Where, oh where, is the next young adult franchise? One that will line the studio’s pockets with gold and children’s heads with lurid dreams? Look no further: The Hunger Games is here.

This adaptation of Suzanne Collins’ smash-hit novel takes place under the thumb of a totalitarian regime, which holds an annual, televised competition in which 24 children fight to the death until one remains. This year, the poorest district’s “tributes” are the fierce and resourceful Katniss (a confident Jennifer Lawrence) and the thoughtful, lovesick Peeta (Josh Hutcherson).

This series is already so popular that the studio is guaranteed to rake in millions regardless of the film’s quality. It is therefore a pleasant surprise that the film is not only admirably faithful to the book, but that some cinematic panache shows through as well. From the garish color scheme of the capitol to the provocatively framed politicians, the film carefully conveys the corrupt world and bleak outlook of its heroes. It even manages to preserve its gruesome violence without loosing its kid-friendly PG-13 rating.

Unfortunately, The Hunger Games gets carried away with its finesse. Its flair for shaky cinematography and jagged editing make action sequences and crucial flashbacks incomprehensible. Its excessive attention to detail also slows the pace, dragging the film to a two-and-a-half hour run-time.

Similarly frustrating is Katniss’ new, shining morality. In the book, she is a paragon of manipulation, crafting her every grimace to influence her eager television audience. While not mean-spirited, she “cannot afford” nobility. Her romance with Peeta is fake on her part, designed to solicit potentially life-saving donations.

Here, she not only ignores her audience, but falls for the boy. This is a Katniss who, instead of snapping at Peeta, runs into his arms for comfort. This new sincerity kills a vital aspect of her character, and makes her a far less original, less complicated character. It’s a bowdlerization equivalent to putting Lisbeth Salandar in a pink sweater.

The filmmakers will have some tricky compromises to make in the next installment, which is predicated on the fallout of her deceit. Not to mention that the chemistry between the two actors is barely lukewarm. When she looks down at him as he strokes her cheek, she has all the excitement one usually shows for leftover pizza.

Regardless of these minor objections, this is the first series in a long time that leaves me impatient for the sequel. This is the mark of a truly successful franchise: that it not only delights the faithful, but converts the haughty skeptics.

–Britta Hanson