Oh, so that’s what the Star Wars prequels were trying to do: trace the downward trajectory of a man from a good guy in a bad situation to a bad guy in a good situation — thanks in part to a healthy dose of heartbreaking loss. And director Francis Lawrence & Co. get it done in just one movie, even if it is long and tripartite. Alas, the third part is the weakest, even as it must do the most heavy lifting by giving us the Fateful Moment of Turning. (A slip of the tongue? Really?) But even it is not without its pleasures, thanks in no small part to the cast of characters and the casting of those characters: Peter Dinklage and Viola Davis are equally arresting in their roles as reluctant teacher and mad scientist, respectively. The excellence in casting extends to the leads: as the future President Snow, Tom Blyth is magnetic, as he must be if he is to attract the viewer who is at the same time recoiling at his project: mentoring a poor soul from one of the rebellious outer districts in preparation for a fight to the death in the Hunger Games. The story here is strong enough to stand on its own, but of course, it is a prequel, and there is a grimy pleasure in seeing the clunky early iterations of the later Games’ slick social machinations — especially Jason Schwartzman’s sideshow precursor to Stanley Tucci’s fabulous Master of Ceremonies. Other pleasures are purer, such as delighting in Rachel Zegler’s turn as gypsy songstress Lucy Gray Baird. (Her first performance is her weakest, but by the time the figurative songbird is facing literal snakes, she’s downright soulful, and the songs have been properly woven into the narrative.) Overall, it’s a pleasant surprise: an expansion of a completed story that doesn’t feel like a cynical cash grab. (2023) — Matthew Lickona