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. 

Bad Teacher (2011)

School of Rock meets Bad Education, it's the rom-com-school-flick-raucously inappropriate not-quite-family movie of the century. Following the absolutely horrible, and completely brilliant Elizabeth Halsey (Cameron Diaz), leaving and returning to the school she hates to teach for one more year after her relationship *cough* gold-digging plan *cough* breaks down, as she's forced to resort to desperate measures in the chance of getting some brand new boobs, and hopefully, a brand new moneybags, I mean, man in the process.

Whilst, much like School of Rock, so much of the attention is based on the terrible teaching skills, but unlike School of Rock, there really isn't that much focus on the children. There's the generic spoiled brat, emotional love-struck sweetheart, the nerdy one, the chubby one...very much the typical format, but luckily this didn't actually impact on the film at all. They almost managed to avoid something which is personal hatred of mine, and include too young children in too adult jokes. It doesn't work; it's uncomfortable, and you can almost hear the audience wondering in their head if the child actually understands the joke they're awkwardly blurting out, yet this was artfully dodged, for which I am grateful. 

The supporting characters were, at best,...complex. There's no one defining characteristic for any of them, and many of them change their personality during the course of the film, but in the deeper, philosophical terms, this mirrors much of our real personalities (ever changing and developing), so can, of course be forgiven. Timberlake plays an interesting role here, in that he's both lovable, and incredibly annoying, and from the trailer, we're given the impression that it's his looks which draw Diaz to him, yet she generally seems rather tee-d off with him for most of the film, and it's a little difficult trying to understand what her motives are for targeting him. Another muddled personality type belongs to that of Jason Segel's character, gym teacher Russell, who despite first trying out for the role of geeky and obsessed with the hot new teacher, *think Mr Church and Miss Postern from Big School, Brits* somewhere in the middle becomes a man almost as bad as our grungy protagonist and starts pulling out the mockery and marijuana out from the depths of his gym bag. 

The ladies of the cast seem to have managed to side-step this problem, grilling themselves to stick to the individual roles of psychotic and zany red head 'Miss Squirrel', the obvious antagonist of the film; though from a moral point of view, she really should've been the hero here; and anxious, lonely and desperately trying to make friends with the cool girl, 'Lynn'. Other side characters include '17 Again' and 'I Love You, Man' star Thomas Lennon, and 'iCarly' teen-star Noah Munck. 

The humour in this film, whilst not the most sophisticated, is actually very well done, and there are so many scenes where you have to sit back and just think over again the genius you've just watched. For a woman of so little ambition, Elizabeth is a fountain of undiscovered cunning, and is, predictably, the smartest of the lot of them. Her language is absolutely terrible, but it's so fitting for the character you barely even notice it, though it may not be something you watch with the kids. 

Overall, it's a funny and easy watch, with no errors too large it becomes unbearable, and no heroics too big it replaces the legends. 8 out 10.

'Insidious: Chapter 2'

Released only weeks ago, Insidious 2 has become such a grossly talked about film, with such mixed reviews, it seemed almost criminal not to go and see the sequel of one of the few horror films that actually had me shaking. And generally, I was disappointed.
The story itself picks up just 12 hours after the finale of it's prequel, with the tired and traumatised housewife Renai sat in a police holding cell, trying to explain the unexplainable feats of the nights before, and how there came to be a stone cold dead woman sat in the middle of her living room floor. The family, not living with Josh's mother, spend the first third of the film trying to return to normal before discovering that normality is an unattainable concept, especially with the very same demon returning for their families, in a head-shakingly predictable new vessel.
Overall, the story line is good. The ghoulish villains have an intriguing back story,  the jump scares were rolling in by the plenty, there was a not-quite-shocking-but-still-quite-surprising twist thrown in halfway through, and from beginning to middle, I was interested. Yet, from middle to end, I simply lost focus. The story from that point on became too scattered, too predictable and too plagiarised, it felt like any old horror film; falling chandeliers, spooky, dusty houses, slamming doors and lazy writing. The conclusion to the story was unpleasantly poor as well, seemingly summing up years of trauma in a few short scenes, none of which were performed to any great acting standard, I might add.
The cast itself is reasonably resonant, with the same characters, plus one, resuming pretty much the same roles as in the previous film. Worried wife Renai (Rose Byrne), frustrated father Josh (Patrick Wilson), kindly spiritualist, nerdy ghost busters and children who kick ghostly-butt and whisper creepy warnings through their baby monitors. The new addition to the cast, Carl, played by 'The Hunger Games' Steve Coulter, takes the form of an old friend of the recently deceased Elise, effectively takes the place of resident spiritual contactor, yet actually has a very two dimensional personality in contrast to some of the other characters; far too many of whom had so much screen time, yet spent so little of it actually acting. Another character whose time on screen should've been increased ever so slightly would've been the ghostly demon itself, who, whilst having it's marginally disturbing private and personal life explained away, doesn't really do that much ghostly murdering. Yes, the grim looking 'mother of death' does make a couple of chairs flap about, and whilst she does strum out some terrible piano chords once in a while, she does a surprisingly small amount of damage in the 'real world', and serves only a marginally larger purpose in the 'spirit world'.
One of the complaints I had of the last film was, to be blunt, the flinch-worthy and horribly hammy special effects concluding the second half, yet these appeared to have kept to a minimum in 'Chapter 2', for which I was incredibly grateful. The actual 'scary' moments of the film... well, yes, they were scary, but it was a rather short-fused fear, and were slightly disjointed in comparison to the rest of the film, in all it's dry stretch. I also found that, in comparison to the drawn-out tension of the previous film, the directors decided to drop in some lighter moments of comic relief, typically in the characters of Specs and Tucker; yet these moments were so awkwardly punctuated, stuck in between scenes which might've been scary, or emotional, it just felt unpolished and badly edited. If you're looking for a film to make you jump out of your seat, a real white-knuckle horror...this is really not going to be that film.

'Cloudy With A Chance Of Meatballs' (2009)

As the long awaited sequel rapidly approaches I felt it was finally time to sit down and watch animated foodie film 'Cloudy With A Chance Of Meatballs', in all it's moreish and meaty goodness. And I absolutely loved it.
The story starts with adorable young Flint Lockwood (Bill Hader) a wide eyed dreamer from the grey and grungy town of Swallow Falls (located under the A in Atlantic on the map) who has spent his life trying to invent a contraption to make life just that little bit better; whether it be spray on shoes, monkey translators or even a machine to change condensed water into food...with the latter causing all the problems. With his town falling into a sardine-filled depression, and his father trying to pigeon hole him into work at his tackle shop, Flint realises that both he and his village desperately need some excitement, need something to change and fast to keep them all moving, and so invents the 'FLDSMDFR'. But, as with every invention walking its way out of Flint's underground lab...there's always one major flaw in his underappreciated genius. So, when Flint tries set up his magical machine at the unveiling of the new hand-me-down sardine-based theme park, he is suddenly interrupted, and the machine flies out of control halfway through construction, destroying the park, shaming his father, and turning both the town, and pretty visiting weather girl Sam against him in a matter of minutes. However, what Flint doesn't anticipate is that when the machine shoots up into the ether...the consequences of Flint's actions begin to rain down on all of them...though perhaps not in the way that he expects.
Now, onto the analysis. This film was brilliant for three very different reasons, with the first being the absolutely perfect characterisation of all characters and cast members involved, from stunning and secretly geeky Sam Sparks (Anna Faris), interning at her local weather station in the hope of fulfilling her dreams of becoming a real reporter, to suspicious and shorts-wearing police officer Earl, voiced by none other than the incredible Mr T, with his aggressively endless commentary of love for his young son Cal. Flint himself is obviously wonderful, of course, if slightly predictable in his perpetual awkwardness and his 'underwhelming hero does good, but it goes bad, but then they fix it again' story line. Despite this, he is still a very watchable, and relatable main character.
                 However, the absolute star of this film, for me personally, would have to be the large and unobtrusive father of Flint, a bemused and long suffering man with a magnificent monobrow and the constant confusion of being a teenage parent, who can never quite say what he feels in regards to his son. With his wife having died ten years previously, comfort and encourage for his hyperactive and gangly son will usually appear in the form of fishing metaphors, which Flint has never quite caught the tail of (no pun intended), all of which make for a complex and heart-rendering between the two, something the film handles incredibly well, creating an ending which is very, very relatable for teenagers and their parents all around the world. Another favourite of mine would have to be Flint's best friend and pet monkey 'Steve' (Neil Patrick Harris), the guinea pig of the 'monkey translator headband' whose one word utterances are absolutely perfect in both the lighter and darker scenes of the film.
                The second prong of my analysis would have to be in the graphic effects of the film, in the towns slick and sheer transformation from dull and dented fishing town to tourist hot spot and foodie heaven. The visuals here are absolutely stunning, from the shining jello mansion, the cheese dip street pools, to the beautifully imagined food cloud framing the town, shimmering and glowing in a way that looks practically artistic. It makes for such an enjoyable and intriguing watch, with even the smallest of details making you gasp in awe.
And finally, my ultimate favourite element of the film; the food. As a person who has always found, with a childish sense of glee, food puns to be the absolute height of humour, the grub-related dialogue in many scenes had me howling, whilst the actual images of the food continued to make me absolutely starving as the film progressed. Tip: do not watch this film on an empty stomach. Or with an empty fridge for that matter. The entire plot of the food wars was brilliantly explained as well, leaving no gaping plot holes, and no dodgy summaries to answer the general questions of 'how' and 'why' in regards to a giant cloud of raining food.
In conclusion, I thoroughly enjoyed each and every aspect of this film, from the much appreciated low-key romance sub-plot to the lovable heroes journey through fame and back, and I literally cannot wait for the the next part! Bring it on!