Avatar is an odd one. In nerd circles, in the minds of mavens and connoisseurs, among people who relate to pop culture in a particular way, it left "no impact." From such a viewpoint, there is no theory that can satisfactorily explain how Avatar became the biggest movie ever (up to that point). I'm in such a group. I didn't get it.
In 2009, I skipped Avatar, because I felt like I knew exactly what movie it would be based solely on the premise. In 2022, I finally watched it. It wasn't in 3D, but it was on the best screen I could manage, my home theater. And, yes, it was exactly the movie that I expected it would be in 2009. As a film it offered no surprises. Every development was as predictable as the phases of the moon.
It wasn't the most original, but I liked it. However, when I watched it, it was part of a double feature, and the second movie I watched that day was Princess Mononoke, which has a much more thoughtful and nuanced take on the theme of industrial avarice out of harmony with nature. My enthusiasm for Avatar waned due to the contrast.
But just because it cooled didn't mean I didn't still appreciate what it had done. Nothing before and little since has been animated in that same style, which, although not attention-grabbing like an Into The Spider-Verse or a, well, a Princess Mononoke, is still remarkably good-looking and technically impressive. I'm just gonna come right out and say that it's a visual marvel, just in a quiet and inconspicuous way. Outside of its looks, its strict adherence to cliché means that all of its tension and energy - which it certainly does not lack - comes from the
how and not the
what, bespeaking great skill in the craft of filmmaking.
If I had to choose a single thing I want most to happen when I'm watching a movie, I'd say I want to see something that I had never seen or imagined before. Avatar didn't deliver that for me, but that's because all of the things that inspired it also inspired millions of other artists, who had already long since poured their own interpretations of the same ideas into things I had already seen. And the reason for that is because a distinctive quality of the film obsessives I mentioned previously is that we relate to art creatively. We see something and we want to build on the idea, and we see others making new constructions and we build on those too. You don't have to literally
write fanfic to be inclined toward this process. In that context, Avatar feels like going back to 101-level material: "nobody" has anything to say about it because "everybody" has already graduated to its corollaries.
Which brings me to The Way of Water, which is different.
Whereas I knew exactly what Avatar would be, I have no clue what Avatar 2 is going to be about. The first one didn't leave any dangling sequel hooks, and its very genericity meant that it does not suggest any particular continuation as the most natural one. In other words, Avatar 2 lacks the predictability that was the only drawback of its predecessor. You could be a snob about Avatar because it's an obvious movie, but the only way to be a snob about The Way of Water is transitive snobbery about it being the sequel to Avatar - a very weak basis, since it was neither bad nor unpopular. Meanwhile, the sequel still has the same producer, the same director, the same visual design, improved animation techniques (the water effects
are legit unrivaled), a bigger budget, and more name recognition.
That's why I'm unable to maintain my detached attitude about it. I have to admit my own ignorance on matters of theory, and defer to the superior expertise of the man who's never made a flop in his life. With the caveat that individual metrics have shifted a lot since 2009 with the rise of streaming and the sufferings of the theater business during the pandemic - I'm convinced this film is going to be a huge commercial success.