film review

I guess I’m the only one. At least I’m definite in my opinions, right? I mean, you wouldn’t want me to be one of those people who said it was great just because everybody said it was great, right? No one would care what she thought. Maybe I like going against the grain. Maybe negative reviews are just a whole lot easier (and more fun) to write. But, as one critic hinted at to a more positive effect, the only thing worse than being a man stuck alone on a planet is being a woman stuck alone in a movie theater watching a man stuck alone on a planet.

If you’ll pardon the double negative, I did not not like The Martian. I can’t think of any Matt Damon movie not worth at least checking out. I just got really, really bored. At two hours, twenty-one minutes, it felt a lot longer. Like watching potatoes grow. Literally.

There were the ever present shades of movies like Cast Away and Apollo 13 (much more successful movies to my mind). Like Cast Away, it was often just one man and the camera, though Tom Hanks pulled it off for much more of the movie while The Martian kept cutting back to Earth to see what the good folks at NASA were doing – usually mucking things up by playing politics. Hey, you can’t blame director Ridley Scott for trying to drum up some tension.

And who wasn’t reminded of Apollo 13 as we watched scientists tackle problem after problem while the whole world roots for everyone to make it back safe and sound? Somehow though, it was more fun watching Bill Paxton build a carbon dioxide reducing diffuser out of cardboard and some duct tape. And I know I can’t be the only person who rolled my eyes at the live broadcasts to thousands in Times Square and similar locations the world over. I’m not suggesting we wouldn’t care. It’s high drama. We certainly would care. Here. I take issue more with the sheer number and their locale. Are thousands of Chinese or Europeans really going to be glued to the action?

And no offense to the nerds out there, but I think this is kind of a geek-lovers movie. In this world, science is king and NASA execs are superheroes. I can see my dad really enjoying watching Damon make water by burning hydrogen (sorry, Dad). Or a certain friend’s father who used to help me with my chemistry homework (sorry, Mr. Barnhill). And not that I associate bad music and corny jokes with nerds, but I kinda do – and this movie has tons of both. It was somebody’s bright idea to take the running joke of the bad musical tastes of Commander Lewis (Jessica Chastain) and make those songs the soundtrack. Now, normally I like some disco music, but the only song I can stand is Gloria Gaynor’s “I Will Survive” and that plays along with the end credits! Fitting. A celebration of surviving the movie. But I’m getting carried away. It wasn’t that bad.

In the end, I don’t know why some movies work and some don’t. Why Tom Hanks is funny pounding on his chest like a caveman when he makes fire but Damon is kind of corny when he poses for a satellite picture as The Fonz from Happy Days. I think Damon is a great actor. Maybe it has something to do with trying too hard. Or that it’s all been done before. You’ll have to decide for yourself. So don’t let me keep you away from the movie or the movie keep you away from the book. The book is always better.

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I haven’t gone to bed before midnight in four days. I blew off every responsibility I had last week. And Frankie hasn’t had an evening walk in quite a few evenings. The reason for my new devil-may-care attitude? I’m completely addicted to the popular trilogy of books by Suzanne Collins.

Great literature it’s not. I don’t think The Hunger Games nor any of its sequels is going to win Collins a Pulitzer Prize. There isn’t any stunning prose. But there’s something to be said for thinking up a great story and telling it in such a gripping way it becomes hard to put down. In fact, I’m writing this post after finishing book one, but before starting book two, just in case this is one responsibility I’m tempted to shirk once I start reading again.

As usual, I found the book better than the movie, though I thought the movie was quite good. I almost want to start seeing films before reading their books just so my enjoyment of them isn’t dampened. But I like being able to create my own mental images without the help of Hollywood casting agents. And in this case, I have to admit I would have been confused at times if I didn’t know all the plot details from the book.

Even having taken in both, I’m clueless as to what all this talk of racial controversy is about. Is it over the casting? I found the casting ideal. Jennifer Lawrence (Winter’s Bones) is perfect as the gritty heroine, Katniss Everdeen. Attractive enough, but not too pretty. I did find myself rooting for the opposite romantic interest from the book to the movie (Liam Hemsworth plays Gale, Josh Huctcherson plays Peeta) because of chemistry and on-screen appeal.

But back to this alleged racism. Three main characters in the film are black, but one of them is described that way in the book, so I don’t see the problem. (Lenny Kravitz plays one of them and if you’re looking for the ’90s cover album version like me, you’ll miss him. Who knew Lenny Kravitz could act?) Then there’s the fact that the citizens of the 11th district of this dystopian society are particularly angry over their oppression. Tensions seem high and hot enough to boil there. I’ve only finished one of the three books, but I’d put my money on an uprising beginning in District 11. In the movie, the majority of people that live in this area are also black. Does that make the movie racist?

Far more legitimate, and therefore troubling to me, is a reluctance I’ve noticed in moviegoers. Some people are hesitating to see the film out of concern over the violent subject matter. The Hunger Games are, in fact, a competition of survival between 12-18 year-olds. Basically, it’s children forced to murder each other for the sake of televised entertainment. Violent? Yes. Important commentary on the dangers of our own society? Definitely.

Look, I’m as squeamish as they come, just ask my mother. I peek through my fingers at horror flicks, skip most shoot-em-ups and avoid screams and explosions at all costs. Just give me a nice feel-good with a happy ending. But the writer in me can still appreciate good art. I’ve watched many disturbing films (The Boy in the Striped Pajamas, Fight Club, The Misfits) in the name of art.

Not to make Suzanne Collins the next George Orwell, but she did do something kind of neat. Her story questions our current fascination with reality T.V. and sensationalism in the media. It calls to mind issues of privacy and images of war. Part Olympics, part Survivor, part The Truman Show, The Hunger Games reminds us that though it may be fun to watch the good train wreck that is The Real Housewives of New Jersey, networks keep having to up the ante to satisfy our appetites for more and more drama.

Besides, it’s fiction people! I’m pretty sure the real world is nowhere near justifying killing humans for sport. My mom was surprised that I not only enjoyed but re-watched District 9, a particularly bloody and violent movie. I guess it helps that most of the exploding parts were alien. I also liked I Am Legend and Aliens.

It’s ironic to me that some people will cross good movies off their list, yet sit through the evening news without flinching. And don’t forget it’s PG-13. A teenager’s novel! I’m not saying you have to run right out and see it in the theater. It can wait for DVD. But check it out. I don’t think you’ll need to, but you can always peek through your fingers.

Amy F. Quincy Author/Freelance Writer

Tag

Lonely Planet

Defending the Games