The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes - Review

Rating: 3 out of 5

THE original Hunger Games series, led by Jennifer Lawrence, remains (for my money) one of the best examples of franchise filmmaking of its type. It was dark, intelligent, provocative and seldom took the easy way out.

Alas, neither Suzanne Collins (the author) nor the makers behind the films wanted to leave it there. Instead, as is the norm with franchise building nowadays, they sough to expand the world and find ways of prolonging the storytelling.

Hence, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes takes a look at the origin story of Coriolanus Snow, originally played by the late Donald Sutherland in the original films, and how his rise to power effectively informed the style of the Games themselves as they were seen in the Katniss era.

The action therefore takes place 64 years before the era of Katniss, as a young Coriolanus (now played by Tom Blyth) plots a rise to power, albeit with what started out to be decent intentions.

Part of this rise involves being forced to to 'mentor' one of the downtrodden contestants of the 10th games - Rachel Zegler's Lucy Gray - with whom he subsequently falls in love and is therefore willing to cheat to save.

As usual, there's the usual political power plays going on behind the scenes, as various glitterati attempt to carve out their own fortunes and desires - starting with Viola Davis' wildly OTT Dr Volumnia and including Peter Dinklage's scheming, Machiavellian Dean Casca and Jason Schwartzman's oleaginous TV host turned amateur magician Lucky Flickerman.

Given the star power involved, it's little wonder that the likes of Davis, Dinklage and Schwartzman enliven proceedings whenever they are on-screen.

While the Games themselves bring the usual tension and sickening narrative (complete with ick-factor snakes), thereby keeping viewers invested in a macabre way.

Collins' and director Francis Lawrence also imbue the film with some interesting ideas, which question the lessons being taught by the Games and what they mean to society.

But whereas the confused morality and power plays of the first four films felt fresh and genre-baiting throughout, this prequel's grasp upon audience attention is much less so.

Rather, the film itself feels much less rebellious and a lot more corporate - more latter day Snow than Katniss. It's genre supporting and franchise obsessed, with attempts to humanise and conflict Snow more akin to the sometimes laboured approach that the Star Wars prequels took to delving into Darth Vader's back story.

Blyth, for his part, is merely fine in the role - prompting one to wonder how much more Sutherland, in his prime, would have brought to the party.

As for Zegler, comparisons with Jennifer Lawrence are unkind as her Lucy Gray is a much more lightweight protagonist - one that is more predisposed to bursting into song than really investing her character with anything more robust.

Indeed, a major flaw in this film overall is how little you'll feel invested in the plights of either Blyth or Zegler, while pining to see more of the likes of Dinklage and Davis.

Given the film's 2hr 35min running time, however, you come away with the overall feeling that The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes needed to do a lot more to justify its existence than it actually does.

It actually adds very little, while being - at its best - moderately entertaining.