After three Avatar movies, it's time to retire the discussion about this franchise's questionable cultural footprint. It has one, being the most successful film series to not have one. The debate exists because it hasn't been memed to death or escaped into normie vernacular. Despite the imagination and hard work, there's something that doesn't feel as original as you'd think that effort would produce. In Avatar Fire and Ash, that sensation is magnified.
Thrilling and sumptuous, James Cameron's latest is probably the best to date with painstaking world building and stunning imagery. It also feels too often like a remake with characters and conflicts fans may find repetitive. One year after The Way of Water, the Sully struggle with Netam's death. Jake and Niri's resentment fers, driving a wedge between them and their adopted human son, Spider. Realizing Spider's needs require more resources and watching Niti grow hateful, Jake mounts a family trip to drop him off with a human enclave loyal to the indigenous population.
But after an attack by Una Chaplain's Varang and the ruthless Manguan, the Sullies find themselves in limbo. Worse, Miles Quic, once again played by Steven Lang, forges a partnership with Vang to eliminate the Sullies once and for all. Fire and Ash counts as Cameron's 10th film, and he's proven it's a bad idea to bet against his instincts. What's odd is that narratively, it feels less like a standalone chapter than a season of prestige television.
Cameron seems to believe the series characters are all equally interesting. Consequently, the film repeats dynamics from The Way of Water. Quoric and his marines stopped being interesting half a film ago and Jake's impulse to treat his family like a military unit is equally tiresome. The movie throws them together to diminishing returns.
Despite the Sully's intention to move on, much of the story takes place in locations audiences have seen before. The climactic battle is bigger, but much the same. Una Chaplan's performance as the merciless Farang is the film's most memorable. You feel the character's rage and feral sensuality. She makes a more interesting partner for Cororic than he deserves.
But the former soldier's perspective never changes despite intimate relationships with the natives. After three films, many characters aren't as interesting as when Cameron used broad strokes to convince audiences to buy in. Jake's gruff treatment of Loak hasn't evolved. Meanwhile, the writers go all-in on Spider. Despite Jack Champion's commitment, he's placed in situations to make the same decision he already definitively did regarding his allegiance.
Again, Cameron conceives sequences with such imagination, you can't help but be gobsmacked. Unlike filmmakers capitulating to studio number crunchers, he seems truly unrestrained. A prison breakout sequence stands among the best action scenes in his filmography.
Ultimately, the juxtaposition between Braver film and less ambitious storytelling may leave audiences underwhelmed. Too much of the plot rehashes developments from previous films. And yet, the visual creativity exerts an irresistible pull. For better or worse, this chapter provides a satisfying conclusion to the saga.
The irony of being even mildly disappointed by this film, probably the best made of all three, is that I'd gladly watch another. Maybe that's Avatar's true impact. Even when you're not sure how much you like the parts, the series grips you in such a powerful hold that you'll go along for the ride as long as it lasts.