The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes
Since the conclusion of the Hunger Games franchise in 2015 with Mockingjay: Part 2, Hollywood has been left with a gaping hole in the book-to-movie adaptation craze that took the late 2000s and early 2010s by storm. No film adaptation of Divergent or The Maze Runner could replicate the mania that came with the midnight premieres and online fandom excitement that The Hunger Games, Twilight, and earlier yet, Harry Potter brought in troves. Although that excitement is truly something you had to be there for and could never be replicated, the arrival of The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes in theatres has reignited the need for a young adult-targeted franchise to be a part of the cultural zeitgeist yet again. Does The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes satiate this desire though? With director Francis Lawrence returning to the helm of the camera, his talents paired with a magnetic leading duo make for a thrilling prequel that lives up to the heights of the franchise’s previous installments, something the source material wasn’t.
Whenever a prequel of the sort is announced, speculation stirs on whether or not it’s a necessary endeavor or a blatant cash grab. While the latter is often the case, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes defends its existence as it enriches the original trilogy and expands upon the world of Panem. Taking place now during the 10th annual Hunger Games, the prequel reintroduces us to the dystopian future through the lens of President Snow before his suffocating reign over the region and long before Katniss Everdeen’s, the girl on fire’s, revolution against the Capitol. Here, Coriolanus Snow (Tom Blyth) is desperate for power and status as his family struggles to put a plate on the table while still reeling from the aftermath of the Dark Days, the war that ravaged the Capitol and ignited the population’s hatred toward the districts. The chance at a much-needed cash prize and the opportunity to climb the social ladder arises when Snow is chosen to be a mentor of one of the tributes in this year’s Games. The catch? His tribute is Lucy Gray Baird (Rachel Zegler), a girl from District 12, a region historically known for its poor performance in the annual massacre. But, as the charismatic songbird begins to catch the eye of many with her singing capabilities and eclectic personality, a spark between the two ignites, yet it’s not her who Snow falls in love with but rather, the possibility of winning the Plinth Prize and higher status the naive performer can offer him.
A premature Coriolanus Snow (Tom Blyth) enchanting Lucy Gray (Rachel Zegler) as he fulfills his role as Games coach to nth degree — for personal benefit, of course.
From her first appearance at the Reaping where she breaks out in song in defiance of the Games, Rachel Zegler makes her star power known and asserts that the role is one she was born to play. As she perfectly translates Lucy Gray from page to screen, her presence commands the screen and solidifies the notion that no one else could have done the character justice. Every emotion is portrayed sincerely through all facets of her performance – the endearing way she carries herself, her expressions that encompass bravery in the face of adversity, her stark vocals that command attention and defy the institution with her powerful growl. Despite this fearlessness, Zegler never loses sight of the character’s humanity and her unavoidable fear of death. If West Side Story didn’t sell you on the starlet’s talents, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes will have you thanking Spielberg for discovering the actress who is here to stay. Donald Sutherland’s fear-inducing stoic performance in the original trilogy is a tough act to follow, but Tom Blyth does a fair job at portraying Snow’s vindictive nature on his rise to power. Although it might be the screenplay’s fault for not portraying Snow’s wolf in sheep’s clothing-like charm from the book, Blyth does well enough to signal his character’s menacing desire for control as he displays the soon-to-be president’s turning cogs, devising yet another scheme to pummel those in his way, and his lack of remorse.
A signature flair of the Hunger Games franchise (minus the original) has been director Francis Lawrence’s ability to capture the epic scale of both the Games themselves and the excesses of the Capitol. Although we find ourselves in a still-developing Panem, this sense of awe remains prevalent. Lawrence’s energetic camera reflects the nerves of the tributes and the relentless brutality of the Games. As the camera weaves seamlessly through the sword slashes and flying arrows, we are instantly placed into the arena ourselves and feel the anxiety and helplessness of the passive and innocent Lucy Gray. Meanwhile, cinematographer Jo Willem’s wide lens ensures that every bit of the detailed and elaborate production design of the crumbling stadium, majestic interiors and looming statues of the Capitol, or deranged game-maker Dr. Gaud’s (Viola Davis) sterile lab is not lost. These visual sensibilities also serve to juxtapose the Capitol’s riches in the third act of the film where District 12’s soot-riddled industrial architecture and vast expanses of woodlands act as an enveloping backdrop.
Lawrence’s camera captures every nook and crevice of the crumbling Capitol arena to enunciate the former glory and imminent danger brought to life by the elaborate production design.
Where The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes falls short is in its screenplay. While it does improve upon the book’s pacing in terms of utilizing the Games as the focal point of the film, in doing so, it loses some of the depth offered by the plot. Whereas in the book, readers can subscribe to Lucy Gray’s romantic involvement with Snow, this aspect of the film’s narrative feels forced due to crucial omissions that build character dynamics. Furthermore, the film’s brisk pacing ramps to an unfortunate high speed in the final act. Character motivations are unfounded, and arcs quickly wrap up to no satisfaction for the audience. It’s no easy feat to adapt a 506-page book into a 2 hour and 46-minute film that, while the runtime breezes by, opts for a more overtly sinister protagonist instead of the nuanced Snow presented in the book and fails to sell a romance that is supposed to drive the film.
Eight years later, it’s a testament to the talent both in front of and behind the camera that the return to this beloved franchise fared as it did. This glimpse into Snow’s beginnings as a ruthless leader and insight into his character retroactively add texture to the President Snow we thought we knew and depth to the overall story depicted in the original trilogy. Despite having a stacked cast of Viola Davis, Hunter Schaefer, Peter Dinklage, and newcomer Tom Blyth – who remained true to Snow’s inherent cold and conniving nature – make no mistake, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes is Rachel Zegler’s film and will undoubtedly, leave us hungry for more of her and for yet another endeavor into the rich and expansive Panem.
Verdict: This exciting revisit to the dystopian future that remained the topic on everyone’s lips in the early 2010s relies on more than just nostalgia to make it a Nick Pick.