Power of the Prequel: How Sunrise on the Reaping Rewrites The Hunger Games

Spoiler warning: If you haven’t read Sunrise on the Reaping yet, proceed with caution—because much like a Hunger Games arena, there’s no way out of this article without getting hit by a few surprises.

Prequels are a tricky art. Done well, they don’t just expand a world—they redefine it. They take everything we thought we knew about a story and flip it on its head, adding depth and nuance that recontextualize the original. Few authors master this as well as Suzanne Collins, who has turned her Hunger Games prequels into something more than just extra world-building.

With The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, Collins forced us to see the rise of President Snow not as a simple villain origin story, but as an unsettling reflection on power, privilege, and control. Now, Sunrise on the Reaping is set to do the same for Haymitch Abernathy—but what makes Collins' prequels so compelling isn’t just their insight into individual characters. It’s how they shift our entire understanding of The Hunger Games, making even small details—like why Haymitch calls Katniss “sweetheart”—feel weighted with history and pain.

Prequels as Narrative Levers, Not Just Easter Eggs

One of the greatest strengths of Sunrise on the Reaping is its seamless integration of familiar characters without making them feel like mere fan service. Characters like Beetee, Wiress, Mags, and even Katniss’s parents aren’t just there for long-time fans to point at in recognition. Instead, they play meaningful roles in shaping the world of Panem, adding layers to the original trilogy that make moments we’ve already read feel entirely new.

It would have been easy for Collins to simply give us The Hunger Games: The Early Years, a prequel that rehashes familiar beats with younger versions of recognizable characters. Instead, she ensures that everything in her prequels matters. The reader isn’t just getting extra content—they’re gaining a new lens through which to view the entire Hunger Games saga.

Lessons from Other Prequels: What Works and What Doesn’t

Collins isn’t the only storyteller to take a franchise backward in time. Many prequels attempt to recapture the magic of an original work, but not all of them succeed in making themselves essential.

What Works: Better Call Saul & Rogue One

• Better Call Saul is often cited as one of the best prequels ever made because it completely redefines how we see Breaking Bad. What could have been a simple backstory for Saul Goodman instead becomes a deeply emotional, character-driven story that enhances the original. When you return to Breaking Bad after watching Better Call Saul, you see every scene with Jimmy McGill in a new light. Collins’ prequels function similarly—they don’t just tell us more about Panem, they make us feel the history behind the rebellion and the Games in a way that changes how we read the original books.

• Rogue One: A Star Wars Story is another great example of a prequel done right. Rather than focusing on known characters, it instead deepens the stakes of A New Hope by showing us the brutal cost of obtaining the Death Star plans. It makes the original film’s opening crawl feel visceral and real. Collins does something similar with The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes—by showing us the early, brutal days of the Hunger Games, she makes us understand just how far the Capitol’s cruelty evolved by the time of Katniss’s rebellion.

What Misses the Mark: Fantastic Beasts

Not all prequels land with the same impact. A prime example of a misstep is Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. While it started with an intriguing premise—a whimsical, creature-driven adventure set in the Harry Potter universe—it quickly lost focus, trying too hard to tie itself into the larger wizarding war in ways that felt forced. Rather than deepening the world in an organic way, it ended up convoluting established lore and introducing unnecessary contradictions.

What Collins does differently is that she doesn’t force connections for the sake of nostalgia. When she brings in familiar faces, it’s because they serve the story in a meaningful way, not just because they’re recognizable.

Why Sunrise on the Reaping Matters

With Sunrise on the Reaping, Collins isn’t just giving us a new perspective on Haymitch—she’s redefining our understanding of Panem, its victors, and the Hunger Games themselves. We already knew Haymitch as a broken, bitter mentor, but now, we get to see him in the moment that made him that way. More than that, we get to see how the seeds of rebellion were already beginning to take root long before Katniss ever picked up a bow.

The best prequels don’t just answer questions—they make you ask new ones. They make returning to the original story feel like a completely different experience. That’s what Collins has done so masterfully, and why her prequels stand as some of the strongest examples of how to do it right.