Final Rating: 4/5
Nearly ten years after The Hunger Games saga concluded with Mockingjay, director Francis Lawrence returns to the series with an adaptation of Suzanne Collins’ prequel novel, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes. Ballad features an all-star cast of scene-stealing performances, an epic scope, and a thematic core that’s approachable yet unexpectedly deep. Following in the footsteps of the biggest young adult series in recent memory, Ballad stands out as a fantastic film and one of the best entries of the franchise.
Set 64 years before the events of The Hunger Games, Ballad stars Tom Blyth as Coriolanus Snow, a university graduate in the metropolitan Capitol of Panem (a near-future dystopian vision of North America), played by Donald Sutherland in the original set of films. Alongside 23 other top-ranking graduates, Snow is tasked with revitalizing interest in “The Hunger Games”, an event in which children from the subjugated districts of Panem are put into an arena and forced to fight to the death for the entertainment of TV watchers continent-wide. Snow is assigned the care of Lucy Gray Baird (Rachel Zegler), a musician from District 12, and sets out to help her win the Games and – more importantly – win the hearts, minds, and ratings of the viewing public.
Ballad is split into three parts, comprising the lead-up to the Hunger Games, the event itself, and the aftermath. The second part stands out, with the tension of the Games felt through action-oriented cinematography and a punchy script. Zegler, along with the other talented child actors portraying her “opponents” during the Games, take on extremely passive roles within this part, giving the film a feel closer to a thriller or horror. Though the winner is ultimately the last child standing, plenty of participants interpret survival as a directive to accrue a high body count. At the same time, any interference with the Games is punished by death, ratcheting up the tension whenever Blyth attempts to cheat for Baird’s benefit.
The second part also includes Jason Schwartzman’s hilarious performance as Lucky Flickermann, the “first ever announcer of the 10th Annual Hunger Games”. Schwartzman is astoundingly charismatic in the role, delivering a joke with nearly every line, broken up only by visual gags, and landing each one. Essentially the comedic backbone of the film, Schwartzman drives home the bleak satire at the core of the series, participating in the heartless commodification of teenage death matches for entertainment. Schwartzman’s best line sees him breaking the silence after a young girl no older than 10 is poisoned, to the shock and disgust of the studio audience. “What you’ve just witnessed was violent, shocking, and upsetting,” he proclaims before pointing to a visibly sickened audience member, “if you’re going to puke, please do it off-camera. You’re dismissed.”
The lead performance from Blyth suffers from having to fit the mold of a charismatic but generic young adult fiction protagonist, with his final descent into villainy feeling rushed. Nevertheless, Blyth admirably portrays a cunning opportunist, believably scrappy in all of his scenes, though the script doesn’t always give him enough to work with.
Zegler, when she’s given room to breathe, is phenomenal. The third act explores her celebrity after the Games – interestingly almost entirely unrelated to the Games themselves – and establishes her character Baird as a capable, independent force within her community. She’s also a great musician, with Zegler’s musical talent regularly spotlighted. It’s a shame that Zegler takes until the third act to stand out, because her strongest moments are easily the strongest in the film.
Blyth and Zegler’s relationship forms the heart of the film, but their chemistry never quite works. Over the course of their partnership, the two form something seeming like a romantic relationship, that nevertheless feels consistently antagonistic. There’s something to a relationship feeling fake in a movie about using entertainment to quash rebellion, but it never quite feels like the artificiality of their relationship is the point. It just feels like the leads weren’t suited to act against each other.
Ballad’s supporting performances are consistently amazing. Peter Dinklage plays Casca Highbottom, the high-strung and vindictive academy dean who seemingly hates every student – Blyth’s Snow in particular – and refuses to engage with the Games beyond what’s absolutely necessary. In one of the best scenes, Dinklage invokes Johnathan Swift’s “Modest Proposal” to point out the farcical nature of the world he inhabits. Far from a biting meta-critique of the work itself, Dinklage’s cynicism of the Games instead serves as an alternative philosophical argument that works to challenge the dystopian setting of Ballad while also strengthening its world.
Viola Davis delivers a phenomenal performance as Dr. Volumnia Gaul, the tyrannical Gamemaker overseeing the Hunger Games. Somewhere between an informal dictator and a mad scientist, Gaul’s entrance in any setting is immediately terrifying. Not only is Gaul transparently villainous, she’s also ruthless, cunning, and the smartest woman in her field.
A final standout supporting performance comes from Josh Andrés Rivera as Snow’s friend Sejanus Plinth. Born into money but also from the Districts, Plinth sympathizes with District rebels and actively engages in open rebellion. While Rivera portrays him as a man with the noblest of intentions, Ballad firmly places him as an antagonist to Snow. Plinth’s treasonous behaviour threatens the lives of all of the main characters, but his family’s money easily hides him from the consequences of the law. Plinth is portrayed consistently as a well-meaning idiot whose heart is in the right place, but whose actions are meaningless at best and destructive at worst.
Outside of the performances, the visuals of the film leave a bit to be desired. The action choreography falls flat outside of the Hunger Games themselves. Several scenes are so poorly lit they might as well be a podcast, made worse by the fact that at least two important minor character deaths happen in scenes like this. Ballad has a huge cast of characters, and while the major ones are the most interesting, the intricate politics of Collins’ world necessitate at least being able to follow along with the minor ones.
Ballad is nothing if not ambitious, its singular flaw being that it only mostly delivers on that ambition. Despite its length, Ballad never truly drags. Despite its enormous cast, nearly everyone in Ballad is delightful to watch. Despite its status as another entry in a billion-dollar franchise, it stands on its own.
Thank you to TouchwoodPR for access to the film.
