“Mockingjay” Glides The “Hunger Games” Trilogy Home On Fumes

“I’m going to be the Mockingjay.”

So the third and last of Suzanne Collins’s “Hunger Games” trilogy, “Mockingjay,” pretty much devolved into political commentary. It kind of reminded me of the “newer” “Star Wars” movies, in which too much of the plot was mired in discussions of trade embargoes, taxes, tariffs and the like; stuff you’d expect more in a courtroom than on “Tattooine.”

Likewise, the intensity and momentum that marked the first book was diminished in the second and pretty much nowhere to be found in “Mockingjay.” By this point, as a reader, you’re basically tired of Katniss, who has now had three full books to parse her emotions beyond the surface and define her feelings for both Gale and Peeta. In fact, I found myself agreeing with Johanna (which I have to believe is contrary to Collins’s desires), who eviscerated Katniss with a searing assessment of her:

“Jealousy is certainly involved. I also think you’re a little hard to swallow. With your tacky romantic drama and your defender-of-the-helpless act. Only it isn’t an act, which makes you more unbearable. Please feel free to take this personally.”

For “Walking Dead” fans, Gale is essentially positioned in the “Shane” role from TWD, while Peeta assumes the “Rick” personality, refusing to give up hope in a non-violent solution to a situation unsolvable without it. I felt this was an effort by Collins to reduce Gale to a one-dimensional character, which I didn’t buy as a valid out for Katniss.

“It costs your life,” says Caesar. “Oh, no. It costs a lot more than your life. To murder innocent people?” says Peeta. “It costs everything you are.”

The main plot, however, is driven by Katniss being caught in the middle of the revolution, fighting both against and alongside people she can’t trust. Who are the good guys? Which society is truly more repressive? Collins deals in subtle symbolism, but also intertwines some shockingly brutal scenes, which is somewhat surprising and jarring. There were also some confusing scenes (I still don’t quite get Katniss voting “yes” for a new Hunger Games), as well as some that evoked true emotion.

The central theme of “Mockingjay” was the question of what is real and what isn’t. However, I didn’t think much of the epilogue and I felt the entire trilogy ended on a bit of a forced note—which, to be fair, may have been unavoidable for such a grandiose work of fiction.

The premise of “Hunger Games” was tremendous enough to draw you in, and the non-stop intensity of it was enough to keep you there. Sheer momentum propelled you to “Catching Fire,” which sustained itself largely on the first book’s emotion and urgency. However, the merit of “Mockingjay” was mostly derived from the need to complete the trilogy, though it is admittedly healthy to keep in mind the context of this being young-adult fiction.

Collins’s trilogy has lent itself naturally and easily to the big screen, where the “girl power” theme is sure to speak to a generation of pre-teens. And though the books themselves eventually get bogged down in bureaucratic speech, political affairs and overt violence, Collins has surely created something that will go on to become a staple within this genre—no small feat no matter the audience.