The Hunger Games Trilogy: Catching Fire

Recently released, and ridiculously well reviewed, the film sequel to Suzanne Collin's dystopian teen novel 'The Hunger Games' came bursting onto our screens in a violent flash of black, gold and orange, in the explosive new 'Catching Fire'. 

Given the unquestionable success of it's predecessor, 'Catching Fire' had so much to live up to; and so many high expectations to fulfill. It needed to be brilliant, and brutal; heartbreaking and horrifying, electric and ecstatic...and it was. 

From the very first scene you are thrown straight back into the lives of District 12 as if you'd never left, and far from being a slow burner, it draws you in almost instantly to Katniss' present; a very different Katniss from the one we left behind. Traumatized, she's both opened and closed herself off. She fears her bow, and herself, but is a much more vulnerable and co-dependent character now, unashamed of her emotions in front of her family, struggling to keep up the pretense in front of the cameras of the Capitol. Jennifer Lawrence plays a stunning portrayal of this, giving Katniss such a real feeling, a non-fictional touch, that it makes her story even more absorbing and touching, in the melting and hardening of her heart. Props in particular go to her performance in the scenes from District 11; in the breathtaking deliverance of the universe she is now nailed to, and the battle she goes through to keep herself alive within it. 

Her co-stars, as well, should be applauded, as both boys, Josh Hutcherson, (Peeta), and Liam Hemsworth (Gale), play such gritty, emotional roles so beautifully, whether it be in Gale's torture, and his anger, or in Peeta's pain, and the gentleness he uncovers from it. A spotlight really is shone on this particular aspect of Peeta, as whilst Katniss may draw a few stolen kisses from Gale, it is easy to see these are kisses of home and of District 12, where kisses are good enough to answer unanswerable questions, it is Peeta who takes both, who takes the kisses as false, and pulls the words of everywhere out from inside her hardened soul. Hutcherson is given an incredibly endearing role in this, and whilst this may characterization was a little sickly-sweet in 'The Hunger Games', it is almost as if we are seeing it through Katniss' eyes, in that she too found it overwhelming and irritating, this endless goodness, but now, against the background of anger and fear, it's the only thing holding her together. 

A slight problem I did find, in the adaptation, was the notable under-use of the supporting characters. Whilst this is understandable, given that so much of the film was dependent on the relationship of the three main icons, it was a little disappointing that such ingenious characters, like Beetee and Wiress, were given such little screentime, and such shallow characterization. From reading the books, obviously, we appreciate their importance within the story, but for a movie-only viewer, they're portrayed a little useless, really. This is also true of Finnick, and Mags, as their back stories, which are so crucial to the audience's understanding of them as characters is significantly lacking, meaning we get quite a distorted view of them, and could prompt a slight dis attachment from them in comparison to the love of other characters. This could all, of course, be an intelligent symbolic move on behalf of the screen-writers, in the parallels between the context of the book, in that the horrific truth of the games is trivialized compared to the love story, and the publication of the film, where fans care more about the Gale-Katniss-Peeta love triangle than the struggles of the Arena, and the rebellions of the Districts. 

However, one of my ultimate favourite things about this film would have to be it's cinematic glory. Whether it's watched in a cinema, on a tablet, TV or laptop, it is impossible to miss the absolute beauty, and color of the scenes in the movie. From the Mockingjay dress, and the howler monkey cove, to the lightening tree, and the snow covered District 12, every image is breathtaking, and it's almost impossible to take in everything all at once. And, without giving away any spoilers, the grand finale is possible one of the most stunning cinematic shots I have ever seen, in any film ever. 

In it's casting, it's costume, it's cinematography and, most importantly, in it's relation to the books (10 out of 10 for that), 'Catching Fire' is jaw-droppingly good, and no matter who you ship, who you hate, who you love, and who you root for, you will not be disappointed.  

Doctor Who: Day of the Doctor

The Day of the Doctor. The 50th anniversary of the longest running science-fiction television show in history.
This is an episode fans have been waiting for 50 long years to see; the culmination of 13 doctors, 2 re-births, 1200 years, 11 TARDIS', 77,0000 viewers, one star-dipped cast; all building up to the single greatest episode in BBC's long history.
And it was ok.
The episode starts in a typical fashion, with 11 and Clara reuniting to answer a summons from an important historical figure and travelling off across the universe to find out what they want. And then we're introduced to the War Doctor. And then Rose comes back. And then Queen Elizabeth I comes out of the TARDIS riding on the back of a horse with the Tenth Doctor. And then a big timey-wimey hole opens up in the middle of the universe and they all somehow fall into an unpredicted Zygon take-over in the middle of sixteenth century Tudor England.
Story wise, yes, it was good. And it was, by far, one of the most entertaining and exciting episodes of Doctor Who to date. But it didn't make sense. Essentially, the premise of the episode is that the supposed 'War Doctor' is in fact the eighth Doctor, played by the legendary John Hurt, on the eve of committing one of the worst crimes in science-fiction history: the genocide of his own people. So, in an 'Ebeneezer Scrooge'-style twist, he is sent forwards in time to experience the consequences of his decision by none other than the interface of the killing machine itself; in the form of old companion, Rose Tyler.
And this is where it gets confusing. A great deal of the episode is centered around the interaction of the three Doctors, (Hurt, Tennant and Smith) and the glorious things they achieve together, using the memories and calculations of their previous incarnations, and whilst this is an incredibly clever idea, it does have it's major flaws. Now, as a beloved fan of the Rose/Ten companionship, I, and many other fans with me, were sincerely disappointed that, in having lost and found each other and lost each other again so many times, in this one final episode, they did not interact once. In fact, the episode goes so far as to put them in the same room, up against the same wall, and yet he cannot see her, speak to her, or even become aware of her existence beside him, due to the fact that she is, essentially, inside the War Doctor's mind. But yet, considering this, and considering the fact that both Ten and Eleven can vividly remember meeting their previous selves in this meeting, and can remember being taken to see themselves on the eve of this decision, it would surely suggest that they remember a Rose-shaped interface being the one to take them there as well? No? And even when Hurt exclaims 'Thank you Bad Wolf Girl!' and reveals her existence to the two Doctors, we are only a given a brief  'did you just say Bad Wolf Girl?' from Ten, which is then ignored without explanation. So again, whilst an intelligent idea, perhaps a little too advanced to be 100% plot-hole proof.
On top of this, we had the use of Queen Elizabeth I, played by Gavin and Stacey star, Joanna Page, whose role, whilst witty and well cast, unfortunately retained the standard characterization method used by all royally-written characters of Doctor Who (see Queen Victoria, Liz, and countless other's, all of whom have fallen victim to the lazy writing of Steven Moffat).
And finally, the feel of the episode. Whilst this may just be my personal take on the series, I just feel, in general, that Doctor Who has lost so much of it's original allure, and the sacrality it boasted in the first few series, under the writing of fan favourite, Russell T Davies. It's gotten too confusing, too complicated, and to go into it having missed only one episode the week before you could wind up finding half of the history dug up, wiped out and re-written by the egotistical authors who think it's 'time for a new approach to the show'.
The role of the Doctor used to be a beautiful thing. It used to be what children grew up aspiring to be. 'The Doctor' was the height of acting standard. It was the most commemorated casting in television.
And now... so what? People don't care anymore. No one knows what's happening, who's playing who, who lived and who died, who the companion is, which aliens to love and to hate. In today's TV land, people care more about who dropped an egg in The Great British Bake Off than who the Twelfth Doctor's going to be.
So, in conclusion, whilst it was nice to see some of the old favourites return, from David Tenant to Tom Baker, overall, both the episode, and the series, have lost their magic, and it's going to take something big to bring it back.

Paper Towns (John Green)

Having heard nothing but endlessly mixed reviews of John Green's second Best-Seller novel, Paper Towns, and of course, having read two of his other novels, I went into this book with an open mind, if erring slightly on the side of caution.
However, having just finished the book, I came out of it again understanding perfectly why the reviews were so mixed. To start with, we are introduced to main characters Q and Margo through a flashback into their childhood together, and the stilted memory of finding the corpse of a suicide victim in their local park. But far from traumatizing the 9 year old protagonists, it seems only to spark an unhealthy obsession in the drama of mystery in quirky, flighty Margo, and becomes nothing more than a recreational memory in child of a therapist Quentin. The next time we meet them, however, things are a little bit different.
Now, one of my favourite elements in this book would have to be the timeline of Q's life, in the months leading up to his High School graduation. For me personally, being in my final year of school, a lot of his thoughts and feelings about the sudden changes in his life are expressed perfectly, and his journey throughout the plot is deeply relatable. A line in particular which really struck an emotional chord with me personally as the expression that Q could 'feel my lungs were drowning in perverse nostalgia', as speaking from experience, leaving a place, any place, feels exactly like this.
Another admirable element to the book would be the side characters, in Q's best friends, Ben and Radar, simply for their actual realism as people. Unlike so many of John Green's characters, neither of these boys are particularly philosophical, or emotionally ponderous in the majority of their outbursts, and actually have normal, non-analytical conversations about innuendos and video games. They feel a lot like real people thrown into an extremist fictional story, which makes their role in the book even more significant. In a view of the book as a whole, the moral behind it would be, essentially, to fight against the addiction of fictional creations; to keep reality around you, and to shake your head at the romanticism of loss. Ben and Radar understand this perfectly. They are very much characters of the real world, where life goes on, and people come and go, Q, on the other hand, is not.
The two central characters here, are very, very John Green. What I mean by this is that the, albeit beautifully written and emotionally charged, protagonists seem to have fallen into the unfortunate trappings of unoriginal parallels with their fictional siblings. For example, Q, in Paper Towns, is a simple, mentally stable and slightly nerdy and unpopular, normal teenage boy; whilst love interest Margo is less so, being adorably unhinged and kooky, as well as clever and thoughtful, overflowing with weird little habits and quirks which no boy can possibly resist. Unfortunately, these descriptions could also be that of, let's say, Will Grayson and Jane from 'Will Grayson, Will Grayson', or perhaps Pudge and Alaska from 'Looking for Alaska'. The three books could arguably be read as a set, each with a similar ending, and each with a distinct lack of the originality famed in Green's latest book 'The Fault in Our Stars'. Hazel and Augustus seem to have taken a different path to their predecessors, in that their personalities are equally balanced, and it is in fact their bodies, and lives which serve as their character flaws, and it is perhaps that which makes TFIOS so popular in comparison to the rest.
To sum up; don't disregard this book. Don't read it looking for the worlds most original love story. But don't brush aside as the least, either. Read it alone. Read the first two, and wait a while. Read it first, and then read the other two. In my opinion, it is neither better, nor worse, nor more interesting, nor less so than the other famed Green novels, but nether the less, this does not, in any shape, form or fashion, stop it from being a damned good read.

Sky One's Dracula: Episode 1

Based on the age-old story of Bram Stoker's 'Dracula', and promising a sparkling, elegant new take on the novel, Sky One's Dracula slinks onto screen in a crawl of poor casting, lazy setting and dull storylines.

The episode starts with the umpteenth resurrection of the long drained Count Dracula, throwing us straight in at the deep end, blood, guts and more; taking the gnarled, dry bones of the character, and of the novel, and fleshing them out into Johnathon Rhys Myers' cool and concise interpretation, the reinvented promise of things to come. Myers is predictably seductive in this, draping himself across luxurious ballrooms and bustiers, dragging his teeth from neck to neck, and showing us the extravagance of his acting, in all its rich depth and flavour. In the vampiric sense, think less Edward Cullen here; more Interview with the Vampire's Lestat; cool yet clumsy in his emotion. There are wobbles and jolts in Dracula's character; he is most definetly not the stone wall of a man we'd come to expect from a man of Myers portrayal, making him one of the more complex characters of the episode. 

Myers' supporting cast, however, don't quite have the sleek seduction as their leading man; Jonathon Harker is played sweetly and prudish enough to match his handwritten self, intelligent and innocent Mina is clear straight from the start, yet Katie McGrath's character of Lucy was a rather disappointing watch, in all honesty. Whilst I am a steadfast fan of McGrath's work, her portrayals of characters, whether they be ancient sorceress' hiding out in Camelot's dirtiest hovels, or high society wannabes; they appears to be no clear definition between these roles, and it's awkwardly easy to pick up on the same character traits, voices and motives in almost all of them, making it a slightly predictable and under-complicated watch. Even the character of Lucy seems to have been taken a little too far; without actually reading the book, you could assume Lucy was flirty, and impure in her actions regarding her suitors, and this seems to have been the line taken and run with by the writers, creating a completely fictional persona for the once apologetic and genuinely respectful original female character. It seems disloyal to Stoker's work to impose this characterisation upon the girl, as well as lazily cast, in giving McGrath such a typical role. 

Another fault found would've been the setting and geography of the episode; confusing in it's attempted English-isms. Dracula appears to be the only 'American' character within the show, walking amongst the smoky, cobbled streets of Victorian England, yet almost everything else feels strangely American as well. It appears to be an England trying too hard to be English, yet still retaining that Sky One USA feel to it. It's definetly lacking the polish and finesse of a BBC production.

Even the storyline lacked interest. Given that the book focuses so heavily on the storylines of Lucy, Mina and Jonathon, it was disappointing that they played such unimportant roles here; with Dracula's tedious fuel with a rival electricity company taking center stage in what should've been the ultimate vampire seduction. It could've been the plotline of an old age sitcom, and still would've made sense. 

Honestly, however, I was not expecting better. I may be hideously biased in my criticisms of the American production here, being brought up on the slick-shot BBC dramas of the time, but in my experience, Sky's Dracula could be lost in a blur of poorly shot, and failed horror dramas, to no great loss or devastation.