There is nothing as amoral as neutrality, except for nature. “Remember,” says Haymitch to Katniss, “who the real enemy is.” Minutes from the movie’s end, she does remember, although she never quite knew, and takes unquivering aim at a force field in the sky.
That the Games are controlled by computers far far away is supposed to make this a futuristic, or speculative, plot. On the ground, however, the combat is still flesh-to-flesh with handheld weapons. This is not much longer the reality of war. Instead, flocks of drones—not good, not bad, not violent—begin to carry out the unequal distribution of terror. The Hunger Games becomes a sweet Baudrillardian nostalgia trip. It succors me to watch it. To think—the stomping boot of history once had a human face.