The nagging
probably started more than a year ago. I don’t remember exactly when. But it’s
been constant, unrelenting, maddening. My eldest son, 11yrs – who I’ll call
Geek Boy for the purposes of this blog - decided he had to know everything
there was to know about The Hunger Games.
He wanted to
read the books. I said no, he wasn’t old enough. He wanted to see the movie
when it finally came out. I said not while he lived this side of Hades, or at
least not until I’d seen it for myself, or he turned thirteen, whichever came
first. He said it wasn’t fair; his friends were allowed. I said his friends
didn’t have mothers who read and reviewed thirty or forty Young Adult novels a
year. I said I knew about the Hunger
Games, I’d read them all. Those other mothers didn’t.
He said he was an advanced reader; again it was unfair that other kids were allowed to read it and he
wasn’t. I said I don’t care, I’m nasty and I’m evil and I didn’t think he was
ready. He could read The Hunger Games when he was old enough to understand the
book properly, that it was more than a bunch of kids forced into an arena to
kill each other for what was, essentially, entertainment for the privileged, a means of governmental control, a commentary on a
fucked up society. He read reviews of the books. He watched trailer upon
trailer when the first snippets of the movie were released online. He memorised
the names of actors and their characters. He put forth intelligent argument
after intelligent argument as to why he was mature and literate enough to be
allowed to enter The Hunger Games world. As his mother, I felt the step was too
big for him to take. Once he’d read and hopefully understood The Hunger Games,
his literary tastes would be changed forever. There would be no going back. Reading
these books would cross him over a threshold I wasn’t sure I wanted him to
take.
In the end,
I gave in - with a little help from his Dad, who got fed up with the nagging
before I did. He convinced me Geek Boy would probably pinch the book from my
shelf and read it anyway. So, we agreed that if he read the book, beginning to
end without dipping into anything else in the meantime, then yes, he could see
the movie.
My little
Chip-Off-The-Maternal-Block read the first book in a day and a half. But did he
get it? Hell yes. The two of us have
had some amazing, mature discussions about the many themes Suzanne Collins
touched on throughout this series. Reading The Hunger Games was a kind of
coming-of-age thing for him – and me. We discussed not just this particular
story, but dystopias versus utopias, the writing style (first person, present
tense), the use of a strong female protagonist, the Big Brother phenomena, society’s
current obsession with reality TV, sympathy and empathy, civil war and
politics. These books have been an awesome bonding experience for the two of
us.
So this
week, I kept the parental side of the bargain. Together, we saw, loved and
spent hours discussing the movie. Frankly, I was blown away by his reactions
and understanding of a film that we both felt was as faithful as it could be to
the original novel. Of course there are differences; minor changes in character
and plot. Geek-Boy and I were worried
about how the movie makers would adapt a book written in such an intimate
manner from lead character Katniss’ point of view without using her as a
narrator giving some sort of naff voice-over. Lead actor Jennifer Lawrence squashes
that concern with her first five facial expressions. Her ability to convey
emotion without a word is subtle and heartbreaking. The two scenes that come to
mind most are an intimate moment with Cinna seconds before the tributes make
their appearance in the arena. Katniss trembles in silence like only someone utterly
terrified can do. The second scene is during the actual games, when another
tribute is killed. Yep, she even made me tear up a bit – no mean feat
considering I was waiting for the moment.
Neither of
us liked the use of the shaky, hand-held camera filming method. It was an
annoying distraction. In the novel, too much time is spent explaining the world
at the beginning before The Reaping takes place (the day where a lottery is
held, picking unwilling ‘tributes’ to be forced into taking part in The Hunger
Games), in the movie, more time is spent afterwards at The Capitol while the
tributes are being prepared for the games. The story works better this way. Bonus
points for more time with Lenny Kravitz as Cinna and Woody Harrelson, who plays
mentor and past Hunger Games winner, Haymitch. They’re both beyond awesome in their roles. Another welcome difference is that
the Haymitch character is far more likeable, though remaining true to form. I
imagined him older, dirtier than Harrelson’s version, but I’m happy to have my
vision changed. Donald Sutherland’s character, President Snow, is underused.
This dude is evil incarnate, but if you haven’t read the book, you probably
won’t get that from the film. This is another case of brilliant casting, and
it’s a shame to see Sutherland go to waste.
The movie is
actually less violent than the books.
That’s not to say the gory stuff isn’t there, it is. But it’s not the focus of
this film.
A couple of
days later, how do I feel about letting Geek Boy cross that line? He’s now been
exposed to horrific violence in literature, a book that forces a mature reader
to think about the ‘what ifs’ long after the last page is read. Fine. I’m still
good with it. He came home and flew through book two, Catching Fire and now he’s deep into the third – Mockingjay. He’s spent three days
immersed in books that are challenging him and lighting a fire in his belly. I mean,
how cool is that? I underestimated his emotional capabilities. I underestimated
his maturity. I went against my own theories that we adults forget that
children cope with and understand far more between pages than we’d like them
to. I tried to swathe my own kid in bubble wrap, conveniently ignoring what I,
myself was reading at his age. Of course, The Hunger Games isn’t for every 11
year old. It’s not for every parent, either. But for Geek Boy and me, it opened
a whole new line of dialogue, and another level of my bookshelf for us to
share. And at the end of the day, that’s what it’s about isn’t it? Being able
to share a passion for good books, characters and plots with your child is the best.
So... now
all I need to figure out is which Stephen King to start him on first?
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