I'm trying to avoid the media frenzy of The Hunger Games being released in less than twelve hours. I've read one review and that's all I'd like to do. I want to do the best that I can (despite the many times I've watched the trailer and a few clips) to go in pure. And by pure, I mean I read the book and will of course compare. I'm debating taking some time off work to see it early Friday afternoon. It should say something that I'm willing to go to the damn theater. I will not say that this is the thinking person's Twilight because thinking people would not dare have any reason to compare this to Twilight.
Here's the deal. After seeing the first trailer after fully consuming the trilogy I knew without hesitation that I would develop a crush on the actor playing Peeta. Hell, I already had a crush on Peeta. It was a natural transference. It came up in conversation with my husband and the second it came out of my mouth, I demanded that he go on IMDb to make sure I was not about to have a crush on a minor and have to lock myself up until he was legal. With this type of story telling, I might just (okay, I already do) have a crush on Jennifer Lawrence. It is difficult admitting this considering I have a long history of hating celebrities my age, let alone many, many years younger than me. But if the talent is there, let go of your hatred.
So being in the clear, I spoke of my (SIGH) Team Peeta affiliation with my sister who introduced me to the books. And by that, I mean she was a legitimate source that these are good instead of the books shoved into my face like a good chick book frenzy does. Actually, her endorsement came from saying it was not like Twilight and she is a fan. She said confidently you Hunger Games is no Twilight. After gushing that Woody Harrelson as Haymitch is the greatest casting idea since Kelsey Grammer as Beast, (Quick, someone come up with an amazing role for George Wendt!) she aligned herself with Team Gale.
I balked as I was not attached to Gale nor did I find a real reason to become attached. Many days later I read about Liam Hemsworth and girlfriend Miley Cyrus and felt once again to go into that "not until you're not a pedophile room" and sob, but instead thought how can I really have a crush on someone that not only has touched Miley Cyrus, no doubt the same day she was near a penis cake, but... wait I'll stop there.
Get off him you bitch! What?..... Oh. Never mind. He's all yours. (Image stolen from the internet here.)
My slip into my mother's territory of not knowing actor's names off the top of my head lead me to many uncomfortable days of thinking my beloved Peeta was portrayed by Thor's little brother, and not Josh Hutcherson. I blame the fact that their natural hair colors are the opposite of their characters.
As Ricky Bobby once insightfully said, "Please be eighteen." (Image stolen from the internet here.)
For a time longer that I am comfortable admitting, I was pouting over this and didn't want to fall for Peeta in real time since I'm a fourth grader and am upset he touched that icky girl. I'm in the clear now, but what the hell is wrong with me?
Discomfort aside, I will pull myself up by my anxiety medication, make the trip to the discounted movie theater as to not get raped by box office prices, and enjoy this damn movie. I fear that in the coming month I will admit that I missed the movie in theaters and instead will just have to wait until DVD. But if there will be one straw that will get me to that large screen it will be two words: THE TOOCH!
