The Hunger Games

I haven't written anything in a week or so and there is a very simple excuse. I write some legit stuff, sometimes. I have like 3 stalled novels, a pilot and a screenplay. I work on them for like 3 months and then I get bored or decide they aren't any good, or I drink a bottle of wine on a "writing night" and I just end up watching Jersey Shore or some shit. You know how it goes. Everything is easier than writing. Reading, watching TV, cooking, taking 45 minutes shits whilst playing family feud. The way I convince myself that this is ok is that most aspiring screenwriters are in their 30's at least. I don't have a prayer of getting anything greenlit until then. But then some little shit like Max Landis writes Chronicle and I get upset, because he is my age, and I could have written that instead of him. But it's ok, he has a famous dad...I use that excuse a lot too. Well if I had a famous dad I would have something published by not, or at least a Writers' Guild card.

But this most recent plot line from Californication with Cappie from Greek becoming this killer screenwriter has made me jealous. I'm a douche, I'm bro-y, I could write screenplays about fucking Hank Moody's daughter. Wait, scratch that. I couldn't she is a heinous cave troll and it offends me that the guy that was banging Kelsey Grammer's smokeshow daughter has fallen to Becca Moody. Oh well at least he cheats on her like whoa, she must be good at giving dome. (What ever happened to Black Rob?)

Onward to the meat of the post. The Hunger Games movie opens this weekend and I am genuinely excited. Not excited in the way I pretended to be for the Twilight movies (I never read them and still haven't seen Breaking Dawn, I was just there for the sparkly Team Jacob shirts and the 13 year old girls) like I am going batshit insane. I read all 3 during my unemployment bender last summer and have been making Katniss Everdeen references ever since because I knew one day it would be cool. Today is that day.

But before I go on a diatribe about how I would sell 49% of my soul to bang Jennifer Lawrence, or how I explain that Gale is infinitely better than that little faggot Peeta, let me say this. I wish the Hunger Games were real. I wish the Running Man was real. I wish Death Race was real. Television programming these days is absolutely atrocious and I think I would get a real kick out of watching 16 year old underprivileged children kill each other. It's like rooting for celebrity drug overdoses, it gives you something to talk about. Are you still whining over Whitney's death? Bah. It made for an entertaining hour on Twitter and you fucking know it. Plus if the Hunger Games were real I would probably be a Capitol Guard anyway...or whatever, I would compete and either die a martyr or win.

Anyway, if you are unfamiliar with the story...let me give you a brief synopsis. An ugly duckling type of girl and her best guy friend (Gale...bro) are like woodsy bad asses. They are both super poor and live in the equivalent of rural West Virginia. The girl's little sister gets picked to participate in this preteen death match, said older girl takes her place and death match begins.

There is a government uprising and Lenny Kravitz is involved, it gets a little weird for a while, but what inevitably happens is when the main character shows up to the "capitol" and shaves her armpits and legs for the first time, it's like holy fucking shit, this girl is a ten. Clearly, platonic best guy friend has wanted to fuck her the whole time, and so does this guy involved in the death match (Peeta...whiny bitch)...love triangle ensues. You can see where this is going, it's vampires and werewolves all over again, except this time with BRUTAL PRETEEN VIOLENCE. (The love triangle isnt resolved until a 2 page epilogue at the end of the 3rd book...sorry)

The best character in the entire story is Woody Harrelson however. He is a future version of me...cirosis of the liver and all...he is a 40 year old ex champion (oh by the way the winner of the death match is revered as a god the rest of their life) who can't get out of bed in the morning without a full bottle of Jack Daniels. Each participant gets a coach...Woody (Haymitch) is Katniss' coach. When he's not vomiting on her at dinner or falling off trains, he's actually pretty skilled in the art of war.

I'll allow you to draw your own conclusions about the characters as you see the film, but I strongly recommend reading the first book before you do. It will take you about 4 hours and then you can be one of those snobs walking out after the film that complains that the book was better. I really hope they didn't phone it in with all the gratuitous violence or I will be sorely disappointed. But check it out and root for my man gail this weekend and may the odds be ever in your favor.

By the way, this is how I give notes on source material...I probably wouldn't be a good assistant for MP Lit.