I struggled, writing the end of my short review of The Hunger Games, over just how grand a claim to make for Katniss Everdeen as a heroine. In the end, after much umming and ahing, I plumped for ‘one of the most exciting heroines in film’ which, perhaps tellingly, my editor changed to ‘one of the most exciting heroines in recent film’. Though I deliberately avoided the historical qualification on that term, I might now add ‘mainstream, Hollywood’. But more important in my formulation of that argument, though, was my choice of adjective. There have been various interesting and highly readable debates via reviews, blogs and newspapers as to whether Katniss is a ‘good’ heroine, an ‘empowered’ heroine, a ‘strong’ heroine. Is she a feminist icon, or the princess in the fairy tale? But these sorts of value descriptors are, for me, inadequate at getting to the heart of Katniss, and analysis of the character in these terms is almost unproductive given that she does not stand alone from the world of the film itself, in which to be good, empowered or strong is to be dead.

What this Alternate Take intends to do, then, is to get away (as far as is possible) from questions of ‘good’ and ‘bad’ representations, and focus on what excites me about Katniss Everdeen and her representation. In part, I am writing this because I want to understand just why I - a 25-year-old feminist academic vegetarian from Smalltown, UK - feel so inspired by a 16-year-old hunter living in a poverty-stricken mining community in an authoritarian dystopian future on the wreckage of what was once North America. I hope that you don’t mind coming along for the ride.

First, I’d like to talk a bit about fire. Oh yes, that’s exciting, isn’t it? It is obviously no coincidence that fire is the metaphor used during the Games to sell Katniss’s persona to the viewing audience. The construction of this image is presented firstly as a departure from the conventions of presentation for District 12 tributes (‘we’re always coal miners’, chirrups Katniss, helpfully), but also as a departure from the media construction of femininity. When Katniss first meets Cinna, she tells him that she knows that his is there to ‘make me look pretty’. Rather, he corrects, his job is to help her make an impression.

The metaphor of ‘the girl who was on fire’, however, in both the film and the books, entraps the audience in a double-bind. We recognise - as we must, since the film insists upon its construction - that this is the spectacular image that has been created in order to sell Katniss as a potential winner in the Games. But we are also seduced by it ourselves. The extension of this metaphor across the narrative makes this no less complex - as Katniss’s fire becomes a spark in a tinderbox, a spark that alights the Districts’ appetite for rebellion. Her fire spreads… well, like wildfire. That the concept of fire can fuel Katniss’s attempts to survive in the arena, a civil uprising within the film, as well as widespread adoration from fans outside of it, is a testament, I think, to what a clever move the metaphor is.

The best characters, the ones that stick with us, are flawed and nuanced - this is why we all think Han Solo is so cool, and no one gives a crap about Luke Skywalker. Harry Potter? Pfft. Everyone’s favourite is Ron, or Hermione, or Draco Malfoy, or just about anybody other than the blank canvas at the narrative centre. Part of the reason that I wanted to avoid here the question of 'good'/'bad' female representations is because this often disallows nuance, flaws or inconsistencies of character - which is, of course, what makes them identifiable and human. (And it should be noted that film criticism and films themselves are usually far more allowing of these character traits in male characters than in women). Furthermore, such analyses which assess the achievements of representation as they relate to gender all too often work to a restrictive hierarchy that posits ‘masculine’ characteristics as desirable and derides the stereotypically feminine.

This is another point at which I find Katniss Everdeen an exciting heroine. The character blends these virtues, all to often binarized into ‘masculine’ and ‘feminine’, into one rounded and believable human character. The reaping scene is, I think, emblematic of this. Katniss, on this day, must embody two roles: (1) that of her absent father - hunting, putting food on the table, keeping her mother and Prim steady; and (2) that of potential tribute teenage girl. The camera lingers over her preparation of her appearance in front of the mirror, as if to make the audience aware that this is a preparation for the camera itself. I’ve watched the film twice now, and the moment of Katniss’s volunteering sends shivers up my spine: her voice and expression in equal parts steely and hysterical, the soft drape of her mother’s dress flowing around her frame as she stands tall, broad and rigid. This is her moment of sacrifice - and what Katniss does, she does quite literally in the name of sisterhood.

Credit must be given here too to Lawrence’s particular embodiment of this character - which is one of steeled determination and masked vulnerability, conveying quick and shifting emotions in a very skilful manner. Her performance is full of small flourishes that add up to make a big impression. The shaking of her whole body and that wide-eyed stare as she climbs onto the platform to enter the arena are stunningly moving and affective.

As well as the obvious allegory of the cruelty and vapidness of a ruling elite, Katniss is also aligned with a critique of the film’s two major satirical targets - reality television and ‘makeover’ culture. Makeover in the film is medicalised, made into a procedural ordeal in which the end result is not a happy reveal of a “new me” but of the painful and calculated construction of an image-based persona. Anyone, but any woman in particular, who’s ever seen The Swan can’t help but feel the pang of recognition.

Katniss’s refusal to be ‘just a pawn in their games’ has obviously struck a chord with many young people - boys and girls - and it is clear that she articulates a frustration that many of our youth (and a lot of us grown-ups, too) feel but are unable to express. And, just in case there were any doubt about whether these fans adore Katniss for her spark and spirit, or for her position in a heteronormative fairy tale, I’ll leave the last word to them:

This Alternate Take was published on April 13, 2012.