There was a time when James Cameron’s films mattered. He burst onto the scene with The Terminator, and from there his command of the blockbuster only grew through Aliens, Terminator 2: Judgment Day, True Lies, and Titanic. Each project felt bigger, bolder, more assured. Ego may have inflated alongside his skill, but when he’s focused with one universe, Avatar Fire and Ash is falling flat. I’m not wowed by the digital graphics. I want deeper, spiritual, meaning.
I read the first film as Cameron’s take on environmentalism, filtered through soul transference and a very direct moral lens. It wasn’t subtle, but it had intent. The second film pushed into new territory, including a deeper engagement with spiritualism. That spark, however, was nowhere to be found on Cameron’s third return to Pandora. I found no meaning between the lines, no sense of discovery.
This latest feels built on a production line rather than imagined from scratch. Yes, there are moments of realism because some of it was shot in New Zealand, but when the rest is built on CGI over green-screen spectacle, I say meh. Is that necessary? Absolutely. Cameron can be wildly imaginative when he wants to be, but sadly he’s lost the touch. Digital tools suit a filmmaker who, in another life, probably would have been a Renaissance painter. But technical freedom doesn’t guarantee emotional weight.
What I watched felt like a paint-by-numbers exercise rather than something truly inspired. At its core, this is a family film about children pushing back against what their father believes is right. Part three feels more like a teen rebellion story, which isn’t a bad idea on paper. But once new tribes are introduced, yet another variation on the same species, the setup turns mundane. I’d seen all of this before.
Back when this franchise debuted, the first film was full of promise. The spectacle was vivid, the cinematography assured, and the ideas were strong. The second film flirted with tribes more tuned with specific elements, namely fire, water, earth, air. And that’s when I wondered why? Sure, while what’s crafted ties with Nature, I thought Cameron is stepping into the shoes of another. Personally, I’d rather check out Aang’s role of protector of a world rather than Jake.
Cameron can handle spectacle with both hands tied behind his back, but this entry lacks that je ne sais quoi to make me care. Even the mechanics of Jake Sully’s (Sam Worthington) soul transfer, once central to the story, now feel incidental. All he is doing is enjoying the life with a family he loves. Although he raises them as humans, since that’s what he knows, there’s much more to relish. As the only individual to experience a full soul transfer, the other biologicals are as normal as they can be. Kiri (Sigourney Weaver) exists as something of a miracle. Born from the inert Avatar body of Dr. Grace Augustine (also played by Weaver), this young girl is biologically linked to that self and deeply connected to Eywa.
This second film introduced the concept of digital “uploads,” which felt closer to backups than preserved essences. In Avatar Fire and Ash, Spider’s (Jack Champion) transformation is important. Rather than a soul transfer, he undergoes a biological infusion. After a near-fatal incident, Pandoran mycelia allow him to breathe the planet’s air and grow a neural interface. When The RDA, the antagonists, learns of this, they want to study him so the other soldiers can benefit, and the Sully family will have to go into further hiding!
The ideas are there. The screenplay simply doesn’t linger on them. What made the first film resonate was how the soul transfer was felt rather than explained. The emotional weight carried the concept. That perspective sold me more than any visual flourish.
Even the Avatar comics extend the world sideways rather than inward. These works focus on action, politics and conflict. They’re functional pieces of action fantasy, but they don’t linger on metaphysics. The spiritual mechanics that once felt central are treated as settled lore. Soul transfer is no longer a question, but a given. Eywa is no longer mysterious. Identity, memory, and transcendence become background texture rather than narrative pressure. The universe grows outward, not deeper.
Avatar is no longer interested in what it means to cross thresholds of being. It’s interested in operating within a fully established world. The comics follow that same gravity. They confirm the direction rather than challenge it. I hadn’t disengaged out of impatience or fatigue. I’d simply followed the path far enough to recognise when it stopped asking the questions that once pulled me in.
This filmmaker has acknowledged that not everyone is eager to continue. Each frame takes time to perfect, and if this latest entry doesn’t perform, the remaining chapters may end up in print. The biggest issue with the film is with the long run-time. Reading is far preferable to shifting in my seat, waiting for a chance to rush to the washroom. When the film eventually reaches streaming, I’ll be grateful for the pause button.
That’s where I am with Avatar now. The world held promise when it explored things I cared about. But now, there’s not enough of what I want to see explored. If it’s actually there, it’s buried under all the digital scenery rather than being front and center. And I really hope Cameron is not aware of Ultima IV: Quest of the Avatar. That series remembers what once made reincarnation meaningful, and to see him try to translate that without the fan knowledge is scary!
3 Stars out of 5
Avatar Fire and Ash Trailer
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