The Hunger Games: Catching Fire, part two in the dystopic sci-fi series based on Suzanne Collins YA novels, is the best of all properties so far titled The Hunger Games. Better than its predecessor, and better than the novels that inspired the films-if it is at all possible to compare a film to the source material. Catching Fire is not a perfect movie but it seems to perfectly understand the role of the sequel and the seriousness of the film’s message. Catching Fire has earned comparison to classic sci-fi sequels like Empire Strikes Back, and such comparisons are not, despite the initial reactionary impulse we might have, unfounded.

It is no surprise that the weight of The Hunger Games: Catching Fire rests on the shoulders of Jennifer Lawrence, who in J-Law fashion, wears Katniss Everdeen like a lion. Ms. Lawrence does not operate on subtlety. She commands the screen at all times, forcing everyone else to adapt to her presence or be lost in the background. This is how she operates-a once common style from Golden Age of Hollywood-and it is always fun to watch. Some may not appreciate this tactic. But you cannot criticize a lion for hunting.

In The Hunger Games then Jennifer Lawrence is queen of the jungle, but far from the only animal of consequence. For a big budget, Hollywood blockbuster Catching Fire employs a refreshingly diverse acting class who are allowed to turn in off-the-wall performances (a lesson perhaps learned from the revolving door of brilliant actors that Harry Potter employed?).

If Lawrence roars on camera (to beat this metaphor to death), pairing her with the soft-speaking intensity of Jeffrey Wright as a genius tech-tinkerer in the games is a master-stroke. Amanda Plummer plays crazy as well as anyone. Seeing Jena Malone as an axe-wielding powerhouse is a welcome surprise from the quieter roles I’ve always associated her with (which is mostly Saved!). Philip Seymour Hoffman is, as always, filled with gravitas. Stanley Tucci and Toby Jones as hosts to the Hunger Games reality television programming remains a searing indictment of our own trashy indulgence.

Just a short list to demonstrate that if you’re disinclined to enjoy a fantasy sci-fi epic about economic injustice and battles to the death, there are still deliciously ripe performances to sink your teeth into. My favorite of which is Elizabeth Banks’.

Elizabeth Banks has turned Effie Trinket, the Capitol-assigned assistant to District 12, into one of the most moving characters in The Hunger Games. The film’s most emotionally resonant scenes (and there are several) come early, watching as Effie’s mask of Capitol grace slowly succumbs to the realities of the Districts. In Catching Fire, Effie’s tasked with bringing last year’s victors-Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Melark-on a Victory Tour, and eventually back to the Capitol for another round of games. Confronted by the desperation of the poor and the brutality of the Capitol, Effie tries hard to keep a brave face.

Perhaps the fashions of the Capitol are another tool of the government? If you do break, no one can see you through your mask.

Banks’ performance, like Lawrence’s direction, is unflinching, and it highlights why Catching Fire has been so well praised. The Hunger Games only works if played for realism. The subject matter of the story is serious business in the film, but even more so in our world. If you offer a break from the reality or a moment to wink at the audience, it would all descend into farce.

Which is a tough balance to maintain, and it all depends upon the depth of emotion created in those early scenes. Director Lawrence succeeds early in the film through his portrayal of Katniss and her memories of violence, of Effie’s slow crumble, and of the lives of the poor living in the district-highlighted in a brutal public execution. Lawrence shows us all of this in the first minutes, and refrains from retreating from the emotional credit he has earned.

Which presents another problem: if you play The Hunger Games straight it is very, very sad.

If the crux of The Hunger Games is economic warfare, the districts are the battleground. The powerful and wealthy citizens of the Capitol can only maintain their status by exploiting the workers in the 12 districts-each producing a different but necessary trade or industry: technology, masonry, fishing, mining. In order to continue the flow of power and wealth into the Capitol, tyranny rules the districts. As unrest begins to surface, President Snow uses ever increasing extremes of domination to keep the people subjugated. Bleak stuff.

The chief actors in this tyranny and rebellion are Katniss and Peeta, teenagers who last year killed other teenagers for sport and as a result have become national icons. How does one live with that? Their dreams are haunted with death, and their waking lives are spent remembering violence they have committed. They are simultaneously symbols of hope for the people of the districts, and pawns being manipulated by President Snow to maintain the power of the Capitol. People are being beaten, starved, executed. Do nothing, they are told, but smile and read a prepared statement.

Coping with victory is a difficult process. Winning the games is not, frankly, a great outcome for anyone. “There are victors”, some one says, “but there are no winners.”

The story that unfolds in Catching Fire is complicated, but its core is familiar. Revolution is stirring as the abuse of the Capitol grows. The hope inspired by Katniss is spreading beyond the Capitol’s control. Eventually, another Hunger Games competition is played, this time with winners of previous Hunger Games as the contestants. The reason for this is pragmatic: eliminate Katniss, and any other victor who might be inspired by her actions.

Thus Katniss and Peeta find themselves back in the arena, along with 22 others. Some of these victors are rich and famous, some elderly women, some drug addicts. All are meant to kill each other for the pleasure of a live audience, and for the political machinations of the President.

Catching Fire holds to its (sometimes silly) plot as it must-leading to an extravagant arena competition with all the special effects a movie like this requires. But as it does so Francis Lawrence provides a cold, matter-of-fact representation of a society in free-fall.

There’s almost no romantic edge in the film, nothing of the pomp and glory you might expect, be it for show-as President Snow recognizes-or felt in earnest-as the reality show glamorization feeds on. For Lawrence and Catching Fire, inequality is a cause for rage. President Snow is the target of that rage. And war might just be the outcome of that rage. One of the most important successes of Catching Fire is knowing that outcome, however necessary, is not cause to celebrate. It’s a cause for sadness.

There’s no denying this is a dour affair. But it’s not bleak beyond approach. Francis Lawrence is an exciting director (Water for Elephants, I am Legend are both under-rated) and understands the material. Building on the foundation of the first film (directed Gary Ross), Francis Lawrence clutches more tightly to the science-fiction elements in the story. Political revolution is a classic element of the sci-fi genre, and Catching Fire has a rich understanding of this past. There are moments in the districts, for example, that remind one of the scenes of Loonies in revolt in Heinlein’s Moon is a Harsh Mistress.

Francis Lawrence also puts the talents of his stars to great use. I could write as many words as this entire review exploring the way the director plays Jennifer Lawrence off her partner in the games, Josh Hutcherson. Katniss is a fierce warrior, and Jennifer Lawrence embodies her strength and power without pause. Peeta, who loves Katniss dearly (and perhaps unrequitedly?), is a far more gentle and delicate figure. Hutcherson has a sweetness in his eyes and a softness to his words. His downward glance bespeaks a kindness that audiences never find on Katniss.

Peeta is, in archetypal terms, a classic damsel in distress, requiring a rescue from Katniss every few scenes, it would seem. A dynamic which makes their relationship both unique and powerful. (A note also made by Stake editor Andrew).

But all of this is secondary to the purpose of Catching Fire, which is to portray inequality in an effort to enrage. I have said this is a sad movie, but the sadness is not without gall. Everything Lawrence does in Catching Fire is preparation for the final moment, when Katniss is awakened, and then, at long last, awakened.