Snow lands on top.

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Four pivotal words distinguish yet another of Suzanne Collins’ dystopian masterpieces; it has finally made it to the big screen—the prequel offspring of The Hunger Games trilogy. President Snow’s story of youth and insatiability takes center stage in The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes. Divided into three main overtures (with a brief prelude to set the stage for a war-wounded world), the film is a true testament to the potential of adaptation. Thank you, Francis Lawrence, for bringing Collins’ vision to life once again.

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The film’s main events pick up at the start of the 10th annual Hunger Games, following the Dark Days of war. This year will be different from the past nine; this time, the bright graduating students of the Capitol are acting as the Games’ first-ever mentors. The goal for Panem: to turn the Games into a spectacle. The goal for Coriolanus Snow: to win the Plinth Prize and restore his family’s financial security. Although the Snows have maintained appearances well, it is quickly made apparent that they are nearly destitute. Snow finds himself mentoring the District 12 female tribute by the name of Lucy Gray Baird. Lucy Gray is a performer at heart, a member of the gypsy-like Covey band in her district (although self-identified as drifters), and a willing participant in her mentor’s craftsmanship of her public persona…after a little persuasion on his part, that is. Motivations aside, the two must navigate the Games together—only to find that most dangers exist outside the fellow tributes. I am stopping my summary there, as this is a part of my spoiler-free sections.

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Packed with a talented cast ensemble, Songbirds and Snakes was set to be a memorable premiere. Strong performances reigned all around, but perhaps the most powerful ones belong to Tom Blyth as Coriolanus Snow, Rachel Zegler as Lucy Gray Baird, Josh Andrés Rivera as Sejanus Plinth, and Viola Davis as Dr. Gaul.

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It is now that I will offer a spoiler warning. If you have not yet seen the film and have never read the book, you may wish to skip to the end! I will label the ending to the spoiler zone.

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Rachel Zegler’s performance in the film succeeds in giving Lucy Gray a new kind of vibrancy. From her expressive singing style (a pained kind of swan song with every lyric) to her bold dialogue with Snow, she is a heroine worthy of the vivid dresses she wears. In fact, I would argue that she gains more autonomy in the film as opposed to its textual counterpart, in which a lot of who she is and how her mind works remains a mystery. Of course, adapting a book like this one that is rife with subtlety must sacrifice some mysteries for the sake of not confusing the viewers, especially when the pacing of events is as fast as the Hunger Games entails. In this new cinematic view of Lucy Gray, we gain more insights into her active participation in the Games, later leading to a more distinct image of her as a victor.

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Dr. Gaul is no exception to the vibrancy of film portrayal. The extensive costumery and makeup alone create a kind of serpentine chaos in her appearance—you never know when Dr. Gaul might strike. Davis expertly taps into the eerie nature of Dr. Gaul in both her line delivery and mannerisms. Her first appearance in the classroom above the students/mentors is striking in her horror film-esque stillness at the start and her riddle-patterned speech. It is here that I would like to note an interesting observation: the singular blue eye of Dr. Gaul is quite the color match to Coriolanus’ piercing blue eyes. Perhaps such a decision was meant to point to the villainy and chaos lurking beneath the surface for Coriolanus? Or maybe it is simply a hint of his future internship with Gaul, working with her directly as the game maker? All the same, it provokes an interesting take on the phrase, “Eyes are the windows to the soul.”

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In juxtaposition to Gaul’s Capitol identity is the conflicted role of Sejanus Plinth. A martyr-in-training, Sejanus counteracts the influence of a character like Gaul upon Snow’s morality. Sejanus is a vocal dissenter of the Games and their cruelty, having grown up in District 2 himself. He has a distinct obsession with doing the right thing, usually in a radical way—similar in fact, to Gale Hawthorne’s kind of radicalism in thoughts and actions. His eventual demise is a fitting end to the powerlessness that comes with living in the Districts. Snow’s reaction to the results of his betrayal is one of his most memorable performances throughout the film—a slow transition from stoic apathy to a guilt-ridden breakdown. Although this was an excellent portrayal of Snow, I cannot help but wonder if they should have better incorporated the rationalization of his inner monologue from the book, in which he asks himself, “What choice did you have?” (Collins 472) This line is an apt example of the “good guy” complex, with its seemingly pure intentions that often conceal a subtle manipulation of the truth.

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Tom Blyth’s performance as Coriolanus “Coryo” Snow is an excellent portrayal of the enigma that the character is. Where the book seeks to convey a kind of unfolding of his true nature, the film seems to convey the actual shaping of it in real time. His intentionality, like Lucy Gray’s, is more apparent in the film than in the novel (likely as an aid to those who have not read the book, who may have trouble tracking the faster events). He does not make a split-second decision to tamper with Gaul’s snakes in the film, but rather seeks them out and creates a prolonged plan to do so. Additionally, Coriolanus finds a way to aid Lucy Gray in attacking the other tributes, which is an entirely new side to his investment in the Games. Snow truly does live up to Lucy Gray’s labeling of him as a “rebel.” Similar to the novel, it can be difficult to determine exactly when Snow’s loyalties shift. Perhaps it’s when he uses the jabberjay against Sejanus.

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I think perhaps the real shift occurs when he’s in the Hob during his time as a peacekeeper and finds himself drifting away from the song Lucy Gray wrote for him, eventually leading to the climactic flipping of the switch in his altercation with Billy Taupe, Mayfair, and the others. The moment when the switch flips for Coriolanus is convincing, but I find it interesting that up until that moment he seems to be far more empathy-inducing than sociopathic, the sociopathy being an impression of him that I found to be more notable in the book. Of course, I am still unsure whether to diagnose him as a sociopath or a good old-fashioned narcissist. Maybe Lawrence has determined it for me, and I should embrace the clear narcissism of Coriolanus’ motivations and quick changes in perspective. No matter the consensus, it is easy for me to say that Blyth crafted an excellent portrayal of a despicable character reaching the limits of his redeemable character, and facing the inner conflict that comes with that point in time. From his minute expressions to his clever manipulations, Blyth shows us the snake disguised as a flower.

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Before I conclude my spoiler-filled review, I want to discuss two pivotal scenes: the moment Lucy Gray saves him after the arena bombings and his final attempts to kill her. How ironic that flames nearly burn him up and that his love—or rather, object of obsession—seems to disappear into the trees, amid the symphony of mockingjay song. What a chilling prelude to his end at the hands of the “girl on fire” and her rebel title of  “the mockingjay.” It is this selection of parallels in particular that evokes my only true critique of the film adaptation: they should never have cut out Lucy Gray’s line that “The show’s not over until the mockingjay sings.”

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End of Spoiler Warning

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Let’s talk about the general symbolism of the film! Symbols are everywhere you look, even in the title. Lucy Gray in her colorful array of showmanship presents a visual of plumage, which matches her appreciation for birds and ironically fits her inclinations towards snakes as well. The vitality that Lucy Gray represents crafts an image of Spring, whereas Snow himself symbolizes the gradual frost of winter’s approach. In fact, that approach seems to reach an interesting turning point when we hear the line, “Do you hear that? It's the sound of Snow falling.” While it is acceptable that Lucy Gray and Coriolanus pose as two opposing seasons, might it be a stretch to suggest they represent two halves to the identity of Katniss Everdeen? Maybe it is, but I’m going to throw that suggestion out there all the same.

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Before going into watching the film, I want to point out a few things. First, Coriolanus’ name. His first name alone means “victorious” and fascinatingly enough, Coriolanus is the title of a Shakespeare play. In the play, which is based on historical events, Roman general Coriolanus makes his name defeating an enemy army and defending Rome, then later faces banishment and a tragic end due to his own actions. Second, I want to point out the symbol of his grandmother’s roses. The scent of roses is known to conceal other things in both The Hunger Games Trilogy and this latest addition to the franchise, although it is only explicitly mentioned in the books. How interesting then, that some scenes throughout the film contain roses while for others they are nowhere in sight. Additionally, the colors of the roses he is either wearing or gifting vary in color, ranging from white to red to yellow…

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The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes is a unique addition to Collins’ franchise not only because of its different characters and place in time but also because of its notable musical elements. Zegler gives an exemplary musical performance as Lucy Gray, creating a soundtrack that is beautiful and haunting in its lyrics. Her rendition of “The Hanging Tree” sheds new light on its impact upon President Snow during Katniss’ age of revolution. What that must have done to Snow hearing the music reborn after so many years, with its clear connection to his own life and the things he witnessed alongside Lucy Gray. The soundtrack of the film complements its cinematography very well, effectively returning to the coloring and sounds of the original franchise. Details such as the stark peacekeeper uniforms and the colors of the Capitol flag present an effective contrast to the persistent grime on the tribute’s faces and the dimmer, more faded coloring of most of the urban environments. A colorful character like Lucy Gray truly stands out in her environment of a post-war Capitol just beginning to lean into its fascination with luxury and whimsy.

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There are some notable differences between the novel and the film, mainly in its pacing. Events leading up to the Games are condensed and sped up a great deal, and the sequence of what happens to certain characters and tributes is altered for the sake of cinematic intensity and easy transitions. Personally, I have no objections to the alterations that were made for the sake of time and clarity. I do think Clemensia should have been given greater complexity and screen time to mirror her role in the book, but I understand the need to avoid drawing the audience’s attention away from its leading actors.

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The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes asks its characters and viewers alike “Why the Hunger Games?” Why should a punishment be made into a spectacle? Why has the Capitol deemed it a punishment deserved by the Districts? And how in the world did we reach a place in which the arena’s ironic repetition of “Enjoy the show!” has actually come to fruition? Coriolanus and Lucy Gray’s story of mentorship and conflicted morals presents a fascinating, and wholly entertaining, dissection of the Hobbes and Rousseau debate come to life: is man naturally good or naturally evil?

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The longest film yet in the franchise, beating Catching Fire by a sliver of twelve minutes, Songbirds and Snakes is worth every minute. I highly recommend this film, both for the avid THG fan seeking greater depth to the lore and for the film buff seeking an intense and entertaining showcase. This film has revived the ominous magic of immersing oneself in a dystopian world that mirrors elements of our own reality. It is not lacking in some self-indulgent fun though. Jason Schwartzman as Lucky Flickerman echoes the laughter-inducing nature of Stanley Tucci’s Caesar Flickerman, creating a kind of dark humor element to the Games that provides levity to its dystopian intensity. Embracing my full bias, I am rating this film 5/5 stars. You can be sure I will be seeing this again. For those of you that have not yet purchased your tickets…

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Enjoy the show.

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-Schuyler Becker 

CSU Stanislaus