Shailene Woodley's Tris is a character forever in an existential crisis. Her vulnerability shimmers on her face. She says "Everybody who has come close to me has either died or been hurt." The time she completely breaks down, after telling her truths under the influence of a serum, is a time where, strangely, she shows her greatest strength: her fragility. Because she can combine it with her determination, and transcend her self-doubt.
Tris carries the guilt of her mother's death, that of her father and of personally killing a dear friend. For someone like this, the choice to give oneself up for any eventuality is easy. For her humaneness would ensure her survival - if not physically, then as the idea of her.
But as humans we can scarcely think so far ahead. We can only be generous, humane and good. And let the Universe take care of us.
In this outstanding adaptation of a mediocre novel, interpretations of 'the greater good' abound. Questions of slotting human beings into definitions of their primary strengths are asked. And the fight ensues.
In a society which is demarcated into Dauntless, Amity, Candor, Abnegation and Erudite, as per a person's choice of what her strengths are, the lines have to blur. Someone has to think that they are brighter, better, more entitled to power. Humans desire peace but abhor nature's piecemeal distribution of resources. Hence trouble is forever the compatriot of peace.
The film explodes even as its heroine implodes. It sears in it's ambition, in it's portrayal of a city getting destroyed as it's societies disintegrate. And it soars in scenes which take your breath away. And in front of your eyes you see a wisp of a girl turn into a peerless heroine.