Of Hunger Games and Mockinjay’s….

So my sister was in town and I knew she would drag me to see the Hunger Games movie like she dragged me to see Real Steel and Mission Impossible (Ghost Protocol) during her previous visits. In all fairness Hugh Jackman and Tom Cruise are themselves enough of a force to drag a non moviegoer like me to the cinemas… it’s just that I can’t stand the sound of everything crashing or blowing up or firing away in the confines of a darkened room. Couple these deafening sounds with the fast moving images on screen and I start hyperventilating… yeah, I know, I’m no fun. I prefer movies that most people usually avoid like Jane Eyre or any of Jane Austen’s adaptations or the Sound of Music or some true story drama where emotions are pretty intense and you start bawling your eyes out and falling in love with the characters on screen. This was true in Real Steel, that little kid could smile his way into anyone’s heart. Ghost Protocol was pathetic compared to Real Steel, but Tom Cruise can still charm his way into any girl’s heart… but that’s about it, the movie has nothing else to talk about. 

Anyway, getting back to Hunger Games, the book seemed to make my hospital visits less dreadful, so that was something good. The concept was intriguing: the ancient gladiator-ish form of entertainment set in the future dystopian world of Panem, where children are randomly selected and forced into an arena to fight each other to death. Of course, you can’t set the book down once you get started, you get drawn into the arena waiting with bated breath to see how the main characters fare. The author, Suzanne Collins, manages to end almost every chapter in a cliffhanger and before you know it you are done reading it. You also realise that you’ve become old when you don’t fall for the disarmingly charming baker boy… I know, sad but true. The book ends rather abruptly and then you are on to the second book in the trilogy, Catching Fire, which starts off well but this time you aren’t drawn into the arena like before. The whole thing seems like it was thrown together like some avial dish, and you find yourself incessantly wondering — are we done yet. The third book Mockinjay was pointless, I couldn’t bring myself to read it, so I jumped, skipped and hopped my way through it to get to the ending which was like dishwater to say the least. Grey, bland and bleary as it sloshes down the drain… there is only so much drama a story can take. The last two books had more plots than a cemetery (yeah, I know… I came across this phrase somewhere and thought it was pretty funny too). When you reach the end of this trilogy you realize meaningful books with literary value is what you should be reading next.

Coming to the movie, it was okay… you don’t get the sense of urgency and survival the book invokes in you. The characters are all good looking, except Gale… who is great looking! (Miley must be one contended girl, she is dating Gale in real life. I don’t even know what his real name is). It was good while it lasted, the whole Hunger Games drama. Me and my sister read the books, then watched the movie together. After that we would bid each other goodnight or goodbye in the manner of District 12, with the three finger salute. Here are a few pictures…