Last year, I enjoyed The Hunger Games. Not a terribly controversial statement, I think a few people quite liked it. Part of my positivity stems, I am sure, from the fact that I went in expecting Twilight with a post-apocalyptic desktop theme.
In actuality, The Hunger Games was much more intelligent than that. It even flirted with being out and out science-fiction.
I did have criticisms. It was far too sanitised — even in a YA film, you don’t need to be patronising — and there was a colossal mismatch in the complexity of the various key relationships. As I left the cinema, I commented that I would have made it a standalone film, and ended on a montage of revolution-esque explosions.
So even suffering from series-fatigue as I was at the time, Catching Fire finds itself with an uphill struggle.