The "Avatar" chapters have generally renewed their interest to the masses based on which exciting new locale and which new culture whichever film opts to explore.
Following that dance, "Fire and Ash" introduces yet another Na'Vi clan, this one hailing from the scorched plains under the shadow of an erupted volcano. But their biome is decidedly less spectacular than the lush jungles of the Omaticaya or the rich coral reefs where the Metkayina dive. Between the ashen grounds of the volcano clan and the metallic fortress of the humans, this is comfortably the most monochromatic of the three Avatar films. And yet, Avatar: Fire and Ash is no less gripping for it.
And this is where the internet really starts to reckon with what us fans of the franchise have always kind of known: that the many screensavers offered by the Avatar world ... they have been nice. But these films would have never made the impact they have if they did not respond to something inside of us that we know to be true, something we know to transcend culture or time.
Some months after the death of their oldest son, the Sulley family is still in the thick of their grief. (Though, these lucky ducks don't seem even moderately consoled in the knowledge that at least Pandora heaven comes with visiting hours.) But a vicious enemy, an aggressive Na'Vi clan led by the merciless Varang, intercepts both the Sulley clan as well as Colonel Quaritch, threatening to unleash a whole new storm of violence upon the planet. And as new developments in the world of Pandora turn the human child, Spider, into the human forces' number one target, Jake and Neytiri will have to determine once and for all exactly how they define family.
This adventure offers some fun new set pieces, like the air blimps of the nomadic air-people, as well as some capital action playgrounds. But trying to scout out which new battlefield the camera is scanning for runs the risk of distracting from the real visual marvels of the film.
Cameron has long maintained that the motion-capture rendering of the Na'Vi is nothing more than a thin interface for the performance that comes directly from the human actors. This film has done the most to prove Cameron's thesis. The blue transformation has always been what I'd call lifelike, but the human piece of that equation is as bright as ever in this film. I'll give a specific shoutout to newcomer Oona Chaplin as the star player this round. Her slick savagery builds the case for Varang as one of the most delicious sci-fi villains in film history. I don't know whether that's the technology advancing or the actors reaching new levels with their character.
Perhaps it's just easier for all these performances to rise to the surface in the most character-driven Avatar film yet. Planet-wide repercussions ripple from the decisions the Sulley family makes, but the decisions themselves hang mostly on what it means for the people they care for most, and the profound sense of belonging and devastation that can emerge when you see yourself as belonging to something bigger than yourself. Imagine Robert Redford's Ordinary People, but with a lot more gunships and bioluminescent trees. Every player feels like a main character here. Everyone follows their own track to discovery, and you watch these characters cross their respective finish lines with something a lot like pride.
Yet the fire of violence and the need to deliver retribution upon those who have wronged you is also an agent in the heroes' self-actualizing. In this way, the heroes have more in common with Varang than the film seems interested in discussing. Theirs is a more reactive kind of violence, emerging purely out of the instinct to protect your own after someone else throws the first punch, which is perhaps how Cameron reconciles it with the pacificist credo of something like T2, but I'm still unresolved about whether or not the film reconciles this responsibly.
And where "The Way of Water" leaned just a little too much on Jake's narration, parts of "Fire and Ash" require a bit more explanation than the film affords them, both as it relates to character motivations and the supernatural phenomena that unfold. Jake resists joining up with old dragon-mount, Toruk, because he doesn't want to give into his bloodlust ... and yet he is actively trying to coax the Metkayina clan into arming themselves with human weapons.
This is most apparent in the last five or so minutes where the movie phones in some falling action, as though exhausted by its own rigorous third act that it just didn't feel like crossing the t's and dotting the i's. Perhaps it is Cameron's intention to clarify these things in follow-up installments, or perhaps that was a collision between filmmaker and studio. "Alright, Jim. You can have 3 hours and 17 minutes, but not one second more!"
The world of the Avatar saga is scorched by rage and despair. It is also a world full of joy. A world where we watch families forming in real time. A world where heroes demand in front of their peers that the humanity and dignity of their friends be recognized. A world where choosing love even when it doesn't make sense can bring unimaginable restoration to a land and a soul out of balance.
Three movies in, and the world of Pandora continues to surprise and heal.
--The Professor
Comments
Post a Comment