Everyone's A Critic, Especially Me

Today's one of those rare times I wished I worked in an office, primarily because of the water cooler chatter. I imagine this morning's been nothing but recaps of the Hunger Games and last night's episode of Mad Men and I'd desperately like to contribute to both these conversations, largely to voice my displeasure. As for Hunger Games? I saw the first show on Friday morning at 10:15 AM. Aside from Fletch and me, there were sixteen other people in the theater. (Clearly this was an instance where I was glad to not have a pesky day job.) Every single thing about the film was spot on - impeccably casted and acted, beautifully scored, cinematically striking, etc. I particularly liked the shaky camera shots and thought they added tension in a clever way. Plus, there wasn't a single wasted moment - every word, every glance, every shot added meaning. I also appreciated how producers softened the violence for a PG-13 rating. And, as an added bonus, not one second of the actual Games had been ruined in a trailer since the producers never released that footage prior to opening day. Beat for beat, the film mirrored the book. (If it hadn't, I'd have been registering my complaints on Twitter immediately, naturally.) Everything about the movie was perfection. This is how you're supposed to make movies based on novels. And yet... I left the theater thinking, "Well, that was entertaining," instead of raving about how my socks had been knocked clean...