I saw “The Hunger Games” last night. Overall, it’s a good movie with a gripping narrative and a compelling heroine. It paints a very grim portrait of a future American dystopia, where citizens are locked in Dickensian poverty and grime under a highly technologically advanced dictatorship — and a frightening couture apparently decreed by a monstrous consortium of Lady Gaga, Katy Perry, and the ghost of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. Meanwhile, the actual games takes place in an arena that functions like “The Truman Show” meets Lord of the Flies.
Of secondary interest to me was how moving would be the setting by itself; i.e., could Katniss’ village, the lake, and the arena wilderness be so compelling that a reasonable person could expect North Carolina to “reap major dividends from tourism” driven by the film.
In sum, no. Heavens no. Katniss’ village plays very little role in the film and is not particularly fascinating. The lake setting is very pretty but unreachable. And the forest is a forest. Hardcore fans (especially those nearby) may be interested enough to visit, but others? No. It’s a foolish hope — or better, it’s an implausible fiction to prop up a bad state policy.
