THE HUNGER GAMES: THE BALLAD OF SONGBIRDS & SNAKES

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17 Apr 2024

REVIEWS
★★★
The persistent problem posed by prequels is the inherent need of each to justify its own existence outwit commercial appeal. It is a rare prequel that’s ever much more than the commodification of an original conceit. Lionsgate’s latest Hunger Games film, released almost a decade after the last, doesn’t quite reach that upper echelon. There’s too strong a feeling of superfluousness in this particular visit to Panem. Few have spent the last eight years yearning for a Coriolanus Snow origins story. The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes is, no doubt, a handsome and well acted affair but feels long at over two and a half hours.
To its credit, unlike the Fantastic Beasts films, Songbirds & Snakes does at least derive from a solid and well-received novel from series writer Suzanne Collins. The series has yet to lose its head, untether and go rogue. Somewhat slavish writing from Michael Lesslie and Michael Arndt sees the text faithfully translated to screen, right down to its three act structure, with barely a beat missed. In effect, the approach drags. A dour tone never quite quickens the pulse, while the film’s thrills come and go in sporadic bursts of visual ingenuity. Much of this is in debt to the direction of Frances Lawrence, returning to the fray off the back of his work on the original trilogy, who has lost none of his flair for set piece dazzlement.
Set some sixty-four years before the reaping of Katniss Everdeen, the film finds a young Coriolanus – Tom Blyth, a believably de-aged Donald Sutherland – at pains to support his grandma and sister in the Capitol. Though they still parrot the old family mantra – ‘snow always lands on top’ – they’re a penniless trio on the verge of destitution. Coriolanus is their last hope. Or, rather, his winning the prestigious Plinth Prize – a university scholarship – appears to be the Snow family’s only viable route to prosperity restoration. It is, then, a bit of a punch to the gut for Coriolanus that sees Dean Casca Highbottom (Peter Dinklage) announce a last minute obstacle in the race for victory. Sheer academic excellence will no longer cut it.

To win back his fortune, Coriolanus must first mentor young songbird Lucy Grey Baird (Rachel Zegler), a District 12 tribute, in the tenth annual Hunger Games. Success is not determined by victory in the Games but by what entertainment value each mentor might elicit. A decade on from their debut, and thirteen years since the Capitol’s triumph in Panem’s First Rebellion, viewership of the Games is at rock bottom. Their very existence is on the brink. We know they will survive, of course – Katniss fought in the 74th annual Games, after all – but prepare to witness the birth of a new era. The satire here isn’t exactly sharp but makes its point succinctly enough to resonate.
Less succinct, however, would be the film’s tone and narrative balance. It’s an unwieldy pace that sees Lawrence build to an almighty crescendo an hour an and a half in, only to drag things along for another hour after. Moreover, in all that time, the film never quite convinces in its exploration of how a YA heartthrob can go on to become a despotic, scheming tyrant. Blyth is a promising young talent, and unfailingly watchable here, but hasn’t material enough to sell Coriolanus as a worthy centrepiece in his own story. Alongside him, Zegler shines but is similarly held back by shallow characterisation.
It is, instead, scenes dominated by a world weary Dinklage and unhinged Viola Davis that offer the meatiest content. Davis especially delights in the opportunity for high camp presented by Dr. Volumnia Gaul’s head game maker. Hers are the best lines as she mulls over a tank full of potentially poisonous rainbow snakes and declares it time for her ‘milk and crackers’. It’s an ill fit amid the film’s worthier severities – and no raison d’être for its existence – I but a joy to behold.