Dear Hollywood Whitewashers: The Hunger Games

It makes me sad to send The Hunger Games a Dear Hollywood Whitewashers, because I love Jennifer Lawrence and I love Jennifer Lawrence as Katniss, but this was not a role I think she should have been given (this post equally applies to Gale, Haymitch, and other Seam residents, but Katniss is definitely the eye of this particular storm.)  I’m not calling out any one specific person here.  Troubles began when Katniss’s original casting call was only open to Caucasian actresses and were exacerbated when director Gary Ross and author Suzanne Collins both dismissed whitewashing concerns as nothing a little hair dye or makeup couldn’t fix.  A seal of approval from the series’s writer might negate this argument for some, but I’m sticking with it.

The quote we’re examining today isn’t one of these justifications or dismissals.  Instead, these words are from Katniss, the description she gives of herself and other Seam folk in the first book:

“He could be my brother.  Straight black hair, olive skin, we even have the same gray eyes.  But we’re not related, at least not closely.  Most of the families who work the mines resemble one another this way.  That’s why my mother and Prim, with their light hair and blue eyes, always look out of place.  They are.  My mother’s parents were part of the small merchant class…”

Now, I get that “olive” doesn’t absolutely, no-question mean someone is non-white.  It could arguably suggest a more typically Mediterranean complexion, and Google Imaging “olive skin” provides results as racially varied as Halle Berry, Jennifer Lopez, and Aishwarya Rai – including, yes, a small number of white people.  However, in my experience, white authors don’t use the word “olive” to describe a white person’s skin tone.  They might use words like “pasty” or “tan,” but in all honesty, they’re more likely not to mention their skin color at all.  Characters of color are far more likely to have their skin tone specified, while white characters much more frequently only have their hair or eye color described – “white” isn’t considered a necessary detail to give, since it’s generally the default assumption for white readers (In the quote above, notice that Katniss’s mom and Prim aren’t specifically noted as having light-colored skin.  Give them light hair and blue eyes, and we fill in the rest.)

What’s more, The Hunger Games gives us two class-based subsets of District 12, both of whom whom have colorings distinct enough that residents can be easily identified as “Seam” or “merchant class.”  It seems strangely coincidental if the (relatively) better-off merchants are all noticeably lighter than the impoverished coal miners – given the below-ground profession of most of the population, the “Seam look” can’t simply be blamed on them getting more sun – and it’s notmeant to highlight a racial disparity.

To be fair, I’m not specifically saying that Katniss is Native American.  Or Asian.  Or Latina.  Or Black.  The impression I get is that, due to years of racial mixing, Panem has races that present-day America doesn’t.  If I was casting Katniss, Gale, and Haymitch, I’d have probably looked for mixed actors who couldn’t be immediately labeled as “[insert race here!]”  So, I can’t say what Katniss “is,” but I strongly feel that she is not white.  Casting her as such, in my opinion, stripped the films of a lot of potential richness and of course denied an actress of color the rocket to mega-stardom from playing this extraordinary role.

A Few Remarks on Peeta Mellark and Gale Hawthorne (or, Why I’m Team Katniss)

Before we begin, let’s put aside the fact that romance in books or movies isn’t a requirement for me.  Let’s ignore the fact that many a love triangle has overrun otherwise engaging characters in compelling stories, and let’s not comment on the fact that the central triangle in The Hunger Games doesn’t generally display Suzanne Collins’s writing skills to their utmost.  None of these reasons compare to why, in the Team Peeta vs. Team Gale debate, I’m forever Team Katniss.

First things first:  once she realizes how both Peeta and Gale feel about her (and that takes a while, because it’s hard for Katniss to believe that virtually anyone gives any sort of damn about her,) she tells both boys that romance isn’t the cards.  She doesn’t do it especially artfully, but she’s earnest in her assurances that it’s not about anything either of them did.  Although “it’s not you, it’s me” has a reputation for being a cliché, when she says it, she means it.    

The past baggage and present dangers behind that “it’s not you, it’s me” are formidable.  Let’s start with her conviction that she can never get married, because she feels she can never get pregnant, because she’s terrified at the thought of her child being sent into the Arena.  This is the world the characters live in, and that’s a huge, horrifying prospect for a 16-year-old girl to come to grips with.  With fears like that inside her, it’s no wonder she’s not in any sort of headspace to be in a relationship.  Then, of course, there’s the small matter that she’s incredibly busy with super-important stuff throughout the trilogy.  Whether she’s trying to survive a sadistic televised battle to the death, satisfy the Capitol propaganda machine so the president won’t murder everyone she loves, or figure out how to be the symbol of a revolution her actions inadvertently helped inspire, she’s got a lot on her plate.  For much of the series, she’s in straight-up fight-or-flight mode, and she doesn’t have much time to process her feelings for either boy, which are complicated and confusing in both cases.

And really, once she’s said no, there’s nothing else she should have to say.  But she cares about both Gale and Peeta and feels she needs both of them in her life (plus, she’s Katniss, so she’s inclined to assume responsibility for other people’s pain regardless of whether it’s actually her fault.)  So she tells them all of this – that she’s in no place to even begin to think about a life that includes anything like that, and at the moment, she’s working hard enough just trying to keep herself, her family, and her friends alive.  She tells them all this, and while the two boys have different reactions over the course of the story (in Peeta’s defense, he’s often at least slightly more understanding than Gale,) there’s a tendency in both to throw their hurt feelings in her face.

Now boys, I get that Katniss is pretty amazing.  I’m not surprised that either of you is in love with her.  But would it kill you to give her a little space?  Like I said, Peeta, you tend to be a bit better, so you’re further down on my irritation list, but I can’t stand it when you two get huffy or angsty or passive-aggressive about Katniss not dating you.  Because I love her, too – in a fictional-character platonic sort of way – and I see the way she beats herself up over your moodiness.  She has enough massive stress, major responsibility, and misplaced guilt without you mooning over her, and she doesn’t need any more.  You both say you’re your friends, so maybe act like it.  Stop making her feel bad about herself, recognize that she has way too much to deal with right now, and give her the support she (again, your friend) needs without making her feel guilty for not falling into your arms the way that you want.

The Hunger Games: Mockingjay – Part 1 (2014, PG-13)

 

While I don’t think Mockingjay needed to be split into two films, I’m pleased with the overall effect.  Unlike other Part 1 movies I could name, it feels like a complete film on its own, with no prevailing sense that it’s just set-up for next year’s main attraction.  It doesn’t drag, but moves along at a good pace while allowing a little extra time for color and character moments – though I think Catching Fireis excellent, plenty of good stuff from it feels rushed or short-changed.

 

It’s impossible to talk specifically about any Hunger Games installment without spoiling earlier twists, so my discussion of the general premise will spoil a few things that came before.  Consider yourself warned.  Mockingjayfinds Katniss a wreck after the events of Catching Fire; her district is in smoldering ruins, Peeta is being held prisoner in the Capitol, and in her underground sanctuary with the rebels of District 13, she’s expected to step up and be the face of a revolution.  However, much like the Games relied so heavily on media and image, Katniss is called on to be more of an emblem than a leader.  It’s Katniss, so you know she’s not just going to sit back and do what she’s told, but the vision District 13 has is of a gorgeous freedom fighter giving stirring speeches and wielding prop weapons in front of a camera.

 

I’ve always liked this element of the series, the emphasis on the power of images, of media manipulation.  In the Games, Katniss was a pawn of the Capitol, and here, she’s asked to be a pawn for the other side.  It muddies the waters in a good way, because there’s subterfuge and propaganda no matter where she is, and her world doesn’t divide neatly between those wearing white and black hats.  I love her inner struggle between consenting to be the “mockingjay” and wanting to make a more tangible contribution to the war effort, whether it’s to get into the fray and fight or to help ease people’s suffering.  In a way, it’s a lot like Steve’s plot in Captain America, wherein the army tries to turn him into a symbol rather than let him be a soldier.

 

The film does a nice job following the book.  It hits the major beats well and leaves room for more of the “little” moments that didn’t get a lot of screentime in the first two films (not entirely, of course – in particular, Finnick seems to get the short straw much of the time.)  Additionally, it fleshes out some of the outside-world elements, which I love.  It’s really affecting to see slogans and themes from Katniss’s televised “propos” appropriated for scenes of the districts rebelling.  It ties her plot in better with the larger story of what’s going on in Panem.

 

Jennifer Lawrence is, predictably, wonderful.  While Katniss’s PTSD isn’t as prominent in the film as in the book, Lawrence beautifully captures her pain, desperation, and inner conflict.  As Peeta, Josh Hutcherson makes the most of his reduced role and makes me excited to see what he’s going to do with Peeta’s story in Part 2, and Sam Claflin’s performance as a more shell-shocked Finnick is a great contrast to his work in Catching Fire.  Among the adult cast, Woody Harrelson as Haymitch, Julianne Moore as President Coin, and Elizabeth Banks as Effie are especially great, and it’s cool to see Natalie Dormer (Margaery Tyrell or Jamie Moriarty, depending on your fandom) as the subversive filmmaker Cressida.

 

Warnings

 

Violence (including implied torture,) some disturbing images, and thematic elements.

Favorite Characters: Cinna (The Hunger Games)

 

Writing about Katniss and Finnick a few weeks ago reminded me how much I love Cinna.  He’s a relatively small supporting character, but he makes such an impact in his limited page-time, and though there are a lot of people throughout the series who are in Katniss’s corner, he’s one of the first to really get through to her and make her believe it.

 

The decked is stacked in the stylist’s favor as soon as Katniss meets him in the first book.  While she’s just been poked and prodded by her vapid prep team with their outrageous Capitol fashions, Cinna’s style is understated and he treats her like a person rather than a canvas on which to inflict a makeover.  (You know he’s a good guy the second he gives her low heels she can walk in and makes sure she can move comfortably in her dress.)

 

Throughout Katniss’s pre-Games time at the Capitol, I love the thoughtfulness and artistry that Cinna brings to her outfits.  He conceives her memorable “Girl on Fire” image with his unique approach to representing the coal-mining of District 12 with beauty, a theme he carries into everything he designs for her.  At a time when Katniss thinks she doesn’t stand a chance in the Arena, his bold ideas give her the gift of unforgettableness, and he’s savvy enough to keep her makeup subtle so the audience will still recognize her once the Games start.

 

It’s so intelligent, so perceptive.  It’s clear that he doesn’t just look at the Games as an opportunity for the public to see his work; it’s the chance to help a teenage girl survive, and he takes it seriously.  I like that he makes such important contributions to Katniss’s chances in the bloody, brutal Games through a so-called “feminine” interest like fashion.  Katniss is so rough-edged and non-girly that it’s cool so see less physical and hunting-based talents playing a significant part.  Cinna has found his passion, and he uses it to truly help someone who needs it.  (This, by the way, is the reason I was so disappointed with the costumes in the first movie.  We learn so much about Cinna’s character through the way he dresses Katniss, and her outfits in the film, ranging from generic to tacky-looking, seem to diminish these great qualities.)

 

And can I mention how much I love the fact that he’s a badass, subversive stylist?  As the story starts to explore the larger backdrop of the corrupt rulers and oppressed districts of Panem, Cinna makes a stand with the clothes he puts on Katniss.  He takes dresses and turns them into emblems, symbols of power, rallying points for people who won’t be kept down any longer.  It comes back to him using his talents for good.  I really like the message that one doesn’t have to shoot arrows or storm a despot’s mansion in order to make a difference.  Bows can be weapons, but so can words, paintbrushes, and even jeweled gowns.

 

Furthermore, he’s a calming presence, someone with whom Katniss can openly discuss her fear and who can give her advice.  For the extremely guarded Katniss, that’s huge, and reading their scenes together are like an enormous sigh.  There are parts of the series that are more deeply emotional (the song and the flowers, oh my gosh,) but Katniss’s last moments with Cinna before entering the Arena in the first book?  They get me every time.

Relationship Spotlight: Katniss Everdeen & Finnick Odair (The Hunger Games)

 

(It's surprisingly hard to find a picture of these two besides the production shot

of the so-called "sugar-cube scene" from Catching Fire - oh, shippers....)

 

Maybe this is my aceness coming through, but when it comes to The Hunger Games, I’m not particularly invested in the so-called Team Peeta or Team Gale.  Mostly, I just wish both guys would realize Katniss has a lot on her plate trying to stay alive and overthrow oppressive regimes, and she really doesn’t need them making her feel like a shrew for not falling into their loving arms.  While I enjoy her fine with either boy, I greatly prefer Katniss’s interactions with loads of other characters.  This one isn’t necessarily my favorite (it’s hard to beat the warm fuzziness of Katniss and Cinna,) it’s pretty rich and infinitely readable.  Note – I can’t even start to explain these two without spoiling the central plot of Catching Fire, but I’ll avoid major details from Mockingjay.

 

When they first encounter one another during the lead-up to the Quarter Quell, Katniss and Finnick both misjudge each other.  She thinks he’s a shallow, slutty product of the Capitol, trading sexual favors to vapid citizens for pretty much anything he wants.  He in turn thinks her star-crossed-lovers bit with Peeta in the last Games was nothing but a stunt and doesn’t realize the complexity of her feelings.  Their early associations in the Quell are excellent to read, because they’re thrown into an alliance despite a near-total lack of trust.  Through a good chunk of their first day in the Arena, Katniss is trying to figure out when and where to murder him, and Finnick casually holds his trident in an attack stance while talking to her.  There’s electricity in the air as they circle each other while making a show of playing nice.

 

Over the course of the Quell, however, they start to edge toward the oddly profound comradeship that ultimately grows between them.  With Katniss’s small size and Finnick’s much-talked-of pretty face, they’re both easy to underestimate in the Arena, but they prove themselves to one another in strength, intellect, and valor.  And beyond this grudging respect for one another’s abilities, they begin to know each other.  Finnick isn’t the promiscuous heartbreaker he purports to be, and Katniss isn’t the girl who bats her eyelashes at Peeta for the cameras’ benefit.  Finnick starts to come around sooner than Katniss, of course.  She’s practically allergic to trust, and even as she slowly loosens up, she never fully lets her guard down; at the first hint of uncertainty, she’s ready to believe the worst of him.

 

Both, though, are put through the ringer, and it’s when each is brought low that they really come together.  In Mockingjay, broken by the events of the previous book, they’re one another’s unstable shoulder on which to lean.  They grope unsteadily through extreme circumstances at one another’s side, each pushing through the heavy weight of their own despair and panic to provide what small comfort they can to the other.  Some make untrue assumptions about their relationship, mistaking their closeness for heat, but these people don’t get it.  Because they can’t; in this book, Katniss and Finnick are victims of the same cruel mind game, and only someone experiencing the same torture can offer any understanding.

 

In this way, through this new, painful kinship, they really and truly become friends and allies.  They muddle through their shared trauma together, cling to, lose, and regain hope together, fight together, and strategize together with mutual respect and solidarity.  This affinity between them is lovely, and it’s made so much more interesting by the long journey both of them take to reach it.