Avatar: The Way of Water

Spoiler-free!

It's been years since the original Avatar, and same goes for Jake Sully, who's formed a family and a comfortable way of life with the Na'vi. But the sky people return (surprise surprise) and a few of them are out for revenge (dun dun duun). The Avatar sequels were announced once the novelty of the original had worn off, when it was cool to trash James Cameron's space fantasy world. But this "unasked for" sequel has value which only its creator could have dreamed up—which is why it's good that he's the one telling this story and not your average cynical nitpicking filmgoer... like me.

There's nothing quite like a filmmaker who's excited about his own work.

The word that first comes to mind as I think about The Way of Water as a whole is "romantic." That might give the wrong idea, but it's the only word I have. James Cameron jumps back into the world of his own making, gushing—like a kid with a crush—hurrying to catch us up of the Sully family's life so he can bring them into a new sandbox to explore. He dutifully exposits about the status quo and sets up new characters, but despite the movie's 3-hour runtime, we get into the plot fast. He doesn't want to tell us any more than necessary, he wants to show us. To dig into the clay and sculpt and create. He has a storyteller's sensibilities and gleeful care for his story, and that excitement rubs off into every inch of the work.

That's why it's the first half of the second act that shines so well. This is the part we're all here for—the exploring of the world and culture of Pandora. It's especially fun because it focuses on the Sully kids character-wise. We get to know the second oldest, Lo'ak, as he befriends an outcast whale-like creature, and the older girl, Kiri, who's the adopted offspring of Sigourney Weaver's Avatar from the first movie. They don't explain exactly what happened there, leaving a little mystery to reveal in later sequels. She's a young teen, played by Sigourney Weaver, sulky insecure childishness and all. It must have been great fun for her. The magic of motion capture. The other new character standout for me was Spider—one of few exclusively human characters in the movie. He's a kid who "went native" and is always interacting with mo-cap characters—who are designed to be bigger than him. Another logistical and performance challenge. 

I don't care, I'll always enjoy the "making friends with animals" trope.

Despite the technology, the most impressive part for me is the worldbuilding. It reminds me of the little worlds I'd construct in my head as a child in a very specific way that I can't quite articulate. Contributing to the sense of romance? At any rate, the worldbuilding works so well because it's part of the story, not just the place in which the story takes place. Underwater exploration is accompanied with the Sully kids dipping their toes into the social hierarchy of their new peers and discovering their unique strengths. And Lo'ak's whale friend is not only vital to the plot, but serves as a character foil for him, and is introduced through a thrilling underwater attack sequence from what must be Pandora's only non-pacifist creature. At every turn, Cameron rewards our patience in sitting through 3 hours of his imagination brought to life, by using that imagination, and his skills as a filmmaker, to entertain us in return.

Even when the stakes rise and the third act rolls around, the imagination doesn't quell, and the inevitable sea battle had all the built-up character, stakes, and creative set-pieces in play to keep me from checking out as I so often do when a film's final battle starts up. Then things quiet and culminate in a more emotional, dramatic climax, which serves the theme over the movie's gleeful penchant for CGI explosions. I might say I'm surprised—that the movie won me over fast and never lost me to the end—but it's more that I'm relieved. More than relief even, it's rewarding my hope. I knew James Cameron was a filmmaker of the classic breed, but so many of his ilk have traded in their creative passion for an agenda. But no. He made a movie, and told a story. And he hits the beats of his medium with care and craftsmanship, not as a checklist around which to structure a pandering sermon.

This movie is proof then, that storytelling and movies aren't dead.

As time passes, the refreshed novelty may fade again, and I may come to see more of the flaws—which do exist here. Some was too melodramatically silly even for me to take seriously. But for me, Avatar has never been about being flawless, or high art. That's not what's valuable about it. Take away the motion-capture, the CGI, the blue people on an alien planet, and you have a simple story. The first one was about a broken man finding his place in the world. This one's about a father trying to keep his family together. Jake's world shrinks, but becomes more personal, and so feels huge. This sequel is rare in that way—it doesn't retread old ground. It adds to what came before. Not ignoring it. Not retconning it. Genuinely building onto it. Complementing it, and growing deeper. The original Avatar increases in value because of it, rather than being thrown aside to make way for the new. And room for further expansion sits out there, waiting.

I don't know where on Pandora James Cameron will go and explore next, but as long as he's in love with his world, I will be too. I can't help it. His reliable craftmanship, high imagination, and creative romance sweeps me up into the fantasy every time.

Mortal Engines

Very mild spoilers.

This one's a mixed bag. Based on the book series, Mortal Engines tells the story of a steampunk scifi world where survivors of an ancient nuclear war have turned their cities mobile and swallow up other cities for resources. Valentine (Hugo Weaving) runs things on the predator city London, and he has dark plans for long-term survival. In the way of said plans was Hester's (Hera Hilmar) mother, and now Hester is out for revenge. Tom (Robert Sheehan), a history buff, is caught between them, and he and Hester form a reluctant alliance against Valentine.

Non-scifi/adventure fans need not apply, I guess.

And that leads me straight into the film's first and main problem. Hester and Tom always know how Valentine is evil, but his plans are discovered and planned against only once the third act starts. Hester has vague notions of revenge, and Tom has vague notions of helping her, but they wander through the second act without anything particular to do. The resident badass, Anna Fang (Jihae), picks them up and proceeds to steal their heroic moments by being better than them at everything. They kind of putter along behind her, uselessly. It was frustrating, as I wanted to root for these two, but the movie made it nigh impossible by letting them do nothing I could root for them to accomplish. Adventure was laid out right in front of them, but they were never allowed to dive in.

I wanted this to be this year's Valerian and the City of a Thousand Planets. Debatable in quality, but enjoyable in a way that doesn't require quality. In Valerian, the two are extremely hands-on and that's what makes the adventure work. Hester and Tom are practically observers of adventure, not participators or instigators. Romantic tension between Tom and Hester falls flat too. They have very little chemistry to keep it fueled, and it's saved for far too long. Acting-wise the only cast member who's genuinely commendable is Hugo Weaving. He runs circles around everyone and doesn't break a sweat. That wouldn't matter, as adventure isn't a high-acting genre, but better performances would've been useful to bolster the meandering.

The epic music swell during his reveal was magnificent. 

What this movie gets right is its production and art design. Director Christian Rivers has a background in this kind of thing, and it shows. The places created are awesome, and I was disappointed every time they weren't sufficiently explored before they blew up or burnt down. Our heroes don't explore so much. They stride through places on their way in, and run through them on their way out. The world created here is too good for the characters and events that inhabit it. And even the cinematography lacks the ability to show it off properly. The script has practiced beats and structure, but I'd rather it be uneven and messy than this by-the-numbers.

Every new turn started in a direction so full of potential, and each time it seemed snatched away by having to follow rules. Screenplay 101, with no bells and whistles. At one point, there's a threat of their being auctioned off and turned into sausages, but two seconds later the threat is nullified and they're off to somewhere new. Most of the film is spent in narrowly avoiding those rabbit holes instead of exploring them, and where's the fun in that? Rescues and escapes are just conveniences, so the plot can continue, not cleverly implemented, and carried out by characters I cared zero about (sorry, Anna) instead of the heroes themselves. It's all competent, really, but only in the most base sense.

It was great at engaging my imagination, which at the same time made it all the more frustrating when it took it nowhere.

I hate that I have to mention this, but that Minion gag was -- to be as brutally honest as possible -- the worst thing I've ever seen happen it a movie. Ever. In my entire lifetime. It's not only that it's a dumb and already dated joke, but it snatched me out of the movie similarly to how being bashed upside the head with a bag of bricks might. Whoever thought of it and whoever approved it must've been on stupid pills, and anyone who didn't say anything against it are complicit. It doesn't ruin the movie. But it might as well have. I wanted to love this movie. Its structural bones are exactly my thing. The hero duo; the setting; the potential for high adventure. There are capable moments, and a wonderfully solid world to build on, but the completed structure is amateurish and rickety.

Because of my disappointment I'm focusing on the bad, but there is good here, I promise. It's book-ended in high-flying goodness, for example. The opening sequence really clicked, and it wowed me. And the climactic buildup finds its footing again. I loved the culture and world-building, like Tom getting excited over finding a vintage toaster. And I like the idea of Tom and Hester's dynamic. Her being wild, cold, and scary, and him being fascinated but totally out of his depth. He gets the hero arc. She's leading a revenge tale. It squeaks by, but the intention is strong. And I weirdly liked the stuff with Shrike (Mo-capped by Stephen Lang). One rabbit hole that was explored a little after all.

I don't mind her scar being toned down, but they still play it up inside the movie, which is silly.

Despite it all, if there's ever a sequel I will be there. I'll probably even watch this again someday, and maybe now that I've explained the ways it let me down, I'll be able to continue enjoying what it did right for me. I'm sure it'll always be a mixed bag, with some of it junk and some of it treasure. Treasure on par with vintage toasters anyway -- but hey, vintage toasters are valuable to some, and I guess count me in as one; metaphorically, anyway. You have to sift through a lot of junk to find them, but if you find them fascinating too, this may be a mixed bag worth diving into.