As the saga continues, the allusions to PTSD become much more pronounced. In the second film, Catching Fire, directed by Francis Lawrence, we see Katniss having flashbacks to her experiences in the arena, and other veterans of the Games begin to share their own nightmares. The story’s deepest engagement with the issue is yet to come, in Mockingjay; suffice it to say at this point that the trilogy as a whole is a powerful metaphorical treatment of the psychic challenges confronting today’s war veterans, and deserves respect on that level.
Although Katniss and fellow District 12 survivor Peeta Mellark (Josh Hutcherson) are forced to return to the arena in Catching Fire – thanks to a special 25th-anniversary edition of the Games with different rules, known as the Quarter Quell – the violence is slightly less disturbing than in the first movie, since all the Tributes are older veterans of past Games rather than children. Those rules have been tweaked by an increasingly threatened President Snow (Donald Sutherland) to ensure that he’s rid of Katniss, whose televised act of defiance at the end of the previous year’s Games has sparked growing rebellion in some of the poorer Districts.
But what Snow has failed to consider is the fact that those survivors of past Games, whom Katniss and Peeta meet upon their return to the Capitol, have all known each other for years and shared their stories. Not only are they trotted out for annual public relations events, but all are also being blackmailed in one way or another by the government, and many show serious signs of cracking under the mental strain. As their District 12 mentor Haymitch Abernathy (Woody Harrelson) explains to Katniss and Peeta, a Tribute’s ordeal is just beginning when he or she walks out of the arena alive. Resentment of the way that they’ve been used seethes in the hearts of many of these veterans, and the emergence of Katniss as a reluctant symbol of rebellion supplies the seed for a Quarter Quell scenario that is unusual in more ways than the president has planned.
So, although Catching Fire is the middle installment of a trilogy – traditionally seen as just marking time before the big finale – Katniss and Peeta’s second Games are much more than a been-there, done-that. The simmering resistance movement raises the ante considerably; plus, we get to meet some fascinating new wounded warriors. Sam Claflin proves a good choice for the narcissistic golden boy Finnick Odair, as does Jenna Malone as the belligerent Johanna Mason, both of whom hide profound personal tragedy under devil-may-care exteriors. This reviewer would have liked to see more screentime given to Amanda Plummer and Jeffrey Wright as two particularly intriguing past Games winners, Wiress and Beetee (a/k/a Nuts and Volts), who are clearly not all there psychologically, but definitely people whom you want in your corner in the arena on account of their formidable brainpower.
Another new face in the films is the peerless Philip Seymour Hoffman, effortlessly turning in a smug and calculating Plutarch Heavensbee, the new head Games designer. Of the returning actors, the most character-stretching is rendered by Shields, who takes Prim from a scared 12-year-old to a confident healer with a destiny in the rebellion, and Elizabeth Banks as Effie Trinkett, the ridiculously garbed, coiffed and made-up minder for the District 12 team – who imagined that such a vapid character would ever acquire any depth? Stanley Tucci gets lots more time onscreen as Caesar Flickerman, Panem’s purple-pompadoured answer to Monty Hall, thanks to his good notices in the first movie. Hutcherson gets more to do here as well, though his big scenery-chewing scenes still lie ahead in the third volume. Harrelson continues to delight as the cantankerous Haymitch, and Lenny Kravitz is a heartbreaker as Katniss’ simpatico stylist Cinna.
Oft garbed in white, President Snow could be described as the Moby Dick of the Hunger Games trilogy: the terrifying antagonist so huge and symbolic that he just about transcends evil. It’s no coincidence that he surrounds himself with the fragrance of roses to conceal the fact that he’s rotting from the inside. While in the books his odor repulses people, in the movies the first hint of this literal corruption is a scene where the white wine he’s drinking turns red from his internal bleeding. Sutherland, who’s so great at making nastiness sleek, gets to humanize the character just a teense in some cozy scenes with a sweet granddaughter. But even she innocently pushes his paranoid buttons by telling him that all the girls at school this year are wearing their hair in braids just like Katniss Everdeen.
Surly, unsociable Katniss doesn’t want to be a heroine, but Catching Fire makes it clear that she isn’t going to have much choice in the matter. Nor will she be able to sidestep the use of violence, no matter who’s at the controls of the Hunger Games – or the much bigger game that’s beginning to play out. Fortunately, Jennifer Lawrence is as coolly in command of her arsenal of acting skills as her character is with a bow. Even if the sociopolitical themes of The Hunger Games whizz right over your head, seeing her at work is well-worth the price of admission. Meanwhile, I’ll be looking forward with pleasure to the next installment.
