‘The Hunger Games’ Films’ Casting Choices Have Always Undermined Its Message
Calls for Hollywood to be more diverse are clearly being answered, but is this the kind of “representation” we want?
The Hunger Games are back, but its casting is as problematic as ever.
According to reports, Black and East Asian characters, as well as stories about the LGBTQIA+ community, and people with disabilities in Hollywood are the highest they have ever been. But marginalised creatives in Hollywood have seen relatively little increase in opportunity compared to their on-screen comrades. So, films are more diverse on-screen, but what does it mean to have marginalised faces on-screen without also having creatives who share their experiences in prominent editing, writing, and directing roles?
I found myself pondering this when I saw The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes. I’ve been a rabid fan of The Hunger Games since I devoured the books in 2010, and have been to midnight screenings for almost every one of the films. So every morsel of food for thought I’ll serve here comes from a place of love – especially when I say that The Hunger Games films has glaring diversity issues, though maybe not the kind you think.
~ spoilers ahead for The Ballad Of Songbirds and Snakes ~
Set 60+ years before the first instalment, Songbirds and Snakes dives into the younger life of the main trilogy’s elderly villain, President Coriolanus Snow, following his story from teenhood to young adulthood. But the story is more than a depraved coming-of-age prequel. Author Suzanne Collins painted an all-too-relevant picture of an insulated ruling class, the Capitol, whose war trauma is weaponised by a constant barrage of state propaganda. Why? To maintain an apartheid between the Capitol and the Districts.
The series’ commentary on class conflict, state exploitation of war, and oppressive fascist rule was always clear, including commentary on racism and ableism. But the decade of film adaptations we’ve seen has undermined this commentary with inconsiderate casting.
Let’s start with Katniss herself. Katniss Everdeen is described as having dark olive skin and features throughout all three novels, traits that see her garner different treatment to her blonde-haired blue-eyed mother and sister. No shade to Jennifer Lawrence, but this subtle racial subtext was made moot by her casting.
Similarly, Capitol citizens are described as pale with few to no exceptions in the book. Yet the films cast Lenny Kravitz in the role of Katniss’ Capitol stylist. The clear racial divide that defines Panem’s apartheid as much as class does, is blurred and erased in the films.
What’s more, despite the Games leaving Katniss deaf in one ear (a disability that affects her signature hunting skills) and Peta with an amputated leg for the proceeding two novels — neither of their physical disabilities is represented, either.
While a small number of people critiqued these omissions at the time, these concerns paled in comparison to the uproar caused by Amandla Stenberg being cast as Rue. At the time, some fans were irate; they hadn’t envisioned the character as Black, despite her being described as such in the book. Awkward, considering the actual inaccurate casting of the protagonist and Capitol characters. All in all, the Hunger Games films painted a confusing picture of an apartheid totally divorced from actual discrimination.
The films’ baffling interpretation of an apartheid world where the oppressing class is diverse continues with The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes. In the film, Oscar-winner Viola Davis is Doctor Volumnia Gaul who is the Head Gamemaker of the Games, and Panem Minister of Defence. Meanwhile, Emmy-award winner Peter Dinklage is Casca Highbottom, co-creator of the Hunger Games and Dean of the Capitol’s most prestigious Academy.
For the first four films to erase physical disabilities entirely, only to cast Dinklage in a position of power is, at best, inconsistent, and at worst, shows the filmmakers’ ignorance of exactly how the discriminatory ideologies featured in The Hunger Games actually operate. The 10th annual Games portrayed in Songbirds and Snakes includes two tributes with disabilities, Bobbin (played by real-life amputee Knox Gibson) and Wovey (played by actress Sofia Sanchez, who has Down Syndrome). But there’s no indication that the film has considered what it means for Dinklage’s Cassius Highbottom to see other people, children, with disabilities sent to die in the death game of his creation.
The confused messaging truly comes to a head in Songbirds And Snakes when Reaper, a Black tribute from the predominantly Black District 11, attempts a gesture of rebellion by tearing down a Capitol flag in the arena — only for the broadcast of his symbolic act of defiance to be deliberately interrupted by a threatening transmission from Doctor Gaul. Bizarrely, the film doesn’t seem to consider what it means to have a Black woman undermine and threaten the existence of Black resistance.
The Hunger Games novels are set in a future America divided by war mongering and apartheid. But, historically, societies divided by discrimination don’t have the reputation of a “diverse” oppressive class. It’s not a question of book-accurate casting, but a question of what it means for films attempting to portray an extremely fascist society to cast Davis (a dark-skinned Black American woman) and Dinklage (a man with dwarfism) in roles perpetrating an ideology they’re far more likely to be victims of themselves.
Calls for Hollywood to be more diverse are clearly being answered, but is this the kind of “representation” we want? Stories that don’t at all reflect the experiences of marginalised people, that erase the real realities they face, are not progress. If the best a story made by those in power can offer is imagining the marginalised in the roles of the oppressor, that’s not diversity, it’s propaganda.