very impressed

I know its been a while since I've posted.  Preparing to teach, starting classes in my MFA program, and other things have kept me busy.  I'll update you on all of that in a later post.  For now, whats on my mind is the final installment of Suzanne Collins's Hunger Games trilogy, Mockingjay.

Wow.  I've already talked about how impressed I was by her first book.  I haven't reviewed her secondbook, Catching Fire, and probably won't get around to it, but it didn't disappoint.  I knew it would be difficult for her to exceed my expectations after such an amazing first book, and she came pretty close.  I don't think it was quite as good as the first, but still an amazing book in its own right.  She did a great job of progressing the series.

And, today, I just finished reading Mockingjay.

Once again, wow.

While Catching Fire progressed the series admirable, Mockingjay completely exploded the story and issues (in a good way).  The only progression of a trilogy that has been so well constructed that I can think of (and, admittedly, this one towers far above the Hunger Games) is Dante's Divine Comedy.  (Thats right, I just compared The Hunger Games to the Divine Comedy.  You heard it here first, people.)  Really, though--Collins's method of constructing a trilogy is worthy in every way.  She got that right, at least.

And she got a whole lot more right than that.

What caught me off guard (and impressed me most) about the third book was how the stakes were higher than the other two books in just about every way imaginable.  All the conflicts--between people, between the Capital and the Districts, between ideas and philosophies--were bigger.  More pressing.  And, of course, there was no shortage of new conflict added to the mix, as well as old conflicts that I thought had taken a back seat.  I'm avoiding specifics here because I'm avoiding spoilers (because I don't have much time and want to get these thoughts out), but hopefully you're getting the picture.

I will say, perhaps as a warning, that Mockingjay was a very, very violent book.  But in my opinion, it wasn't excessive.  It was necessary to the story Collins was trying to tell and the world she had created.  It was disturbing at times, much more so than either of the first two books, but it drove the themes of her books that much closer to home.

The book wasn't perfect by any means.  The prose in the beginning was slightly annoying at times (almost Meyer-esque, dare I say it), and there were one or two rather heavy-handed sections where Collins's themes seemed to take over her writing.  But other than that, her prose was very crisp, and Katniss's personality was clear as crystal.  Also, I won't mention how the love triangle in these books worked infinitely better, and seemed much more real, than a certain other series of young adult books that may or may not involve vampires and "werewolves."

And the ending--bittersweet, unexpected, but satisfying.  I couldn't ask for more.

In my opinion, the Hunger Games trilogy is a must-read.  Get your hands on it now, if you haven't already.

dream on

And of course . . .

Inception (SPOILER WARNING--this whole post might be teeming with them!) was a pleasure to watch. It was captivating, thought-provoking, and epic. It had a good storyline, good writing, and some pretty good acting, as well.  In fact, some of those things were much better than good, they were great.  Fabulous, even.  The movie overall was a huge success, as thrilling as it was intriguing.

That being said, I don't think it was perfect.  If anything, I think it stopped achingly short of the absolutely INCREDIBLE film it had the potential to be.

But, it was still an awesome film.  Here's some reasons why:

• It wasn't an action film (per se), and this was a pleasant surprise (although considering the nature of The Dark Knight, I should have known better).  It had action in it, of course, but this action felt needful, and appropriate to the film.  (I'll admit I am an occasional fan of inappropriate and unnecessary action, but I don't think it generally contributes to well-crafted and inspiring films.) The main action scene I recall involves Joseph Gordon-Levitt in a crooked and gravity-less hotel hallways, and it was Matrix-esque in its quirkiness and innovation.  Indeed, overall the action was a positive component of the movie, and its relative scarcity certainly helped, ironically, leaving room for the (far more important, in my opinion) intellectual and emotional aspects of the movie.
• The acting.  First of all, Leo is turning into a very respectable actor.  I was particularly impressed with his role in The Departed, and I've heard good things about what he did in Blood Diamond as well (which I have yet to see, although its on my Netflix queue . . .).  I thought his acting was worthy in Shutter Island earlier this year, and his role in Inception as a gritty, mentally unstable widower was in the same tradition and equally profound.  Ellen Page did a fantastic job in the film--her gigs in Juno and Whip It were cute and well-executed, but she shows herself capable of some real acting in Inception.  But, surprisingly, I was most impressed with Joseph Gordon-Levitt's performance.  I think he really stole the thunder from Di Caprio, and I would go so far as to say his role was Oscar-worthy (he's come a long way since the days of 3rd Rock From the Sun).  Ken Watanabe, Cillian Murphy, and Dileep Rao deserve nods for their performances too, and--oh-- Marion Cotillard's performance as Leo's wife was simultaneously heart-wrenching and highly disturbing.  In fact, my only qualm with the acting was that Michael Caine wasn't in more scenes (really, can anyone ever get enough Michael Caine?).
• The world-building in Inception was fantastic.  Although I didn't find the film as mind-bending as it was advertised, and I anticipated most of the "twists" from early on in the movie (I have a dreadful knack for that), what did blow my mind was the depth of the dream-worlds Christopher Nolan created.  Shiny golden props to him for creating such a fascinating world.
• Christopher Nolan himself.  With such films as The Dark Knight, The Prestige, and Memento under his belt, I expected quite a bit from him with Inception.  He delivered.
• Ambiguity.  I'm a sucker for ambiguity, and Inception had loads of it.  The final scene with the spinning top* quite literally tops the movie off (no pun intended, please).  But everything from character motives to in-world rules to the meaning and interpretation of the film itself oozed obscurity, and thats my bag of tricks, baby.  It was delightful.

So, those were some things I enjoyed in the film, among a great many others that I'm probably forgetting.

Now, why do I think it fell short, you ask?  Well, I'll tell you.  First of all, it was supposed to be this mind-bending, surprising, innovational film that changed things.  Well, it didn't do that for me.  As I've already mentioned, the dream world(s) it(them)-self(ves) surprised me, and bent my mind in a few new directions.  I appreciated that.  But the plot itself, and therefor the film as a whole, did not.  It was relatively predictable.  The twists were anticipated, if you can call them twists at all.  The movie does a lot of make-up work for these shortcomings with its deep and surprising characters and its ambiguity, but the holes are still there (at least for me).

And another reason:  I think the movie didn't delve into the Limbo concept as much as it could have.  I think it could have taken things a lot further down there, have made the movie even more epic than it was, and it just didn't quite make it there.  It is still epic, of course, but it could have been that much deeper.  I wish, in a way, the film would have taken its own advice (both in regards to creation and "going deeper").

But, those are minor issues when compared to the whole.

In the end, I thought the film was a blast--and not only a blast, but a quality film too, worthy in just about every respect.  I'm already looking forward to Nolan's next venture, and Leo's next role, and Gordon-Levitt's future as an actor--and, of course, anything involving Michael Caine (seriously).  I wouldn't even mind a sequel in the Inception world--I think it could be done in good taste, and I'm still itching for the deeper aspects to be plundered.

My Rating:  ****** (6/7 stars)

*  I'll mention briefly my opinion on the end of the film (and hence this footnote will be SPOILER-ridden).  My heart tells me that the top toppled.  It fell over, and Leo's character had finally come home in the end.  My mind, on the other hand, insists that the top continued indefinitely, and that he was still in a dream, and that his wife had been right all along--in fact, the whole movie itself seemed to be an (failed) attempt at Inception in Leo's own mind.  He rejected the inception, and chose to live his own reality.  And I think there is actually a lot of evidence that supports this--the whole movie itself, even the supposedly non-dreaming sequences, seemed suspiciously dreamlike (Leo wedging himself through an increasingly narrow space to escape strange pursuers, reminiscent of the security-pursures in Murphy's subconscious, among others).  But there is also something to be said on the fact that, in the end, Leo DIDN'T CARE--he set the top spinning, and instead of staring intently to see whether it would fall or continue, he leaves it alone.  This signifies enough change in his character that the movie can end with a feeling of accomplishment and contentment, whatever ending one interprets as canonical.  Its all about the ambiguities.

Review: The Hunger Games

The popularity of Suzanne Collins's book The Hunger Games has spread like wildfire since its release in 2008.

And now, having finally read it myself, I can understand why.

First of all, her world-building is top-notch.  The post-apocalyptic, dystopian setting she has created is as impressive as it is haunting.  There is one major political force in the accessible world (located somewhere in the western U.S.) called the Capitol that rules its twelve satellite-districts with an iron fist, the culminating example of its power being the Hunger Games, a sort of Gladiator-meets-Survivor Man with teenagers held between the twelve districts, supposedly to discourage rebellion.  I found Collins's approach to the post-apocalpytic/dystopian world refreshing and innovative, with elements I've rarely seen before (or at the very least, elements presented in ways I've never seen them before).

Her second strength:  characterization.  The main character, Katniss, is shockingly real and well-rounded.  She was very well written, and I felt I came to know her better and better as the book progressed.  Katniss had some beatiful conflicts, both internal and external, and the ways she dealt with them were real and believable.  Other characters that I thought were particularly well-written were Gale, Rue, and Haymitch--even Peeta, who I think is one of the weaker characters, still has his shining moments.

And then there are the Hunger Games themselves.  I have to say, I haven't read a sequence this engrossing since, perhaps, the Army battles in Ender's Game.  The way Collins describes the fighting and survival is true edge-of-your-seat, nail-biting action.  She also integrates her world-building into the Games seamlessly, revealing interesting facts and histories in the world as she adds conflict and intensity to the Games.  And although I found much of the Hunger Games slightly lacking in some descriptions and imagery, the effect nevertheless seemed to contribute to the brutality of it all, the stark reality and immediacy of the Games.

Also contributing to the feeling of immediacy is Collins's use of first-person present tense as the main method of telling the story (from Katniss' point of view, of course).  I found it an interesting and, ultimately, a very wise choice for the book.

Another refreshing aspect was the love triangle.  Don't let the terminology throw you off, this is no vampire-werewolf-clumsy teenage girl love triangle.  It felt much more real, much more believable, and much more in depth than any other attempts at the cliche I've seen lately (I'll name no names).  Admittedly, it is a cliche, but Collins handles it responsibly and creatively.

Quite honestly, one of my biggest worries is how the second (Catching Fire) and third (Mockingjay) books in the series will be.  Now that the Hunger Games are out of the way, I wonder if Collins will be able to keep me as interested as I was in this first book.  She certainly has her work cut out for her, and I'll find out soon--I have the second book on hand and will read it as soon as I finish the YA novel I'm reading right now (Percy Jackson and the Sea of Monsters).  But I must say, as engrossing as Ender's Game was, I've always thought that Speaker for the Dead was a better work in just about every way (except, perhaps, on the excitement level).  I'm not sure if Collins has the same miracle inside her or not--The Hunger Games is a phenomenal book on almost every level, with only a few micro-flaws--but it will be interesting to find out.  I'll let you know what I conclude.

My rating:  ****** (6.5/7 stars)

Two (very unrelated) reviews

Leon:  The Professional

I've been hearing about this movie for some time now, mostly as Natalie Portman's acting debut.  I finally watched it the other night, and pleasantly surprised does not do it justice.  More like delightedly dumbstruck.  Rapturously amazed.  Exultantly astounded.

It was a really good movie.

The acting, first of all, was superb.  I didn't think Portman would be as believable as she was (her only other young performance I was aware of was in Phantom Menace--not known for its acting by any means), but I was with her every step of the way.  Her portrayal of the abused, disillusioned, neglected, infuriating young girl with nothing to live for was touching at times, funny at others, and often surprising.

Jean Reno's performance was impressive as well, both lonely and enigmatic, but it was Gary Oldman's portrayal of the villain that caught me most off-guard.  He was terrifying and despicable, and but strangely alluring.  I have nothing but respect for Oldman.

The story was surprising as well--when I thought I was in for a long assassin-in-training montage, I got some unexpected character development.  When I thought betrayal was imminent, I saw a strange friendship.  The ending was somewhat predictable--it is the type of story for which I can only conceive three or four possible endings off the top of my head, all of them very similar--but it was tastefully done and kept me interested in the film and the characters.

Overall, I would highly recommend it, especially if you're a fan of any of the three main actors in the film.  A very well-done, surprising movie.

My rating:  ****** (6/7 stars)

The Next American Essay

Edited by John D'Agata

And, of course, my first official foray into the world/genre of nonfiction.

D'Agata arranged the collection by taking a different essay, from a different American essayist, from every year from 1975-2003.  Each year is preceded by a segment of an essay that D'Agata himself wrote, weaving in and out of each author and each year, connecting them all together.  Indeed, D'Agata's essay was one of the most compelling components of the compilation--not only was it a great connector between each collected essay, but in and of itself was a thought-provoking and informative piece about the genre of the personal essay.

I've discovered that the personal essay (and nonfiction in general) is really a hit-and-miss category/genre for me.  I loved some of the pieces in the collection.  Some of my absolute favorites included the prologue by Guy Davenport, "And;" Annie Dillard's "Total Eclipse" from 1982; Eliot Weinberger's "Dream of India" from 1984 (which, incidentally, was the inspiration behind the current nonfiction piece I'm working on regarding perceptions of Mormonism); "Notes Toward a History of Scaffolding" from 1990, by Susan Mitchell; and from 1997 David Foster Wallace's "Ticket to the Fair."  Each one of these essays either informed and educated me, mystified me, emotionally provoked me, intrigued me, or all of the above.  They were delightful samples of the genre, and pieces that genuinely inspired me to venture my own attempts in the genre.

But there were a few other essays, ones I won't mention by name, that I found boring and overly presumptuous, if not utterly useless.  Whether they're more of an acquired taste or the type of essay that I simply will never appreciate remains to be seen as I continue exploring the genre.

I'll return again to D'Agata's own essay (again, without a doubt on an equal level of the favorites I mentioned earlier, and one of the more delightful sections of the compilation).  Portions of his last entry I found particularly interesting, especially in light of my current thoughts on nonfiction.  To quote D'Agata (p. 435-6):

"Some literature in this genre challenges [the] very presumption of fact."

"What happens when an essayist starts imagining things, making things up, filling in blank spaces, or--worse yet--leaving the blanks blank?  What happens when statistics, reportage, and observation in an essay are abandoned for image, emotion, expressive transformation? . . . There are now questions being asked of facts that were never questions before.  What, we ask, is a fact these days?  What's a lie, for that matter?  What constitutes an 'essay,' a 'story,' a 'poem'?  What, even, is 'experience'?"

"Facts, in these essays, are not clear-cut things.  What is a lyric essay?  It's an oxymoron:  an essay that's also a lyric; a kind of logic that wants to sing; an argument that has no chance of proving anything."

I'm loving (and appreciating, as this volume is the one that made me seriously question my understanding of "nonfiction" in the first place) the blurring of fact--"statistics, reportage, and observation"--and nonfacts--"image, emotion, expressive transformation."  That, to me, is one of the most appealing aspects of creative nonfiction.  It is nowhere near as confined as I once considered it, and this collection (among other things) has taught me that.

My rating:  **** (4/7 stars)