A Timely Dystopian Story: an Unorganized Review of The Hunger Games (the Movie)

picture taken from The Hunger Games official website

          Ever since high school, I developed an enjoyment for a good dystopian novel, a story of an oppressive domestic government and/or cataclysm and how the oppressed deal with the circumstances. Sometimes the details of the setting in a dystopian (the opposite of "Utopian") story are eerily prophetic. Vonnegut's Harrison Bergeron, Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451 (not to be confused with the Michael Moore's propaganda-based and kitschy "Fahrenheit 9/11") and Orwell's 1984 were required reading, and I decided to read Huxley's Brave New World for an elective in high school literature class.
          I went on to enjoy dystopian movies as well, including Children of Men, V for Vendetta and even a younger Arnold Schwarzenegger in The Running Man. Then last night, my wife and I went on our first dinner/movie date in months (here's to life with two toddlers and another baby on the way!) and we saw the new movie The Hunger Games. (I haven't read the books, so some may have to bear with me).
          It's setting is North America of the future, where some type of nuclear war resulted in an oppressive dictatorial and totalitarian regime overseeing twelve impoverished districts. The Hunger Games are a nationally-broadcast gladiatorial death-match between drafted (against their will) teenagers from each district. The lone survivor in the arena gets to bring home district pride and a rarely-experienced abundance of food and supplies to their home region. The government enforces and celebrates the Hunger Games to encourage district pride, build community, and to show their generosity, but some citizens aren't blinded to the Hunger Games' true function: intimidation and control. The first of a trilogy, we follow the story of Katniss, a teenage huntress from perhaps the most impoverished District 12, a district mostly composed of forests and coal mines.
          As with most dystopian stories, it's a powerful, thought-provoking, convicting and sometimes depressing experience. It (rightfully) makes most political complaints in Western society menial at best, and makes us, as a culture and as an individual, question the ethics of our lifestyles, making sure we're not on some proverbial slippery slope into oblivion. We want to stick with our convictions, not feel mastered, even in the face of torture and death. If more people thought that way, mass oppression would be a lot more difficult. As a viewer, I sometimes wanted to cheer for the poetic justice of the sadistic dictatorial government (even though that wouldn't happen until the third installment, if at all), I realized, practically, biblically, and realistically, that a brutal uprising isn't how that would happen. I think the author of the trilogy realizes that, too. (If the trilogy does have a happy ending, that's fairly rare for dystopian stories).
          Christians could use dystopian stories like The Hunger Games to hold a mirror to the ethics of various aspects of their own lifestyle and worldview. Do we struggle with any type of bigotry, whether economic, racial, regional, or otherwise? Are we being a voice for the oppressed, impoverished, widowed and orphaned? Would we stick with our doctrinal, ethical, and practical values in the face of either torturous death or money and comfort? Biblical living, in such an oppressive setting, actually makes the church thrive and God be glorified, as was the case, for example, with Mao's China and much of ravished Africa.  
          So, yes, I'd encourage churchgoers (13 and older, respecting the MPAA rating) to see The Hunger Games. No content is more graphic than it needs to be, and it serves well many of the edifying functions of a dystopian story, which is well needed as the U.S. church is trying to navigate its increasingly politically-charged home country. Some may complain about the absence of any theological content in the movie, but I'm much, much happier with the prospect of The Hunger Games being the subject of overflowing conversation among today's teenagers instead of the Twilight series.