True confession: I don’t really like screenings. Full of poker-faced critics who hardly ever clap at the end. There is nothing like an audience full of movie lovers with a tub of popcorn teetering on their laps, awkward 3-D glasses affixed to their faces, an imagination waiting to be turned on. That is the shared experience for many of us back when we all used to go to the movies.
One of the greatest pleasures I’ve experienced this year was watching people on TikTok watch Elvis. Then I watched them watch The White Lotus: Season 2. Both of these awakened and engaged people from all over the country who kept diving in and out of them, acting them out, reinterpreting them and celebrating them. It felt a bit like what entertainment is supposed to be. It is supposed to unite us under one roof, no matter what, because storytelling is such an essential component to our species.
When I was a kid and fell in love with going to the movies, whether the actual movie theater or the drive-in, I was never then given an appointed “council” of critics to tell me what I should think about a movie. A score or a ranking that decides a movie’s worth. Maybe it didn’t mean anything way back when. But now it has become a major buzzkill. It isn’t their fault — they have to make a living too. But sometimes I find myself loving the moment after I see the movie and dreading the reviews.
I experienced this the first time with Empire of Light coming out of Telluride. I still believe that it was hit severely because it was ear-marked as a potential “Oscar frontrunner.” When it comes to the hierarchy of the online jungle, film critics have positioned themselves to be a notch or two above “Oscar bloggers.” Heck, I used to see it that way too until it all became one giant hive mind otherwise known as Film Twitter. Is there even a difference anymore?
Sure, there are still some old school critics who are clinging to their spot in the food chain, but the majority are of the “anyone can cook” variety. Thus, I’m not sure why they are given any sort of special status compared to anyone else. Either way, once they kill a movie dead, that’s that. I have found myself leaning more on audience ratings, at least when it comes to whether or not I will want to watch a movie, or pay to see one.
I am lucky that I don’t have to pay to see movies. They’re hand-delivered to us in the blogging and film criticism world. We get them on screeners, we are invited to screenings, and we even get a link now and then to watch them online. It’s a sweet life. But maybe it’s too sweet. Maybe having to pay for something changes how you interface with it. I still pay to see movies now because I like seeing them with real audiences who also paid to see them. They almost always lean in, love the movie more, and the experience overall is more enjoyable.
Although I haven’t paid to see Avatar: The Way of Water, I will definitely be paying to see it again some time in the near future. That is the kind of movie you pay to see. You pay to take the ride because you know there isn’t anything like it, not even the first Avatar. All of the same complaints about the story are present in the new one, although James Cameron is working with two co-writers this time. Rick Jaffa and Amanda Silver — both from Mulan and the Rise of the Planet of the Apes series. Silver also wrote one of my favorite screenplays for the Hand That Rocks the Cradle.
Visually, this film ups the ante for a generation that already has immersive virtual reality games and meta spaces to disappear inside, and in fact came of age dwelling in that kind of world. Video games are more advanced now technically and animation has reached new heights. But this is different. The experience of seeing this film is hard to explain. It does feel like you’ve escaped into a completely different reality: one you can reach out and touch, with water you can almost smell and faces that look real.
The first Avatar came close to this. What you were left with when the visuals weren’t there was kind of a simplistic story about colonizers. That would be true about this Avatar were it not for the film’s central driving themes, not just about the strength of family, but also about Cameron’s commitment to preserving the natural world, specifically our wildlife. It’s easy to be cynical about this and other subjects since (most) movies are nothing but activism now, but one of the central plots of this film is the bond between a troubled teenager and an exiled whale.
It’s one of these things that either matters to you or it doesn’t. If it does, you might be greatly moved by how that particularly unfolds. I certainly was.
Jim Cameron has made his best film to date with Avatar: The Way of Water. It’s a love letter to what he loves most: the art of movie making, the strength of family, the love of mothers, and protecting vulnerable species from extinction. There are worse ways to spend one’s time than three hours immersed in this unbelievable achievement that, frankly, makes me proud to be part of a species that produce filmmakers like Cameron who can make movies like that.
What people always say about Jim Cameron movies is that they can be both the best and worst films ever made in one. That’s true about Titanic and certainly the first Avatar. With this film, however, I think he has evolved as a storyteller. Whatever flaws there may be in the script are easily overcome by the experience of watching the film. Movies have much pain and grief to offer audiences. Too few of them have what audiences need in times like these. We need to be rescued and spirited away.
If you’re someone who is kept awake at night by the suffering of animals, like I am, you will appreciate this film for what it says about our fellow mammals, the whales. Humans have been gifted with superpowers that mean we can torment, subjugate, and kill animals who are no match for our technology. The only hope we have is if we can somehow turn our humanity around and evolve out of that level of barbarism.
Cameron is clearly fretful of the end of everything, and he should be. We should all be. 99% of everything that has ever been alive has gone extinct. It’s the one thing we know is coming. We might one day have nothing left but the worlds we can invent and then visit in some kind of virtual reality. And what a shame that will be.
Avatar: The Way of Water is a masterpiece. By that, I mean it is a fully accomplished work of a master. No one else could make a film quite like this and Cameron certainly never has, until now. He is in full possession of his talent as a visual storyteller, already evident from very early on with The Terminator, and he has developed the kind of 3-D that enhances the experience without making you feel slightly nauseous as previous versions have done.
More than that, it springs from the imagination and the beating heart of a man who hasn’t outgrown his capacity to care enough to take big risks and build big worlds full of light and color, life and death, love and hatred. Avatar: The Way of Water takes us on a wild ride, to be sure, and one that requires we hold on tight for the length of its over three-hour runtime. Some of us won’t. Most of us will. It’s the way of modern life. The way of movies now, and maybe the only way.
Avatar: The Way of Water is not just the most expensive film ever made that will also likely make more money than any film has ever made, but I would argue it’s also the most expensive art movie ever made. Great stories will still draw ticket buyers, but not if we forget the whole point of any of it. It’s not to win Oscars, or wow the critics. It’s to give something back to those out there in the dark.
