Slipping into Insanity: The Power of Power in "The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes" - Rhett Bailey

As a member of the generation who grew up on the dystopia genre with films such as Divergent, The Maze Runner, and The Giver, I jumped at the chance to see the film adaptation of the most recent book in Suzanne Collins’ ‘claim to fame’ series, a prequel titled The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes. The story details the upbringing of future President of Panem Coriolanus Snow and his contribution to the recently-established Hunger Games, an annual televised show of children fighting to the death in an arena packed with boobie traps, secret passages, and government manipulation. I urge fans of The Hunger Games who have yet to read the prequel to avoid this blog post and run to your nearest bookstore. Collins’ does an immaculate job maintaining the style of the original books despite the antagonistic nature of Coriolanus Snow as compared to the inspirational heroism of Katniss Everdeen.

In this blog post, I’d like to focus on Collins’ use of power in The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes and its effect on Coriolanus’ morality, as well as compare this effect to another dystopian film, the famous 1979 adaptation of Heart of Darkness set during the Vietnam War, Apocalypse Now. In the original novels, Collins writes Katniss Everdeen as the victim of wealth inequality and oppressive governance, her character developing from a shy girl to one who uses her voice when the weak cannot to emphasize the significance of protest on such governments. Coriolanus’ character development is quite different; Collins showcases the effects of power on the human mind and how opportunities can cause friends to turn on each other.

Coriolanus is introduced as an honest young student working to reclaim a fortune his family lost during the recent war and purchase back his family’s estate for his grandmother and cousin. The Capitol university has its students mentor children entering into the Hunger Games, with the winning mentor earning a large cash prize. The competition turns Coriolanus from one who questions the government and breaks rules to ensure he can provide for his family, to one who betrays his lover to rise the ranks of the military, kill both his best friend and the dean of his college, and ultimately become the power-hungry villain we all know well in the original trilogy.

The pinnacle of Coriolanus’ journey to insanity occurs in the forest scene near the end of the movie. ‘Lovebirds’ Coriolanus and Lucy Gray flea District 12 in fear of being seized by the government, reaching the middle of the woods when both simultaneously realize that Lucy Gray is the only one with the knowledge of Coriolanus’ murder and thus the only one who stands between him and getting home to the Capitol as a revered winner of the games. Lucy Gray flees, Coriolanus following in pursuit until the taunting sound of her voice surrounds him in the form of mockingjays in the trees. Coriolanus falls into insanity, giving up on reconciling with Lucy Gray and emptying his assault rifle clip into the birds and trees around him, shrieking into the empty forest. This scene reminds me of a similar pinnacle of insanity in Apocalypse Now, where Willard and the boat crew become overwhelmed by the simultaneous danger of the Nùng River and their physical power over the natives in Vietnam. Malnourished, tired, and on a cocktail of hallucinogens, Willard and the crew come into contact with more natives towards the end of their journey to Kurtz’ outpost. Although the natives don’t pose a threat to the boat, the crew decides to ride along the shore of the river and unleash a shower of bullets upon the natives, shooting in every direction and basking in the glory of their destruction.

In both scenes, the main characters are fueled by paranoia of losing power in a situation created by themselves. Coriolanus’ selfish and opportunistic nature is exemplified when he foregoes his “love” for Lucy Gray at the opportunity to keep his reputation clean from his killing and claim the spoils of his victories in the Capitol. While I do view Willard and the boat crew more as victims of an oppressive system than I would say for Coriolanus, they similarly grasp at opportunities of power by way of bullets to ease their paranoia in a land of the unknown.