For Old Men — Put succinctly, Cormac McCarthy’s writing style is distracting to me. Buried in his weird style are GREAT stories, but I become annoyed wading through his narrative methods. The movie laid the story out there in a much more digestible, and emotional, format.
These are just ones that come to mind, there obviously could be more of which I’m not thinking. However, this is a good starter list.
And now, we can throw The Hunger Games on there. I will say it definitely isn’t anything like the unreadable Last of the Mohicans. Instead, the film/movie comparison is closer to One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest: a case of a good, solid read being crafted into a semi-classic movie.
For starters, there’s the problem of the clumsy first-person narrative in the book, which is also one of the things that also bothered me about the book version of American Psycho: I felt the literary-framing device of not informing the reader of anything more than the main character knows limited what could have been greater enjoyment for the audience.
For The Hunger Games’ film production, director Gary Ross* wisely eschewed this version. The end result was a win for the audience as we were able to keep track of what was going on away from Katniss’ immediate surroundings. We saw the gamemakers plotting. We saw the unrest in the other districts. We saw the concern by Gale, Prim and the others left back in District 12. We saw the machinations behind the scenes of the Games themselves by President Snow and Head Gamemaker Seneca Crane – who wasn’t even mentioned by name in the first novel.
(*This was only Ross’ third time in the director’s chair. His previous efforts were 1998’s underrated Pleasantville and 2003’s wonderful Seabiscuit. With Michael Bay polluting our cinemas on a yearly basis and even the up-and-down-and-down-and-down Clint Eastwood always emerging every few months to collect undeserved hosannas, can we please find some more things for Ross to direct?)
However, the biggest thing missing in the book I enjoyed in the cinema was the pure emotion dripping from the screen during many of the biggest scenes of the story. I found this emotion to be lacking – if not missing entirely – in the book.
There are a number of examples of scenes I felt forced me into emotional involvement in the movie that seemed to be glossed over with a couple of paragraphs of the book. The most notable being the “launch room” scene with Katniss and Cinna minutes before she is to start the Games themselves.
In the movie scene, you finally see Katniss’ defense mechanism of surliness and standoffish attitude melt away and, for the first time, realize she’s just a teenaged girl possibly minutes away from death. Jennifer Lawrence’s performance here was magnificent – by barely saying a word, emoting mostly with panicked breathing and absolutely HAUNTED eyes, Lawrence dragged the viewer right into the launch room with her and made them feel the fear closing in on her.
When Cinna pulled Katniss close to calm her down, he was channeling what the entire audience wanted to do … and, in a way, was calming the audience down as well. As Katniss’ launch tube slowly moved to the surface and the arena of the Games, we again saw the scared girl in her eyes, in her entire BODY, and felt as if we were right there next to Cinna watching her ascend.
Meanwhile, in the book … well, let’s put it this way: I just wrote as much describing that scene as Collins penned in the book. While it’d be flippant to say it was glossed over, it did all take place within a few paragraphs on a single page.
This is the inherent problem with reading young adult literature: it’s targeted for young adults. Hence its name. Therefore, you end up with stories that don’t dwell on the details older, more experienced readers, tend to enjoy. I simply felt there were too many scenes fraught with emotional impact that didn’t jump out to grab me in the novel as they did on the screen where they were brought to life in a fuller, more complete, ADULT way.
I will admit there are things the book does better than the movie. There’s been plenty of sturm and drang about the absence of the mayor’s daughter and how Katniss originally came about possessing her signature mockingjay pin. There are also parts of the movie that, if you hadn’t read the book beforehand, would leave you scratching your head in trying to decipher a piece of dialogue.
And, for myself, the biggest disappointment in the movie adaptation was the way it portrayed the “romance” between Katniss and Peeta during the Games: the feeling of duplicitousness by Katniss of “playing it up” for the audience back at the Capitol was not as strong in the movie as in the book, leaving a moviegoer to think she was ACTUALLY falling madly in love with the baker’s son and was absolutely ready to commit “Berry”cide with him.
Still, even weighing those issues, I prefer the movie version to the book. Not by a wide margin and not enough to engage in what I know are heated arguments awaiting me, but enough to matter.
Emotional content means something. I regularly describe myself as being “emotionally involved” in a football or baseball game if I’ve been totally sucked into the goings on. This is opposed to my unemotionally-involved sportswriter façade I put on if I’m trying to only clinically view a game unobstructed by emotions. Sportswriting is work; it’s a job. Going to a movie or reading a book most certainly is not – I WANT my emotions tantalized during those events.
It’s something I felt the movie was superior in achieving compared to the book … which is why I enjoyed it more.
