3.5 stars. Rating: PG-13, for action, violence, dramatic intensity and mild sensuality
By Derrick Bang
Veronica Roth’s fans should be
pleased.
Scripters Evan Daugherty and
Vanessa Taylor have done an impressive job, condensing the author’s debut novel
for its big-screen adaptation; it’s not easy fitting 487 pages into a
139-minute film. Director Neil Burger (The
Illusionist) also deserves credit for guiding a solid cast through a deft
blend of character angst and action set-pieces.
Divergent is a polished, well-executed
sci-fi melodrama that should have no trouble tapping into the fan base that has
devoured the adventures of Harry Potter, Bella Swan and Katniss Everdeen.
Indeed, I deem this first
cinematic installment of Roth’s trilogy noticeably superior to the first big-screen
chapters of the Twilight and Hunger Games series; Daugherty and
Taylor are far better at establishing back-story, and laying the groundwork for
the gradually building suspense. By the same token, Roth’s cynical, cautionary
take on human nature seems more probable than the gladiatorial nonsense at the
heart of Hunger Games, which I’ve
always found a rather unlikely pill to swallow.
But the dissolution of a
so-called utopian society, due to the greed of one faction? Goodness, we know that to be psychologically sound,
and it’s even happening today, in this country; we need look no further than
the unchecked avarice of our current one percent.
Casting also plays a significant
role, of course, and Divergent also
satisfies in that respect. The core young actors are well suited to their
respective roles, with star-on-the-rise Shailene Woodley admirably anchoring
the narrative.
The story is set in an
unspecified future, following some sort of war or cataclysm that has rendered
much of the United States uninhabitable (so we’re told). What’s left of the
city of Chicago has been re-built into a working civilization that is divided
into five factions: Abnegation, for kind, selfless souls who place society
above their own interests; Amity, for the peaceful farmers who work the land;
Candor, occupied by those who value honesty above all else; Dauntless, the
warrior caste that maintains peace and defends the city’s perimeter; and
Erudite, for the intelligent researchers who develop and maintain all
technological advances.
Upon reaching their 16th
birthday, all children take an unusual “aptitude” test, to determine which
faction best suits them. Those results aside, they’re allowed to select any
faction during the subsequent “Choosing Day.” While most children adhere to the
faction of their birth, Choosing Day always delivers a few surprises.
And, once having made this
decision, it’s irrevocable. Even if young adults decide that they’re unsuited
to their enclave of choice, they cannot change; at best, they can become
“factionless” (i.e. homeless street-dwellers).
If this sounds a bit like Harry
Potter’s sorting hat and Hogwarts’ four houses ... well, yes, that’s obvious.
But Roth’s take on this process is far more intriguing from a psychological
standpoint, since it revolves around the struggle between aptitude and free
will.






