By many excited, breathless accounts, James Cameron has sparked a revolution in filmmaking with his use of motion-capture technology, his seamless blend of live action with CGI and, of course, that magical third dimension. Were we to peek behind the curtains, we could certainly marvel at the tools and techniques that allow actors to strut and emote, then stand back as digital personas come to life with their performances. Is it churlish, however, to point out that the end result is really just the logical culmination of work done on other special-effects bonanzas like, say, George Lucas and his Star Wars prequel trilogy? Certainly 3D has also been a mature format for some time now, however confined to animated films – “Monster House” marks the first film, for me, that announced 3D’s evolutionary leap away from cheap pokes in the eye. Let’s say this: Avatar represents, if not an outright revolution, then at least the fully-ripened climax to a cinematic paradigm shift that sees humans, computers, digital and 3D projection technology fully integrated together in the first live-action film not rated G or PG. That Pandora looks as real as anything else exemplifies how Cameron has achieved that holy grail of CGI, namely, a realism that doesn’t provoke the brain into shrieking with disbelief.
Still, the biggest impression doesn’t come from sitting in the theatre with glasses on as Avatar booms and awes with incredible sights, quick pacing, and Cameron’s flair for action. The wonder comes in the concept and execution of Pandora itself, the alien planet under siege by humans intent on strip-mining for a mineral suitably named Unobtainium. Cameron and company serve up a menagerie of innovative landscapes and creatures made all the more delightful for their fit within an imaginatively conceived and cohesive ecosystem. The central conceit of Pandoran life rests in how all creatures great and small are literally connected to one another in one of the most clever and fascinating ideas put to the screen. While it may offend the Vatican and other religious folk to consider how Pandora’s ecological nature leads to a definable spiritual practice in the film, that the Na’vi’s nature-based religion is actually rooted in something tangible, measurable, and open to verifiable experience is a refreshing change of pace from the typical mystery-mongering religions of both reality and fiction.
There’s much ado, of course, over the concept of the avatars — bodies that can be inhabited by other minds and controlled remotely. The idea is fascinating; having a wheelchair-bound veteran as one such avatar adds a potent dimension to the concept – except for the fact that the film only superficially dwells on what it means or how it feels. Of course Sam Worthington zips around in his Na’vi body, unbound by the restrictions of his wounded human body, and we feel a twinge on learning that the military won’t pay to have his human legs restored. But the relationship between the military and injured veterans is but one of many issues that would have added drama to the characters had they been explored. And, of course, the inevitable identity crisis comes to hit Worthington’s marine. But so what? These get lost in the plot’s mechanized unfolding, of which it can be said that it doesn’t take Robert Downey Jr.’s Holmes to figure out how Cameron will take us from set-up to climactic battle. All it takes is knowing the following: a) a marine is sent to gather pre-assault intelligence about natives who are unjustly under siege by greedy corporate interests; b) his mentor in the ways of the nature-loving population is a beautiful female; c) said female is none other than the Chief’s daughter, performed by Zoe Saldana. Here, then, is another reason to be impressed: 2 hours and 40 minutes in length and Avatar refuses to offer anything other than the blunt force message that exploiting natives is bad and nature is good.
It’s a case of technology and design, indistinguishable from magic, being unable to rescue Avatar from joining Lord of the Rings in the creation of beautiful, brave new worlds for the purpose of blowing them up. But for all that Tolkien’s epic is a plodding tale of warfare, the man at least knew how to create engaging characters, especially when helped along by Peter Jackson. Aragorn, Frodo, the Ents – these are memorable figures whose personal dramas and colourful personalities are often compelling even when the overarching narrative they inhabit is not. Avatar, in contrast to Cameron’s past efforts, has no such characters. The film’s hero, a marine played with a good ol’ boy charm by Sam Worthington, is likeable, simple, and obedient to the script’s demands. The same goes for other actors, including Sigourney Weaver as the prickly but compassionate leader of science-studying Pandora and Michelle Rodriguez in a reprise of Cameron’s tough-but-tenderhearted Latina marine from Aliens. Even Stephen Lang, in the film’s chewiest role, that of a Colonel ready to pacify the natives with guns blazing and bombs bursting, amounts to little more than Yosemite Sam with an arsenal Tom Clancy readers could drool over.
While Avatar is raking in money and awards — the Oscars are looming – what rankles and disappoints is that in the collective madness of Avatar-worship, a cardinal rule has been forgotten: cinematic wizardry is meant to serve the story, not the other way around. For all the dazzle of alien creatures and landscapes, for all the technological fetishism of the industrial combat armours and airships, Avatar is at best a missed opportunity to tell a tale as epic as its production. The anti-colonial/anti-imperial outrage, understandable and commendable in certain political quarters, is as simplistic and mundane as pitting the evil imperialist humans against the pure and innocent Na’vi — so pure and innocent that humans have to resort to inhabiting Na’vi bodies to achieve any sort of contact. (Xenophobia, it seems, is okay for some but not for all.) Some even see an anti-militaristic message in the film, but one has to wonder how anti-military a film can be when violence is the ultimate arbiter of conflict. Much like Iron Man, in which Tony Stark’s unintentionally ironic response to the harmful consequences of Stark Industries’ weapons manufacturing efforts is to create yet another weapon, Avatar completely discounts diplomatic or even non-violent resolutions. Cameron’s manipulative streak, nurtured by his shameless previous film Titanic, here becomes evident; the distinctions between right and wrong are rigged to elicit quick, reflexive emotional reactions. The Na’vi, a race of blue-skinned, vaguely feline humanoids more interesting for their physiology than their culture, are calculated to please and stimulate our senses, which makes it all the easier to take their side against irredeemably bad humans. How much braver would it have been to feature truly alien, inscrutable creatures on the receiving end of human brutality? Would audiences have so willingly rooted for the aesthetic and inhumanness of, say, insects instead of a Disneyfied distillation of National Geographic features? The question itself is fodder for a fascinating discussion, but not in this movie. Avatar, exciting on a superficial level, is strictly an experience without content. It remains to Cameron’s promised sequels to truly deliver on the technology’s storytelling promise.
Entertainment: * (out of two)
Craft: * (out of two)
Avatar. Written and directed by James Cameron. Starring Sam Worthington, Zoe Saldana, Sigourney Weaver, Stephen Lang, Giovanni Ribisi, Michelle Rodriguez. 163 minutes. Rated PG-13 (for intense epic battle sequences and warfare, sensuality, language and some smoking).
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