Image: 20th Century Studios.

In support of his latest 400-million-dollar blockbuster, filmmaker James Cameron told The Hollywood Reporter that his entire career has focused on answering cinema’s “toughest, most fulfilling artistic problem,” in a way that will also, “appeal to a mass audience.” Over forty years this approach has led to Cameron pioneering or refining cinematic technology, from Terminator 2’s use of computer-generated imagery, to Titanic’s re-creation of historic events, Avatar’s revolutionary approach to motion capture and 3D technology, and Avatar: The Way of Water’s forays into higher frame rates. As a result, Cameron’s filmography includes three of the four highest grossing films of all time. Yet, as impressive and, at times, admirable as the director’s achievements are, this emphasis on the technology of filmmaking seems to have diminished Cameron’s capacity for compelling or even cohesive storytelling. He’s become so obsessed with making each film the most cutting edge cinematic experience possible that he’s forgotten the basic elements of cinema itself.

First, let’s get the most obvious thing out of the way: on a whole, Avatar: Fire & Ash looks amazing. Wētā FX are at the absolute top of their game, flawlessly capturing the movement and expression of each character. It’s a testament to the entire effects team that Fire & Ash doesn’t feel like it should be categorized as an animated film despite 90% of its three-and-a-quarter hours being comprised of CGI. Looking at this year, for example, placing Fire & Ash as an animated feature alongside K-Pop Demon Hunters, Zootopia 2, and Lost in Starlight feels like an insult to the realism that Avatar strives for. Yet to not categorize Fire & Ash as animation demeans the extraordinary work of the animators and artists who provide the main and, at times, only appeal of this entire franchise. More than Cameron, it’s Wētā FX, and each and every animator working on this film that are responsible for the best parts, while it’s Cameron and his collaborators that are wholly responsible for the film’s failings. Fire & Ash once again proves that the greatest 3D technology in history can’t bring depth to one-sided characters and a shallow narrative.

The Na’vi look as striking as ever in ‘Fire & Ash.’
Image: 20th Century Studios.

It also needs to be said that some of my criticism of this film might be the result of watching it in standard form rather than the full, immersive experience that Cameron clearly intends. Between proximity, screening times, and the fact that Way of Water’s use of blurred, three-dimensional foreground objects made my brain hurt, Fire & Ash simply wasn’t worth the effort of seeing in its preferred form. It doesn’t help that movie tickets prices are increasing, even before adding the extra cost of 3D, 4K, Dolby sound, and IMAX. As such, many of Fire & Ash’s flaws became obvious, even in its effects. Occasional frame rate jiggers particularly stand out among the overly smoothed motion capture. Most of all, without the added depth of 3D, the lack of shadow flattens the entire film. This is most obvious in scenes with primarily human characters, where the bright lighting and motion smoothing make Fire & Ash look less like a film created for IMAX and more like a show created for streaming. It is truly, truly disappointing that a film this beautiful, with this much effort and money devoted to its effects, ends up looking like a disposable Netflix series.

For all its illusion of depth, ‘Fire & Ash’ leaves its characters flat.
Image: 20th Century Studios.

Speaking of a disposable series, sixteen years after the original Avatar there isn’t much thrust left in the franchise. Sure, Pandora is still beautiful, and Fire & Ash proves that there remains plenty to explore of its world, but none of it feels essential. Further, this second installment in what was reportedly planned as three sequels to the original, spends far too much of its time giving perfunctory closure to events of the previous film, leaving the narrative both over-explained and under-developed. The dramatic death at the end of Way of Water is addressed only twice, one them being the opening sequence, a minutes-long dream sequence of aerial acrobatics meant to add drama but ultimately serving as 3D IMAX eye candy and a quick dismissal of any emotional impact. Despite taking place near enough to the previous film that Ronal (Kate Winslet), wife of the chief of the water Na’vi, is still pregnant, the Sully family’s tragedy is already all but forgotten.

The dialog, credited to Cameron and co-screenwriters Rick Jaffa, and Amanda Silver, is bad.

Spider (Jake Champion), already tiresome from the previous film, frequently uses 21^st Century American insults in a setting that is far from either of those things. Repetition of family mantras and statements of vague, pseudo-profundity attempt to deepen mundane moments. Meanwhile, dude-bro exchanges wring all power from otherwise impactful scenes. One of the most meaningful events, an element that had been built up through four hours of screentime, is dismissed as “Yeah, I’m good on the whole breathing thing” before becoming the main motivation of the entire narrative. This complete lack of conviction demonstrates just how little Fire & Ash cares about story as anything more than a reason for fight scenes and explosions. Granted those fights and explosions are spectacular, but without emotional stakes the audience is just watching the cartoon violence.

It’s fitting that a character who wants so badly to be incorporated into a culture he has no right to claim has the most notorious hairstyle in the history of cultural misappropriation.
Image: 20th Century Studios.

To its credit, Fire & Ash does have an interesting narrative, relative to the Avatar series. Looking at the basic plots of the previous films: Avatar featured Jake Sully seeking to integrate himself into the native culture by successfully bonding with the largest beast among the local fauna before a big fight against the humans, while Way of Water featured the Sully family seeking to integrate themselves into the native culture by Jake successfully bonding with the largest beast among the local fauna before a big fight against the humans. This time, yet another new culture is introduced, although the scope of the film makes it unclear if this is an entire society among the Na’vi or just a single tribe, but at least we don’t have to sit through Sully once again getting the white savior/Muad’Dib treatment with yet another group of proxies for indigenous peoples. He’s still just as much of a gun-touting, super-competent Marine stand-in, but at least this time he isn’t automatically better at everything than the natives are.

Get used to Neytiri making this expression. She does it a lot.
Image: 20th Century Studios.

For their parts, the performers in Fire & Ash do an excellent job. Whereas most of the human cast speaks in flat tones or single expressions, the Na’vi display a full range of emotion through body language, facial movements, and voice. Although not convincing in dramatic scenes, Champion sells Spider’s physicality very well, leaping about like a little kid trying to keep up with his older, stronger siblings. Grating as Spider can be, Fire & Ash places him and Kiri (Sigourney Weaver) as the focus of its narrative, using them as the catalysts for world building more than character progression. The rest of the characters are given what can pass for arcs in the most basic sense: they start with one idea and end with another. Once again the least attention is given to Neytiri (Zoe Saldana) whose role consists of shouting, grunting, growling, and fighting her obvious female rival. She also goes full racist, for a few minutes of screentime, before making the change which completes her requisite character arc.

This need to give every character at least the pretext of a story contributes to Fire & Ash feeling excessively lengthy. Avatar films have always been long, but between the quick resolution of any lingering drama, introduction of yet another set of new creatures, check-ins with previous creatures, establishment of the film’s individual story, world-building for a world that should already be built and has since lost its sense of wonder, sequences thrown in for no reason other than to look good in 3D, and several smaller action sequences leading up to the massive climax full of painstakingly rendered graphics and explosions, Fire & Ash feels like too much movie.

It’s not Sigourney Weaver’s fault that her teenage character sounds like a 70-year-old woman.
Image: 20th Century Studios.

In his interview with The Hollywood Reporter James Cameron spoke of answering a question about the state of cinema:

“We may find that the release of Avatar 3 proves how diminished the cinematic experience is these days, or we may find it proves the case that it’s as strong as it ever was — but only for certain types of films.”

With Fire & Ash, beautiful as it is, Cameron makes it clear that, for him, the “cinematic experience” is digital characters, explosions, paper-thin allegories, and all of the latest and most expensive theater accoutrements. And that’s precisely why Fire & Ash simply doesn’t work as a film. Its elements of cinema – character, performance, screenwriting, tension, emotion, nuance, resonance – aren’t strong enough to support themselves without the crutch of theater gimmicks. Cameron wants to prove that cinema still works, but only for blockbusters. He wants to prove the “cinematic experience” is still viable. For him.

If Cameron and other filmmakers really want to answer the toughest, most artistically fulfilling problem currently facing cinema, maybe it’s time to stop making 400-million dollar tech demonstrations. Use that love, those resources, that talent, to make art that resonates in the viewer. That questions our understanding of ourselves and our society. That sparks joy or outrage. Not every film needs to be part of a ten-digit franchise. They just need to be human.

At least until AI replaces us all.

Rating: 3 / 5