That a prequel to the Hunger Games film series could trigger a crisis of moral philosophy is surprising. This fifth film in the series takes place 64 years before Katniss Evendeen enters the gladiatorial arena and once again 24 terrified children are about to be killed or killed. A kid gets his chest pierced by a pitchfork and a child has his skulls smashed against stone slabs.
Entertainment violence, which in itself is a criticism of entertainment violence, for a cinema audience who wants to see entertainment violence. The thought arises: why are we looking further?
Suzanne Collins found inspiration for her books about the Hunger Games during the Iraq war and the sensationalist TV channels' message of patriotism. Surely there is something familiar about this tale of political oppression and demonization, where the elite call vulnerable groups animals and let them fight for their lives to stifle the demands for freedom. The political message is ambitious, but it has always been the same. The point should have been home.
The plot, on how Coriolanus Snow (Donald Sutherland in the previous films) came to power, has an additional ambition: to show how evil is born. It does if you don't get what you think you're entitled to, such as a woman who fears you're going to kill her. At least for young "Coryo" (Tom Blyth) who has the right surname and grades but lacks the money and therefore, unlike his classmates from rich and/or influential families, has to study hard and stay on the tightrope.
When that's not enough, megalomania kicks in, Snow discovers that even stolen power tastes good, and weak in soul is the one who can't admit that it feels good to smash a disabled boy with a stone club.
One can wonder whether entertainment violence has value, and whether Adolf Hitler or Anakin Skywalker were born good. But this is nothing more than a desperate struggle for the continued survival of the film series. The odds are not in its favor.