The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes Is an Effective Return to a Cautionary Tale

Eight years ago, when the tragic-yet-hopeful tale of Katniss Everdeen (Jennifer Lawrence) came to a close in The Hunger Games: Mockingjay – Part 2, that was supposed to be it. Author Suzanne Collins’ book trilogy was maxed out by Lionsgate, which they finagled into a movie quadrilogy that only semi-compromised her potent, dystopian examination of the true costs of war and retribution. But then Collins went and surprised everyone in 2020 by releasing a prequel novel, The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, that reveals how young Coriolanus Snow came to embrace his dark side, laying the path to his decades-long authoritarian rule in Panem.

Following Collins’ lead, franchise director Francis Lawrence, producer Nina Jacobson and a gaggle of below-the-line department heads have also returned to the Hunger Games world for an adaptation that adheres closely to the source. Screenwriters Michael Lesslie and Michael Arndt literally port over the three-part structure of the book to peel back the curtain on how the pivotal 10th anniversary of the annual Hunger Games turned Snow (Tom Blyth) into a Machiavellian monster.

As they say, “timing is everything,” which certainly rings true for The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, which is being released into a world where two wars are currently being waged with sobering brutality. Those conflicts stay top of mind as the film’s narrative tackles the timely concerns of the fallout of post-war retribution, the moral rules of engagement concerning civilians and whether humans have the capacity to be better than their basest instincts for survival. However, for all of those meaty and worthwhile thought exercises, there’s also a predestined nihilism to Snow’s story that assures an ending with none of the hope that ultimately defines Everdeen’s bittersweet arc—which is far less satisfying. 

The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes does open very strong, opening with the situational context of what the post-war “Dark Days” did to the residents of the Capitol, creating the kind of anger and vengeance-seeking that could birth a ritual as disturbing as The Hunger Games. Time then jumps 10 years to the eve of the Reaping, an event that has lost its luster with both the still-rebuilding Capitol residents and the 12 Districts that provide two Tributes each to the Games. 

Eighteen-year-old Coriolanus Snow was born into a family of impeccable station, but now tries to hide from his peers the poverty that he, his entitled Grandma’am (Fionnula Flanagan) and empathetic cousin Tigris (Hunter Schafer) are mired in after the murder of their patriarch, Crassus. Having toiled to become the shoe-in for the Plinth Prize scholarship, Snow is dismayed (along with his student peers) to learn that the head gamemaker, Dr. Volumnia Gaul (Viola Davis), wants to add a final assignment to earn the scholarship. Whomever can keep their assigned Tribute alive to the end of the Games gains the scholarship and money. Undeterred, Snow is energized by the singing talent and bold defiance of his District 12 Tribute, Lucy Gray Baird (Rachel Zegler), which he plans to exploit to their benefit in the leadup to the Games. 

Improving upon what he learned directing Catching Fire and the two Mockingjay films, Lawrence executes two very strong acts, Part I: “The Mentor” and Part II: “The Prize.” They cast well with the charming and astute Blyth, who ably carries these two acts as Snow pulls us into his perspective as he precariously navigates the politics of his ruling class, with his genuine admiration for his feisty charge, Lucy. An audacious innovator in disrupting the status quo of the Games, Snow inserts himself into the bleak world of the Tributes to figure out how to best exploit Lucy’s “story” for patronage from the audience, and to shield her from the strengths of her competitors. He believably balances Snow as both opportunistic and sympathetic as his worldview is challenged and expanded through his immersive experiences with Lucy and the Tributes before the Games, and in the Arena. Just when we think Lucy’s influence, or the empathy of fellow mentor Sejanus Plinth (Josh Andrés Rivera) is going to tilt him away from self-aggrandizing choices, mentors like the unhinged Gaul sway him back with grim lessons about the savagery of human nature—a nature that needs to be ruthlessly tamed lest it rise up again.

Eschewing the bells and whistles of the Arenas in his previous films, Lawrence presents a far more merciless approach to these stark Games that have none of the razzle-dazzle of what will come in the future. These Tributes are unleashed inside a closed building and given rusty farm tools to track one another down. The deaths are unflinching and intimately blocked for the most impact. Aside from the Arena sequence featured in the first Hunger Games film, the depiction of this “bloodbath” is arguably the most effective in the franchise at hammering home the viciousness foisted upon these children and the cost to Panem’s soul in letting this travesty exist. Yet, within the melees there are genuine moments of compassion from Lucy that endears us more to her as a person, and builds a chemistry between her and Snow that keeps us guessing about what’s genuine and who might be playing who as the stakes get higher. 

Aside from Blyth’s star-making performance, Rivera’s Sejanus is equally riveting as the naïve conscience of the film. The beloved only son of insanely wealthy parents, his station allows him to challenge the iniquities and sins of their system, but he really has no clue what it means to live outside his privilege. It’s only when he and Snow venture out into the real world in the Districts that his arc plays out in unexpectedly powerful ways. As for Zegler, she shines most when she’s actively testing Snow’s humanity, or compassionately tempering her fear while advocating for the most vulnerable of her fellow Tributes. Surprisingly, she’s less compelling when using her voice to sell dramatic moments. Yes, her voice is undeniably gorgeous. But when Lucy is repeatedly positioned to make a showy point through an on-the-nose song, the “organic” nature of her talent starts to feel very shoehorned into the piece. Some big solo songs and The Covey band sequences desperately needed some snipping, with the full performances best suited to live on the soundtrack recording.

On the Capitol side of things, big performances are the name of the day. Davis plays Gaul outsized in look, cadence and costuming. However, it all works in terms of defining her Hobbesian worldview that says all humans are dangerous vermin to be controlled and forced to conform. Jason Schwartzman meets Davis’ theatricality, and then some, with his turn as Lucky Flickerman, the first-ever host of the Games. As the character is both a weatherman and magician, Schwartzman essentially has carte blanche to be the comic relief as the clueless, preening peacock of the piece. He’s the release valve for the audience as his gallows humor commentary provides some respite from the grimmest sections of the movie. The only actor done dirty is Peter Dinklage, as his Dean Highbottom, the creator of the Games, is underserved throughout. He delivers a Tyrion-lite performance, mostly relegated to being drugged up and irritated about his vague beef with young Snow.

The hefty two hour and forty-five minute runtime is only really felt in the oddly paced and overstuffed Part III: “The Peacekeeper.” Set in District 12, the narrative gets bogged down with the most soapy and least vital storylines of the movie. Outside of Sejanus’s fate, there’s nothing as dynamic as the Games (or even Snow’s machinations) to cling to, so it meanders. What should be the peak of the film’s purpose—determining the victor of Snow’s soul—doesn’t play out with drama or bite. Rather, it sputters towards the fait accompli of Snow’s future self, and an ambiguous final scene that isn’t the haunting coda it should be. Yet, even with its last act problems, The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes is an effective return to the cautionary tale that is Panem. Through Snow’s journey, we’re reminded of the terrifying escalation that violence incites, and what we lose when apathy and power trample all.

Director: Francis Lawrence
Writers: Michael Lesslie, Michael Arndt
Starring: Tom Blyth, Rachel Zegler, Peter Dinklage, Hunter Schafer, Josh Andrés Rivera, Jason Schwartzman, Viola Davis
Release Date: November 17, 2023

Tara Bennett is a Los Angeles-based writer covering film, television and pop culture for publications such as SFX Magazine, Total Film, SYFY Wire and more. She’s also written books on Sons of Anarchy, Outlander, Fringe, The Story of Marvel Studios and The Art of Avatar: The Way of Water. You can follow her on Twitter @TaraDBennett or Instagram @TaraDBen