I Sat Down and Watched Insurgent (2015)

Insurgent, the 2015 sequel to Divergent, arrives with the unenviable task of expanding upon a world that was already thinly constructed while advancing a story toward increasingly convoluted territory. Directed by Robert Schwentke (replacing Neil Burger from the first film), Insurgent represents both the best and worst tendencies of middle-chapter sequels: it's more visually ambitious and action-packed than its predecessor, yet it also feels narratively hollow, trading character development for spectacle and coherent world-building for escalating confusion. The result is a film that simultaneously improves upon and regresses from Divergent, creating a frustratingly inconsistent viewing experience.

Adaptation and Narrative Structure

Insurgent takes significant liberties with Veronica Roth's source material, much more so than the first film. The most notable invention is the mysterious box that drives the entire plot—a MacGuffin that doesn't exist in the novel but becomes the central focus of the film's narrative. This box, which can only be opened by a Divergent who passes simulations from all five factions, gives the film a clear structural goal that the book's more sprawling narrative lacked.

This change has both benefits and drawbacks. On the positive side, it provides a concrete objective that propels the story forward and builds toward a climactic revelation. The simulation sequences structured around each faction offer opportunities for visual creativity and symbolism. However, the box also simplifies the novel's more complex political maneuvering into a straightforward treasure hunt, reducing the story's sophistication in favor of a more conventional action-thriller framework.

The screenplay by Brian Duffield, Akiva Goldsman, and Mark Bomback struggles with pacing more severely than the first film. Insurgent rushes through its 119-minute runtime, rarely allowing scenes to breathe or characters to reflect on the traumatic events unfolding around them. The film opens immediately after the first movie's conclusion, with Tris, Four, Caleb, and Peter on the run. The absence of a cooling-off period means the film maintains a constant state of urgency that becomes exhausting rather than exhilarating.

Compared to Divergent's deliberate, training-focused structure, Insurgent feels scattered and reactive. Characters move from location to location—Amity, the factionless zones, Candor, Erudite headquarters—without establishing a strong sense of place or purpose beyond "we need to stay ahead of Jeanine." This episodic quality prevents the narrative from building momentum effectively.

Thematic Development

Insurgent attempts to deepen the first film's themes of identity and conformity by exploring guilt, sacrifice, and the consequences of violence. Tris's survivor's guilt over her parents' deaths and her role in Will's death should provide rich emotional material, and to the film's credit, it does attempt to center her psychological trauma.

The recurring nightmare sequences and Tris's reckless behavior demonstrate the film's awareness that trauma has consequences. Her willingness to sacrifice herself repeatedly stems from a death wish rooted in guilt—a darker, more complex emotional space than typical YA fare. However, the film's breakneck pacing undermines this psychological exploration. Tris's guilt is stated more than genuinely felt, with the film telling us she's struggling rather than allowing us to sit with her pain.

The theme of truth versus comfortable lies emerges through Jeanine's control of information and the eventual revelation in the box. The film suggests that society has been built on a fundamental deception, and that confronting uncomfortable truths is necessary for progress. Yet this theme remains underdeveloped because the film prioritizes action sequences over philosophical exploration. We never really understand what Jeanine fears about the truth, or why the faction system's ideology would be threatened by the box's contents.

Where Divergent at least attempted to explore what the faction system meant for individuals, Insurgent treats it primarily as window dressing for its plot mechanics. The factions feel less like coherent social groups and more like video game levels Tris must complete. The film loses sight of the fundamental question: what does it mean to be Divergent in a world that demands conformity?

Performance and Character Evolution

Shailene Woodley continues to be Insurgent's greatest asset, delivering a more complex and darker performance than in the first film. She effectively conveys Tris's grief, guilt, and self-destructive impulses, bringing emotional weight to scenes that might otherwise feel hollow. Woodley's physicality has also evolved—she moves with more confidence and aggression, embodying someone who has been transformed by violence and loss. Her best moments come in quieter scenes, particularly when confronting her guilt over killing Will, where her raw vulnerability cuts through the film's relentless action.

However, the script often works against Woodley's efforts. Tris's character arc feels repetitive: she's reckless, Four tells her she's being reckless, she does something reckless anyway, she survives through plot armor, and the cycle repeats. Her suicidal tendencies are introduced but never meaningfully addressed or resolved—they simply disappear when the plot no longer needs them. The film wants to explore Tris's trauma without actually allowing that trauma to have lasting consequences.

Theo James as Four receives more screen time and agency in Insurgent, which is both good and bad. James brings intensity to Four's protective instincts and his own family drama with Evelyn, but the character remains frustratingly reactive. Four spends most of the film trying to save Tris from herself, functioning more as a worried boyfriend than a fully realized character with his own arc. His reunion with his presumed-dead mother, Evelyn, should be emotionally devastating but is handled so quickly that it barely registers.

The supporting cast sees mixed results. Naomi Watts joins as Evelyn, leader of the factionless, and brings gravitas to her limited screen time, though her character's motivations remain murky. Octavia Spencer appears briefly as Johanna, leader of Amity, in a criminally underwritten role. Miles Teller returns as Peter and continues to be one of the franchise's highlights—his sardonic commentary and unpredictable loyalty make him far more interesting than most of the straightforwardly heroic characters.

Kate Winslet's Jeanine Matthews becomes more central in Insurgent, serving as the primary antagonist. Winslet commits fully to the role, playing Jeanine as coldly rational and convinced of her own righteousness. However, the character suffers from vague motivations. We understand she wants to eliminate Divergents and maintain control, but her deeper reasoning remains opaque. Why is she so threatened by what's in the box? What does she believe she's protecting? Winslet does her best with an underwritten villain who exists more to drive the plot than to represent a coherent ideological threat.

Ansel Elgort returns briefly as Caleb, and his betrayal of Tris is handled clumsily. The film rushes through his turn to Erudite, robbing it of emotional impact. Their confrontation feels perfunctory rather than devastating, a missed opportunity to explore sibling bonds and betrayal.

World-Building and Visual Expansion

Insurgent expands the scope of its world, showing us more of post-apocalyptic Chicago and exploring faction territories beyond Dauntless headquarters. The Amity compound offers visual contrast with its pastoral setting and warm lighting, while the factionless zones introduce grittier, more desperate environments. The production design attempts to make the world feel larger and more lived-in than the first film.

However, this expansion reveals rather than resolves the world-building problems established in Divergent. The faction system continues to make little practical sense. How does this society function economically? How do the factions interact day-to-day? What do most people actually do? The film treats these questions as irrelevant, but their absence makes the world feel increasingly artificial.

The revelation at the film's conclusion—that the faction system was an experiment and the city is being monitored from outside—should be earth-shattering. Instead, it feels like a narrative cheat, a way to explain away the world's illogical construction by declaring it was never meant to make sense. This twist, clearly setting up the next film, doesn't enhance our understanding of the world so much as acknowledge that there wasn't much there to understand in the first place.

The film's depiction of the factionless represents one of its better world-building elements. We finally see a significant population living outside the faction system, organized under Evelyn's leadership. These scenes suggest a more complex social structure than the neat five-faction model, hinting at the instability beneath the surface. Unfortunately, the film doesn't explore this enough, treating the factionless more as a plot resource than a fully realized social group.

Compared to Divergent, Insurgent feels simultaneously more expansive and less grounded. The first film, for all its flaws, established clear locations and took time to show us how its world operated. Insurgent moves too quickly, never settling long enough to make any location feel real or lived-in.

Technical Execution and Visual Style

Robert Schwentke's direction represents a significant stylistic shift from Neil Burger's approach in the first film. Schwentke, known for action films like RED, brings more kinetic energy and visual flair to Insurgent. The action sequences are more ambitious and better choreographed, with the attack on the Candor compound and the climactic Erudite headquarters assault providing genuinely exciting moments.

The film's greatest technical achievement is its simulation sequences. Each faction-based simulation offers distinct visual aesthetics: the Amity simulation features surreal, burning landscapes; the Erudite simulation takes place in a stark, geometric space; the Candor simulation plays with mirrors and reflections. These sequences allow the film to break free from its drab, post-apocalyptic setting and explore more stylized, symbolic imagery. The effects work here is impressive, particularly the sequence where Tris fights herself, which uses visual effects to create genuinely unsettling imagery.

However, Schwentke's preference for handheld cameras and quick cutting sometimes works against the film. Action scenes that should be clear and impactful become choppy and hard to follow. The shaky-cam aesthetic, presumably meant to create immediacy and intensity, often just creates confusion. The film can't decide whether it wants to be a grounded, gritty thriller or a stylized sci-fi spectacle, resulting in an inconsistent visual tone.

The cinematography by Florian Ballhaus is more ambitious than the first film's work, with bolder color grading and more dynamic camera movements. The simulation sequences, in particular, showcase creative lighting and composition. However, the real-world sequences still suffer from the flat, television-quality look that plagued Divergent. The post-apocalyptic Chicago setting rarely feels dangerous or lived-in, instead appearing like a clean movie set with some CGI ruins in the background.

The pacing issues mentioned earlier severely impact the film's rhythm. Insurgent moves at a relentless pace that allows for little character development or emotional processing. Major events—reunions, betrayals, deaths—happen and are immediately pushed aside for the next plot development. The film seems terrified of boring its audience, but the constant forward momentum becomes monotonous. A well-placed quiet moment would have provided valuable contrast and emotional weight.

Joseph Trapanese's score attempts to create a more distinctive sonic identity than Junkie XL's work on the first film. The music incorporates electronic elements with orchestral arrangements, creating a hybrid sound that fits the film's blend of sci-fi and action. However, like the first film, no themes prove particularly memorable. The score does its job in the moment but leaves no lasting impression.

Franchise Context and Sequel Dynamics

Insurgent suffers acutely from "middle chapter syndrome"—the tendency for franchise installments to serve primarily as bridges between beginning and end rather than satisfying stories in their own right. The film opens in the immediate aftermath of the first movie and ends on a cliffhanger that sets up the next installment, leaving little room for a complete narrative arc.

This problem plagued many YA adaptations of the era. The decision to split finale novels into two films (a trend The Hunger Games popularized and which Divergent would follow with Allegiant) meant middle installments had to stretch their narratives and preserve major revelations for later. Insurgent feels like it's treading water, providing action and incident without meaningful progression.

Compared to other successful franchise sequels, Insurgent fails to justify its existence beyond commercial obligation. The Hunger Games: Catching Fire expanded its world while deepening its themes and character relationships. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets told a complete story while building toward larger series arcs. Insurgent, by contrast, feels primarily like setup, a collection of scenes designed to position pieces for the next film rather than tell its own compelling story.

Within the YA dystopian landscape of 2015, Insurgent also faced stiffer competition than *Divergent* had in 2014. The Hunger Games: Mockingjay - Part 1 had released months earlier, and while that film also suffered from middle-chapter problems, it at least offered sophisticated political commentary and Jennifer Lawrence's powerhouse performance. The Maze Runner: Scorch Trials would release later in 2015, offering similar action-heavy thrills. Insurgent struggled to distinguish itself in an increasingly crowded and fatiguing genre.

The film's box office performance reflected this franchise fatigue. While Insurgent was profitable, it earned less than Divergent domestically, a concerning trend for a sequel that should theoretically build on its predecessor's audience. The diminishing returns suggested audiences were losing interest in the franchise, a problem that would worsen with Allegiant.

Strengths Worth Acknowledging

Despite its numerous flaws, Insurgent deserves credit for several accomplishments. The simulation sequences represent a significant creative achievement, offering visual variety and symbolic depth rare in blockbuster filmmaking. These scenes allow the film to explore Tris's psychology in visceral, imaginative ways, and they're consistently the most engaging parts of the movie.

Shailene Woodley's continued commitment to the role elevates the entire production. She brings authenticity and emotional depth to material that doesn't always deserve it, grounding the increasingly fantastical plot in genuine human feeling. Her chemistry with Theo James has also improved—while their romance still feels somewhat obligatory, there's more warmth and believability in their interactions.

The film's willingness to show its protagonist as genuinely damaged and self-destructive, even if it doesn't fully explore these elements, represents a step toward more mature storytelling than typical YA fare. Tris's guilt-driven recklessness and death wish are dark psychological territory, and the film deserves acknowledgment for not completely sanitizing its heroine's trauma.

The action sequences, while sometimes confusingly edited, demonstrate real ambition and scale. The attack on Candor headquarters and the climactic assault on Erudite provide genuine thrills, with competent stunt work and effects creating exciting set pieces. Schwentke's action direction, when it works, brings energy and dynamism that the first film lacked.

Miles Teller's Peter continues to be a highlight, providing moral ambiguity and sardonic humor that most other characters lack. His unpredictability and willingness to serve whoever offers the best deal make him far more interesting than the clearly delineated heroes and villains surrounding him.

Critical Shortcomings

The film's problems, unfortunately, outweigh its successes. The narrative coherence issues are severe—motivations remain unclear, character decisions feel arbitrary, and the plot lurches from scene to scene without strong causal connections. Why does Tris turn herself in to Jeanine when she could have escaped? Because the plot requires her to be in the simulation chair. Why does Peter help them escape at the end? Because the film needs someone to facilitate their exit. These choices serve narrative convenience rather than character logic.

The world-building continues to crumble under scrutiny. The faction system, already strained in the first film, feels nearly meaningless in Insurgent. With open warfare between factions and the factionless seizing power, the social structure has essentially collapsed, yet characters continue to identify primarily by faction as if it still matters. The film can't decide whether the faction system is a rigid social order or a loose affiliation, treating it as whichever is most convenient for the plot.

The dialogue often veers into cliché, with characters speaking in fortune cookie wisdom and young adult novel platitudes. "I'm not going to fight them. I'm going to fight for us" sounds profound in the moment but means essentially nothing. The film lacks the sharp, witty writing that elevates the best YA adaptations, instead settling for generic inspirational speech-making.

The editing, particularly in action sequences, undermines the film's attempts at visual spectacle. Quick cuts and shaky cameras that should create excitement instead create confusion. Several potentially strong action moments are rendered nearly incomprehensible by frantic editing choices.

Perhaps most frustratingly, Insurgent wastes its talented cast. Kate Winslet, Naomi Watts, Octavia Spencer, and Jai Courtney are all capable actors given little to work with. Their characters exist to serve plot functions rather than as fully realized people with understandable motivations and arcs.

Comparison to Its Predecessor

Insurgent both improves upon and regresses from Divergent in various ways. The action is more ambitious and visually creative, particularly in the simulation sequences. The film moves faster and feels less repetitive than the training-heavy first installment. Shailene Woodley's performance shows growth, playing a more damaged and complex version of Tris.

However, what *Insurgent* gains in spectacle, it loses in coherence and character development. Divergent, for all its flaws, took time to establish its world, develop relationships, and build toward its conflicts. Insurgent assumes we're already invested and focuses on delivering action and plot twists rather than earning our emotional engagement. The first film felt like a complete story; the sequel feels like a two-hour trailer for the next installment.

The tonal shift between films is also jarring. Divergent had a young adult coming-of-age quality, focusing on self-discovery and empowerment. Insurgent is darker and more violent, dealing with trauma and warfare, but it hasn't matured in its storytelling sophistication to match this tonal shift. It wants the grittiness without the depth, resulting in a film that feels superficially edgy without genuine substance.

The change in directors is clearly visible. Where Neil Burger brought workmanlike competence to Divergent, Robert Schwentke brings more visual ambition but less narrative discipline. The first film was too slow and too safe; the sequel is too fast and too scattered. Neither finds the proper balance.

Conclusion

Insurgent is a sequel that exemplifies the struggles of franchise filmmaking in the young adult dystopian boom. It's a film caught between multiple impulses—wanting to be a complete story while setting up future installments, aiming for depth while prioritizing action, attempting to expand its world while revealing that world was never deeply conceived to begin with.

The film works best in isolated moments: a striking simulation sequence, a raw emotional beat from Woodley, an exciting action set piece. But these moments never coalesce into a satisfying whole. The narrative lacks coherence, the world-building remains frustratingly shallow, and the thematic exploration promises depth it never delivers.

For devoted fans of the franchise, Insurgent provides enough spectacle and forward momentum to maintain interest. Shailene Woodley's committed performance and the visually impressive simulation sequences offer genuine entertainment value. Those invested in Tris's journey will find enough here to justify the watch, even if the film never reaches the heights it aspires to.

For general audiences or those hoping the franchise would evolve and improve, Insurgent disappoints. It's a film that seems aware of its predecessor's problems but solves them by doubling down on action and spectacle rather than addressing fundamental issues of world-building, character development, and thematic coherence. It mistakes busier for better, confusing frenetic pacing with forward momentum.

Insurgent is neither terrible nor good—it exists in that frustrating middle ground of mediocrity, competent enough to avoid outright failure but lacking the vision or execution to achieve excellence. It's a sequel that serves its franchise obligations without ever justifying why this particular story needed to be told, a middle chapter that points toward a conclusion without offering much worth experiencing in the moment.

In the landscape of YA dystopian sequels, Insurgent stands as a cautionary tale about the dangers of prioritizing franchise-building over storytelling, of mistaking visual ambition for narrative depth, and of forgetting that even action-heavy blockbusters need coherent worlds, believable characters, and meaningful themes to truly resonate. It's a film that diverged from its predecessor without finding a better path forward.