First: Why does one Girl make such a Difference?
One girl. She dies and everything
changes. You hear the music commemorating her death, are pulled in
and under by grief. The scene changes, still the music plays on with
its quiet but powerful harmonies. A square, packed with people is
shown. Everything will change. But why now? After all these years,
shouldn't the citizens of District Eleven be used to their children
dying? Is that not a normal, once-a-year experience? Sad, yes, tragic
even, but unavoidable? Why does this one death make all the
difference? This one girl, killed unjustly and tragically can move
the whole crowd, the whole nation. First there is one man, one man
just shoving another. A peacekeeper. The problem is: you don't shove
peacekeepers. You just don't. Death, prison for you and your family.
As if the threat of the Hunger Games wasn't enough. But this one man
starts what is becoming a chain reaction, just for the sake of a
little girl. A dead girl past saving anyway. Suddenly there is more, more people shoving, screaming, turning over wagons. Something has
changed. That girl, the innocent twelve-year-old did not die for
nothing. Unlike all before her, her death has an effect on her people
who have become so numb. It leads to the one thing more feared by the
officials than anything else: rebellion. The music goes on.
The end of the movie. Or so you think. The Head Gamemaker, so aloof, so powerful heads to a room he has been summoned to by Snow. But this isn't the end to his Games he has been expecting, let alone looked forward to. He knows something's amiss. All he can do is wonder what this means for him. Reaching his destination, finally, the door closes behind him. And cannot be opened again. Instantly you feel there is something wrong, but the truth only hits you when the large, incongruously beautiful bowl is shown. Filled with nightlock. Click. The very thing responsible for this outcome. And deadly poisonous, just in case you forgot. Carefully prepared for Seneca Crane, the person held responsible, at least by Snow. Highly calculated, as there is no way out, nothing else in the room, no other possible outcome but the loss of yet another life even though the Games are over. Are they, though?
Third: Good News?
The whole nation watches. This is it. The chance for their beloved victors to once again delight, surprise, entertain them. Being almost emotionally attached to them, people are glued to the screens, sitting right at the front of their seats, reacting to every word the tributes say. And then Peeta (methaphorically) sets off the bomb. A baby. What would have been wonderful news in different circumstances is devastatingly inhumane now. Katniss pregnant, headed for the Arena. The Capitol people are aghast. With just these words he throws their own hypocrisy right back in their faces. They are shocked now, but for years, decades, nothing stopped them from sending only slightly older kids to the arenas. Exposing them to this chain of thoughts he reaches some humane part even they did not seem to remember until now. The tributes are persons, humans, just like they are themselves. So why the whole Games? Haymitch raises his glass.
In all of these moments the pictures you see on the screen, the words you hear are so powerful you can really connect with what has happened. Supported by amazing acting, camera work and music in each scene you feel what the characters feel, root for them, want to take action yourself. This is what marks those three scenes as my favourites among the others.