SPOILERS: This column contains potential spoilers for "Avatar: Fire and Ash.”
I once loved the Nicole Kidman monologue before movies at AMC. But it’s shorter now. There’s less magic, there’s fewer lights beginning to dim. Nicole Kidman’s passion-poetry for the big screen is now a husk. Thankfully, the Coke ad everyone loves is still there!
To the ants who run AMC, I have a proposal. If you’re going to chop Nicole Kidman into oblivion, go all the way. No half measures. To use up that time before movies like “Avatar: Fire and Ash,” I recommend putting in a warning with the following text:
The movie you’re about to watch is slop. We will place check-in marks every hour to ask whoever you’re watching with whether they want to leave.
I wish I got that warning before “Avatar: Fire and Ash.” And if I saw that second check-in two hours in, I would have voted yes on heading out.
I had loved the series since the first film came out when I was a kid, a love that grew when the second movie released during my freshman year of college. At a 10:30 p.m. showing of the latter, the guy next to me gave an affirmational “hm” every time a character said something confidently. He spoke my passion for this franchise into existence.
So I thought: what better way to cap off college than seeing the third with my friends? I had the spirit of Eywa within me as I entered the theater. But about an hour in, I realized there’s really nothing redeeming about this one, no excuses I can make to say it’s worth watching like the other two.
Somehow, “Avatar: slop and malarkey” isn’t even funny-bad. That’s not to say I didn’t chuckle a little bit; the Na’vi who looks like Lil Mosey dying (which does not impact the story) was hilarious, as was the blue cat people eventually saying “bro” after the 20th time.
Some characters’ reactions to life-changing events were good content as well. When this girl born out of immaculate conception (and some of her friends) meet the Pandora God, this life-changing experience doesn’t seem to affect their hearts at all. Instead, great Eywa just helps them in a battle.
Eventually throughout the movie, you’ll see the grandeur the “Avatar” series is known for. The visuals were excellent, especially in 3D, and the soundtrack was solid. For the first third, I was enamored by the worldbuilding — the wider society and networks of Pandora came to life.
But none of that matters because the story is non-existent. I had no reason to feel happy or sad or any other emotion about any of the characters.
I was hoping the franchise would continue its solid trajectory here, but we’ve now jettisoned into enshittification. Instead of solid emotional arcs or any character development, we have a movie that thinks inserting some aspect of moral grayness makes it automatically good.
The best storytelling comes from the heart in conflict with itself. But instead, I had to see family conflicts that don’t make sense and character arcs that go nowhere. There is no emotional payoff, ever.
It’s so disappointing to see potential wasted. There are so many existing science fiction stories that could be adapted so well to the big screen with this kind of budget. It’s not impossible to add depth to those, just ask Denis Villeneuve and his opus “Dune: Part Two.”
I’d really love to see such a leviathanic budget used on projects with actual meaning. If I were a billionaire, I’d try out “The Sparrow” by Mary Doria Russell, or “The King in Yellow” by Robert W. Chambers. Those stories have character and soul. This movie's character and soul appear to have come from a bunch of producers and writers saying, “let’s make another 'Avatar'!”
At points, it felt like a bad extended video game cutscene. One character gets kidnapped and then gets rescued. Replay that over and over again in your head, and you get “Avatar: Fire and Ash.”
Speaking of the title, there is indeed fire and ash, but not really that much. Mostly, it’s still water. I guess that’s fine, but it represents the lack of any development from the last movies and flashy branding to try and milk another billion dollars out of our world.
Also, I love how every modern blockbuster finds it impossible to signal the climax without a fistfight. How should audiences know when they’re supposed to feel the culmination of more than three precious hours without one?
When I don’t see hand-to-hand combat, I usually don’t comprehend if there's supposed to be a climactic emotional experience until the credits roll and I get confused.
There's raw emotion in those fisticuffs and primal grunts. Oh lord, I still feel it in my bones.
And I still feel the migraine the movie gave me throbbing in my head.
