O, Sister

THE HUNGER GAMES: CATCHING FIRE (B) - The first half is a chore and a bore, but the second half -- the actual annual competition -- makes this worth the effort.

The trite (and platonic) love/pal triangle among Katniss (Jennifer Lawrence), Peeta and Gale is less of a big deal this time, thankfully, though Katniss and Peeta must fake an engagement for the audience. The good stuff is the intensity of the games this go-round, including some pretty damn scary special effects.

In addition to juicy return performances by Stanley Tucci (as the unctuous reality-show host), Elizabeth Banks (channeling Katherine Helmond's "Brazil" character as the ditzy escort for Katniss and Peeta), and a snarling Woody Harrelson (as their guru), the sequel adds the late Philip Seymour Hoffman as the all-but-mustache-twirling villain, Plutarch Heavensbee (!), in a sluggishly menacing turn.

Lenny Kravitz's appearance here is limited, though his scenes are key: as Cinna, he transforms the prim, presidentially approved dress worn by Katniss into a subversive (and, of course, fiery) mockingjay costume. And he pays the price for his defiance. That spirit of rebellion is handled oafishly in the first half (we must watch Katniss's heart break on her pre-games tour each and every time a silent protester is subdued by security), but it resonates in the second half, leading to the revolutionary twist at the end. (By the way, at two-and-a-half hours, this second installment is way too long. I can't imagine watching it one sitting; I split it into two viewings.)

Earlier, Cinna styles Katniss in heavy eyeliner as a callback to Liz Taylor's Cleopatra -- as if breaking the fourth wall and winking to the audience, and proclaiming Jennifer Lawrence a true movie icon. Star or not, she's a great actress, going back to "Winter's Bone."

It's to her credit that Lawrence can raise this material to an acceptable level while signaling to both teen girls and middle-aged men alike that we're going to join together as faux radicals in a Hollywood extravaganza for a couple of hours and reel off a trashy tale.

THE HEAT (B) - A guilty pleasure that's easy to stumble across on HBO, this trashy buddy-cop film is buoyed by the fine comic chemistry between Melissa McCarthy and Sandra Bullock, who frequently take pratfalls over the line between clever and stupid.

Not much to analyze here.  The goofiness between McCarthy and Bullock either works for you or it doesn't. To me, the chemistry was just right: McCarthy finds the perfect pitch for her typical ballsy babe, and Bullock avoids the pitfalls of Jerry Lewis excess by hitting notes both straight and broad.

The running gags are perfectly placed. McCarthy's hard-ass cop must take perpetual guff from her cartoonishly Boston family for arresting her brother over his drug activities. (A joke about an albino cop gets run into the ground, but not before it will make you uncomfortable.) My favorite scene involves McCarthy visiting Bullock's bland apartment and going through her things, savagely summing up Bullock's loser life. Her readings of the pathetic epigraphs in Bullock's old yearbooks show perfect comedic timing, and they also provide a perfect bookend (sorry) at the movie's end.

This one's about as funny as "Bridesmaids" with 75 percent less sap, which makes it a straight guilty pleasure. (It's a debut screenplay, and not a bad one, from Kate Dippold a writer from "MadTV" and "Parks and Recreation.") And at about two hours, also is best divided into two viewings. That way McCarthy's  shtick doesn't grow stale.