May the odds be ever in your favor…

…unless you piss off Donald Sutherland, in which case your demise is imminent.

Sutherland’s stony gaze aside, I was genuinely impressed with The Hunger Games, which opened in theaters this weekend. I am always on the search for movies to satisfy my epic film cravings--Harry Potter is over, The Avengers isn’t out until the summer, and so I went to see Jennifer Lawrence in this dystopian future fantasy.

Hunger Games packs a powerful punch of artful cinematography, captivating character dynamics, and nail-biting action. Because the premise of the story is so simple, it’s the characters that shine in this film. The entire movie is peppered with great actors--many well known, and others that are newer--that bring life to each relationship that develops.

It’s also a lesson in contrasts. Part of what makes The Hunger Games so fascinating to watch is the constant juxtaposition of wildly different elements in its universe. There is the obvious difference between the abject poverty of the enslaved Twelve Districts and the opulence of the Capitol--but even beyond that, disparities abound. The humanity of one character against the deadly brutality of another. Nineteenth-century prairie dresses and Japanese masquerade costumes. (Why are there powdered wigs in the future?)

But what is most disturbing is the surreal disconnect between the stark reality for the competitors on the ground and the glossy reality TV projection of their suffering and death. It’s a projection of our own obsession of “reality” entertainment and the wealth disparities that exist not just in the US of A, but on a more striking scale worldwide. Like Fahrenheit 451 and 1984 before it, this story forces us to examine the baser elements of our culture and ourselves, and where those roads may lead.

While “May the odds be ever in your favor” is the “I have a bad feeling about this” of The Hunger Games, luck doesn’t have much to do with it. It’s the courage and strength of one character to inspire many in the face of absolute terror. And I hope that is more of what we’ll have to look forward to in this trilogy.

I Watch TV: Awake (and a little Fringe), plus the Four Episode Test

[Note: "I Watch TV" will be an ongoing column, published when I feel like it at irregular intervals, where I blather about whatever I saw on TV that I especially liked/didn't like. This week, it's "Awake".]

It's official: NBC's "Awake" has passed the four episode test and is now penciled in on my "must-watch" list. I say penciled because we only just got the fourth episode last night. Very rarely do I write in shows in pen before at least midway through the first season. "Awake", however, is solidly on track for ink-inscribed immortality, unless the execs at NBC pull a "Firefly" or a "Life" and screw it up.

If there’s one thing I like on TV, it’s high-concept shows with strong characterization and consistently solid writing.

Fun with Sanchez and Tebow!

It's great to see new teammates come together.  Sidenote: Do NOT Google "Tebow Sanchez".  It's for your own good.  But for now, let's check in on Starting Jet and his new sidekick . . .

Picture from CBS.com; fair use for parody.

Mad Cap Maxie

Presenting, for just the second time anywhere, "Mad Cap Maxie," by Michael C Lorah and Patrick Brosseau.

(And Shotgun readers, even if you hate my script, give some love for the awesomeness of Mr. Pat Brosseau's artwork and lettering. You can see more of Pat's short comics and illustrations at his art blog: http://oddsnsods.tumblr.com/)

Easy Manning/Tebow Jokes!

Create your own!  Fun at parties!   (This AP photo violated under fair use for parody.)

Rock God: Springsteen at The Apollo review by Russ Burlingame

Typically, Bruce Springsteen's deep catalog of hits and his willingness to experiment makes his setlists—even during years-long barnstorming tours—somewhat unpredictable. Still, out of the twenty-five or so songs that the Boss and the E Street Band will play on any given night, something like 15 or 18 of those are fairly static during any given tour, and many of them will be predictable (the first single off the current new album is usually either the first or second song in the set, for example, with “Badlands” in the first third and “Born to Run” in the finale).

It was with some interest and curiousity, then, that Springsteen's fans tuned into Friday night's concert at Harlem's legendary Apollo Theater. It was the first show of a new tour, released just three days after the official street date of his new album, Wrecking Ball. And while a good chunk of the night was spent paying tribute to the soul and R&B legends who helped build The Apollo (using a series of MoTown covers which are unlikely to be repeated with any frequency), the energetic show not only set the bar pretty high for the rest of the tour, but certainly seems to have given fans some things to think about.

The Talking Dud

I'm a big fan of the Walking Dead comic book. The TV show? Eh...not so much. I've been loyal to the show for two seasons now and most likely will remain so until the final episode, but more out of curiosity how the show will approximate the source material as opposed to conviction that it's compelling television.

Because it isn't.

It's terribly acted, horribly protracted, too often amateurly written with plot holes wide enough to fly a fleet of Executor-class Star Destroyers through. What pisses me off me most is how the show seems to go out of its way to destroy my fondness for characters that I've spent ninety-plus issues of my life with.

Great Moments in Rock

From 2005, at The Grammys.  Young Joss Stone does all right, but it's Mellisa Etheridge, just back from battling cancer, that brings it home.

Great Moments in Rock

Foo Fighters.  Best of You.  Wembley, 2008.

What are some of yours?

Scheduling Note . . . DC Nation

Users of DVRs and more arcane methods . . .

Note that tomorrow marks the debut of the DC Nation programming block on Cartoon Network.  Green Lantern, Young Justice, and assorted shorts will be present.

Feel free to come back here, talk about it, and say rude things about The Russ.  (It's okay; he loves it when you call him Curtain Jerker.)