In her series Women Of Action, Caroline Siede delves into the evolution of women in action films, examining what these narratives reveal about gender and how the portrayal of female action heroes has changed over the years.

One memorable scene, virtually a silent film, occurs about a third into the first The Hunger Games movie. We see Jennifer Lawrence’s character, Katniss Everdeen, falter during a critical archery display before the Gamemakers who control her destiny in the games. After missing her target and receiving no acknowledgment from the distracted Gamemakers, a frustrated Katniss shoots an arrow into an apple in a nearby roasted pig’s mouth, finally capturing their attention, then storms out, barely remembering to take her bow.

Though barely a word is spoken, this sequence encapsulates a whole emotional and political awakening for Katniss. The term “agency” became a buzzword for female characters in the 2010s, often used to gauge the feminist merit of a film. However, what truly endears Katniss to me is her interiority—a sense of a profound, nuanced emotional life that enriches her character far beyond many other action heroes, male or female, in entire franchises.

Katniss’s journey is marked not just by moments where she seizes control, but also by her periods of powerlessness, making her story uniquely compelling. She is often seen as a young, empowered woman with a weapon, symbolic of the fight against oppression and the quest for personal autonomy at a time when such roles were rare in blockbuster films. Yet, the depth of her character, the complexity of her motivations, and the rich metaphors within her dystopian universe are often overlooked, even by casual fans of the series.

Katniss represents the climax of two trends in teenage narratives. The surge in young adult fiction began with Harry Potter and was feminized with the Twilight saga. Suzanne Collins’ 2008 novel The Hunger Games spurred a new wave of dystopian themes, as seen in titles like Divergent and The 5th Wave, drawing heavily on the love-triangle trope popularized by Twilight.

The Hunger Games also has roots in the “teen death” genre, with predecessors like Lord Of The Flies, Stephen King’s The Long Walk, and the slasher films of the 1980s, culminating in Kinji Fukasaku’s Battle Royale. The 2000 Japanese film, which got its first major U.S. release just as The Hunger Games hit theaters in 2012, invites comparisons, though the aims of the two stories differ significantly.

In its film adaptation, Battle Royale uses its brutal game as a metaphor for the trials of adolescence and the harshness of adult authority, similar to Buffy The Vampire Slayer. In contrast, The Hunger Games offers a more literal exploration of themes like war, class, propaganda, and tyranny, akin to the storytelling approach in Andor.

Despite its commercial success and critical respect, The Hunger Games is often underestimated due to its association with Twilight. It’s seen as good “for what it is”—a label rarely applied to franchises with young adult protagonists like Star Wars or Dune. Critics at the time also marked the series down for being less violent than Battle Royale, as if its PG-13 rating diluted its impact. Yet, the real horror of The Hunger Games isn’t the violence between the contestants but the systemic violence they all endure.

The most haunting scene in the first film isn’t a violent death but a teenager smiling from a train window, knowing that appeasing the elite viewers of his death match is his best chance at survival. It’s a poignant reflection of our own world, where public appeals for help must be carefully curated to go viral.

Katniss is compelling because she doesn’t focus on these broader issues. Unlike heroic archetypes who fight for broader societal change, Katniss is primarily motivated by the immediate needs of her family, particularly her sister. Her actions, even when they appear to be acts of defiance, are often driven by personal necessity rather than a calculated challenge to the oppressive system.

Her story resonates particularly with young women because she embodies the role of the responsible elder sibling, thrust into a caretaking position by family tragedy. The film captures this dynamic effectively, showing her protective relationship with her younger sister against the backdrop of their mother’s depression and the harsh realities of their district.

When Katniss volunteers to replace her sister in the Hunger Games, it’s an instinctive act, portrayed with poignant realism by Lawrence. This moment of personal sacrifice highlights the emotional depth that the franchise maintains, setting it apart from many other action-oriented series.

Katniss’s tale also mirrors a broader cultural shift toward greater political engagement among youth, amplified by the rise of social media and movements like Occupy Wall Street and Black Lives Matter. This sociopolitical awakening is reflected in Katniss’s gradual realization of her society’s injustices, moving from personal survival to a more profound understanding of her world’s systemic inequalities.

Despite being positioned as a strong female heroine, Katniss’s real strength lies in her complex personality, which includes significant flaws and a deep-rooted sense of loyalty and protection. Her journey from a naive, reactive participant to a symbol of rebellion, accidental as it may be, adds layers to her character that transcend typical action hero tropes.

The series skillfully navigates the nuances of media manipulation and the complexities of political symbolism, with Katniss’s evolution into a reluctant symbol of resistance becoming a key theme. Her internal conflicts and the strategic decisions she makes reflect a sophisticated narrative that challenges the conventions of both the action genre and the portrayal of female protagonists.

As Katniss eventually confronts the grim realities of her actions and the limits of her influence, the series offers a critique of simplistic narratives of revolution and heroism, presenting a more nuanced exploration of resistance and complicity.

Katniss’s story concludes with a continued reluctance to embrace her role as a revolutionary, a trait that makes her uniquely relatable. In a genre where female characters are often idealized, her authentic human qualities stand out, making her connection with audiences especially powerful.

Next time: Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon celebrates its 25th anniversary