Should You Follow the Crowd to Divergent?

Thrills abound, but the broad brushstrokes could use some finesse.

Beatrice Prior is 16—that's enough drama for a movie right there. But her adolescence is extra-angsty. She lives in post-Apocalyptic Chicago, where high walls shut out the world outside, and rigid social structure keeps order within. Citizens are divided into five so-called Factions—Amity, Erudite, Candor, Dauntless, and Abnegation—whose members embrace their group's named trait. (Yeah, some Factions' names are nouns, and some are adjectives; this movie's main trait may just be Sloppiness.)

Young Beatrice was born into the Abnegation clan. Its members live to serve others (in fact, they run the government), and wear silly, flowing frocks suggestive of community-theater directors; hardly appealing to a teen. Luckily, Beatrice can soon pledge allegiance to a different Faction if she wishes, after taking a test—think psychedelic S.A.T.—to suggest her best fit. Yet the exam (a scary sequence for younger viewers) finds that Beatrice is Divergent, fitting no Faction. She's urged to hide that fact; the Divergent are often hunted down for threatening societal norms.

On Choosing Day, Beatrice opts to become Dauntless, a group charged with the city's defense. Her Prior family literally becomes her prior one, as she renames herself Tris and masters stunts like jumping from a hurtling El train. Can she mask her Divergence and fit into her fierce new family of choice? This coming-of-age struggle is what makes the movie such catnip for teens (and so blatantly reminiscent of The Hunger Games, its superior cousin). Adults may also enjoy Tris's sizzling chemistry with her mentor, a chisel-faced hottie named Four.

Yet grown-ups will also struggle with the plot holes, some large enough to drive an El train straight through. For example, don't all teens who abandon their born Factions show a Divergent nature? And if the Divergent must hide their identities, why does one character have a huge tattoo about it on his back—why not tattoo a bullseye on your forehead, dude? And how did the city's leaders fail to see that dividing society into Factions would invite rivalries and coups? I mean, have you ever heard the word "factions" without "warring" preceding it?

If you're able to keep those troubling questions at bay for 2 1/2 hours, though, sit back and enjoy the ride—your kids are dragging you to Divergent no matter what.

Rated PG-13. No sex, but violence and startling imagery may make this a tough watch for even Dauntless kids 9 and under.

This review was written by Deborah Skolnik, a Greenacres mother of two and the Content Director for Myron Corporation, a large business-gifts firm in Maywood, New Jersey.