Movie Review: Avatar

Avatar is the grand cinematic experience we have all been waiting for. It is a film that weaves a delicate balance between an extraordinary visual presentation and a genuinely intriguing love story. Director James Cameron succeeds once again at being the master of showmanship, taking full advantage of his newly invented technology to weave a massive portrait of spurting colors and exuding visual sensations. Yet the reason why Avatar works so well is due to the simple effectiveness of its cliched plot devices. While it is true that the film is hampered by the repetitive nature of its love story, its integrity is not compromised because Cameron does an excellent job at developing his characters. The plight of Sam Worthington to transcend beyond his paralytic state and become a ruggedly handsome 10-ft smurf is surprisingly fascinating because of the redemptive arc his story is built around. The desire of Zoe Saldana to save the Na'vi from military annihilation, while also falling in love with Worthington, is alluring because of Cameron's painstaking devotion to illustrate every aspect of the world of Pandora. Avatar can best be described as Cameron's passion project; an intense spectacle layered in existential undertones and pantheistic mythology. It is a film dependent upon the ambitions of its director, a man who in twelve years time may have transformed himself from a vainglorious "King of the World" into a preeminent "God of the Cinema".

To say that Cameron has crossed into the sacred plateau of cinematic divinity would appear to be an absurd exaggeration of the truth. Cameron is a filmmaker who has always emphasized style over substance with his body of work. His success has been warranted on his ability to impress audiences with extraordinary visuals while sacrificing the fundamental principles of good screenwriting in the process. Yet with his last two films, Cameron has taken huge strides towards incorporating character development into his stylistic repertoire. The soul of Titanic rested in the loving embraces of Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet, which in turn made the film's final hour a true work of art. Cameron taps into similar elements with Avatar, using Sam Worthington and Zoe Saldana as vehicles to drive home the epic scope of his cinematic painting. While their romance adds a compelling layer to what is essentially Cameron's artistic revolution, it does not dominate the forefront of the picture simply because it doesn't have to. Avatar is a film completely and irrevocably subordinate to its spectrum of imagination and global allegory. As a result, Worthington and Saldana exist as designated tour guides, working together to illustrate the subliminal nuances of Cameron's hauntingly beautiful world.

It is obvious that Cameron's Pandora is meant to draw comparisons to the scattered realms of our own earthly domain, thereby inviting the audience to absorb the allegorical structure at play in the film. The digital cinematography of Mauro Fiore exposes the deepest and darkest attributes of Pandora to the point where the audience is taken aback by Cameron's meticulous attention to detail. A vast combination of low-angle, wide-angle, and horizontal panning shots emphasize the majestic landscapes and untainted natural beauty working in harmony with the primal instincts of the Na'vi culture. There is no part of Pandora left unexplored in Avatar. Cameron focuses his camera on every single aspect of the alien planet, illustrating the uniqueness of every creature stemming from the exotic plant life to the horrifying jungle beasts. Simultaneously, Cameron also examines the intricacies of a tribal civilization, highlighting their devotion to the perfection of nature and the universe. From the flowing rhythm of the Na'vi language to their enduring chants of worship encapsulated in a solemn blue light, Cameron fledges out a culture rooted in the unilateral synchronization of all things. In essence, Avatar is Cameron's love ode to the unparalleled beauty of our natural environment. As a result, the film is able to offer a stark contrast between the pantheistic worship of the Na'vi and the corrupting military imperialism of our own civilization.

Cameron symbolizes our need for military supremacy through the impassioned viciousness of Col. Quaritch (played by Stephen Lang) and the blazing capitalist ardor of Parker Selfridge (played by Giovanni Ribisi). Their unbridled enthusiasm towards conquering the Na'vi tribe and excavating their natural resources is also indicative of their sheer ignorance with regard to the preservation of life on Pandora. Their interests are centered around ideological dominance and economic profit rather than a pursuit of knowledge and scientific research. As a result, their ability to coexist with the Na'vi can only be prevalent if the Na'vi submits to their will. Cameron and Fiore make visual suggestions throughout the entire film, shooting the military locales in bleak, gray colors and layering every frame with extraordinary amounts of destructive technology i.e. military helicopters and motion-controlled robots. The conversations between soldiers and scientists are shot in a tightly constricted manner, as if to make the audience aware of the escalating tension slowly developing throughout the course of the film. By the time Worthington and Saldana consummate their love in the heart of Cameron’s jungle paradise, Quaritch’s head and Selfridge’s patience are ready to explode amidst the sound of guns blazing and the fury of devastating war. It is at this point where Avatar abandons its romantic sensibilities to transform itself into a blistering tempest of chaos and pandaemonium. The last 30-45 minutes of the film ring in a hallowed symphony of unrestrained visual magnificence due in large part to Cameron’s ambitious elucidation of a conflict between eco-military prominence and the sacrosanct devotion to the beauty of nature.

Those who qualm about Cameron’s ineptitude when it comes to screenwriting are justified by his use of corny dialogue and hackneyed plot contrivances. For some reason, phrases like “That’s what I’m talking about, bitch” and “It’s already pissed off” just don’t seem to resonate when cataloguing a reaction to one of Pandora’s creatures. A film of this magnitude should not resort to pedestrian levels of screenwriting in order to drive the narrative towards its inevitable conclusion. If there is anything to complain about Avatar, it remains buried underneath the pages of its screenplay. With that being said, the audience is compensated for Cameron’s shortcomings with perhaps his best work as a filmmaker. All of the technical aspects of this film are meant to serve the power of the narrative. As a result, they are all able to transcend the realm of cinematic achievement because they are instrumental towards the creation of a different world. The production design of Rick Carter and Robert Stromberg successfully captures the subtle idiosyncrasies of a celestial wonderland; a territory characterized by a vibrant radiance in constant interaction with creatures of deceptive peril. The sound design and visual effects bring those creatures and the Na’vi tribe to breathtaking life through the development of original noises and movements, all of which are meant to draw out the physical and emotional tendencies of everything living on Pandora. The score of James Horner revels in the epic grandeur of its story with spectacular orchestral numbers and mellifluous choral sequences, all of which come together in a cataclysmic exhibition of staggering aural harmony. For these reasons, Avatar takes its place as one of the year’s crowning achievements in filmmaking. Yet it also succeeds at becoming the iconic global experience James Cameron dreamed about while sleeping in the royal bed chamber meant for a king.

Lenny’s Grade: A