Richard Crouse

“The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes,” is an origin story, because what good is a franchise if it doesn’t splinter off in an origin story or two? The prequel set 64 years before the events of the successful Jennifer Lawrence franchise, is a big and bold movie about the future ruler of Panem that feels as though it may have worked better as a miniseries.

The new film centers on Coriolanus Snow (Tom Blyth), scion of the once powerful Snow family.

Orphaned during a civil war that divided the nation of Panem into a wealthy Capitol city, where everyone seems to dress like the keyboard player of Spandau Ballet circa 1983, surrounded by twelve poverty-stricken Rocky Mountain districts, where everyone speaks like a Dolly Parton impersonator.

Coriolanus is living hand-to-mouth with his grandmother (Fionnula Flanagan) and cousin Tigris (Hunter Schafer), trying hard to keep up appearances at his fancy school, and hoping to win an academic scholarship. “Look at you,” says Casca Highbottom (Peter Dinklage), Academy dean and creator of the Hunger Games. “Your makeshift shirt and your too tight shoes, trying desperately to fit in, when I know you Snows don’t have a pot to piss in.”

Despite his hardships, A-student Coriolanus is a shoo-in to win the scholarship until Highbottom announces that the bursary will no longer be award for grades. As part of the upcoming Hunger Games, a televised gladiatorial death-match that pits kids, or “tributes,” from the districts against one another, Coriolanus will have to mentor Lucy Gray Baird (Rachel Zegler), a tribute from the impoverished District 12, given to bursting into rebel showtunes. If she survives the game under his leadership, he’ll get his scholarship and an entrée into the life of his dreams.

What begins as a battle for life and death, becomes a larger story of good vs. evil, of love and destiny, of opportunity and choice.

“The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes” is a big handsome movie with a lot on its mind. Fans of the series will know that Snow goes on to become a villain, an autocratic ruler with a sadistic side. This is how he got there, from outcast to insider, from protagonist to antagonist. The detailed descent into evil is born from his instinct for self-preservation that overrides whatever righteousness once resided in his soul.

Fans may enjoy the trip back top Panem, but “The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes” has a different feel from the originals. The first set of films were very much about Katniss Everdeen’s (who does not appear here) decency as a galvanizing symbol of rebellion against oppression.

This is the anti-hero’s journey, and, as such, it’s darker and not as action packed.

It’s a character study, divided into three sections and stretched to an over-long two-hours-and-forty-minutes. Each episode covers an aspect of the story, but, particularly as we get to the last section, the storytelling feels disjointed, rushed, as if there is too much story for one movie. The world building is interesting, and Blyth is suitably icy, but as we’re ushered through the episodic tale, it feels as if this could have used a different approach to fully flesh out the story. A mini-series might allow the time the story needs to feel fully realized.

“The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes” is a different beast than its predecessors. Lucy Gray’s musical numbers—it sometimes feels like “Hunger Games” done by theatre kids—add a new dimension, and the tone is different, but it is the study of the banality of evil that really sets it apart from what came before.