Avatar: Fire and Ash (Christian Movie Review)
Some of the familiar criticisms of the series remain valid, but with a hefty dose of jaw-dropping visuals and a refreshingly family-centric story, Avatar: Fire and Ash firmly establishes the series as the supreme film trilogy of the era.
About the Film
After a 13-year gap between Avatar (2009) and Avatar: The Way of Water (2022), audiences didn’t have to wait long to return to the lush world of Pandora. Avatar: Fire and Ash, the third entry in director James Cameron’s record-setting blockbuster franchise, is unlikely to win over new fans (and considering the films have earned more than $5 billion, it probably doesn’t need to). But it somehow elevates the scope and spectacle to even loftier heights. Some of the familiar criticisms of the series remain valid, but with a hefty dose of jaw-dropping visuals and a refreshingly family-centric story, Avatar: Fire and Ash firmly establishes the series as the supreme film trilogy of the era.
For better or worse, Avatar: Fire and Ash is the platonic ideal of a Hollywood blockbuster. It’s big, bloated, and stretched thin on originality, but it provides irresistibly satisfying escapist entertainment. Fire and Ash may not be the best Avatar movie, but it is arguably the one that most fully encapsulates James Cameron’s vision (narratively, thematically, and visually). If you enjoyed the first two films, Fire and Ash offers plenty more of the same in its sprawling 3:12m runtime.
The Avatar films stand alone in Hollywood for their visual scope and spectacle, and Cameron proves he has more tricks up his sleeve. This film ups the ante in almost every way, and it’s capped off with a thrilling climax (reminiscent of Star Wars: Return of the Jedi) that features a battle occurring simultaneously on land, air, sea, and in the spirit world. It’s the type of blockbuster spectacle that reminds audiences of the power of cinema. Watching the sprawling final battle without being caught up in the experience may say more about our disillusionment with Hollywood entertainment than about the film.
Visually, Avatar movies are above reproach. Narratively, it’s a different story—mainly because there isn’t much that is a different story. Many plot beats have been recycled from the previous film (just as that one mostly repackaged the first movie). For all its impressive visual scope, the final cinematic battle unfolds in nearly the same way as in the prior films (just supersized), and the frequency with which characters get captured only to escape or be rescued is almost comical.
What makes the familiar story forgivable is the characters. The film’s newcomers, “The Ash people” (essentially evil Na’vi) infuse new energy into the series. Their leader, Varang (Oona Chaplin), is the film’s clear standout, even if she’s underutilized. But the Sully family remain at the heart of the story. The films may follow a similar narrative template, but the characters are navigating those challenges from different places in their life and journey, which keeps the story from feeling stale.
The importance of “community” is deeply rooted in the ethos of Pandora, a world in which living beings can physically and spiritually “link” to each other. The film itself embodies that value. As a husband and a parent, it’s refreshing to see a major blockbuster series focus on family. But even though the Avatar movies are largely about family, they contain elements that make them a questionable entertainment choice for families. Once again, there’s plenty of profanity and a whole lot of blue alien skin on display. Christian audiences may also have mixed feelings about the depiction of Pandora’s pagan spiritual beliefs.
Avatar: Fire and Ash is largely about clinging to faith when God appears to be silent (see “themes” below). Of course, the kicker is that the god in question is more Pocahontas than biblical (although Eywa, the “Great Mother,” appears to be an actual deity). Still, Christians can affirm the film’s spiritual themes while recognizing where the film diverges from Scripture. In addition to the theme of faith, the film includes several clear biblical callbacks, including an “Abraham and Issac” moment.
In the end, Avatar: Fire and Ash does little to dispel existing criticisms of the series. The films follow a clear template, but that template is satisfying and enjoyable to watch. The world of Pandora is a joy to visit, and I’m fully invested in the Sully family. Avatar: Fire and Ash has flaws. But in an age of empty Hollywood slop and a migration from theaters to streaming, perhaps it is best to merely sit back and enjoy a cinematic experience that may never be topped.
For Consideration
On the Surface—(Profanity, Sexual content, violence, etc.).
Language: There is 1 f-word, as well as an abundance of other profanities (roughly 30-40, with the most frequent being “s—”).
Violence: Warriors die in battle as the result of arrows or gunfire, although minimal blood is shown (and the vast majority of the victims are aliens).
Sexuality: Plenty of blue alien skin is on display, as the Na’vi wear minimally covering tribal attire. The villainous leader of the “Ash People” is hedonistic and displays plenty of sensuality in her movement and desires. She mentions keeping an alien man around as her slave “to pleasure” her. Later, she and the man run into her tent (clearly to have sex) and are later shown sleeping in bed together, their bodies intertwined. An alien female and a human male kiss.
Engage The Film
The Silence of God
“The light always returns.” That line encapsulates the spiritual theme in Avatar: Fire and Ash. In a sense, the film explores the classic philosophical “problem of evil.” Faith is easy to maintain when everything is going well, but what about when tragedy hits? What about when God appears to be silent?
The Sully family’s faith is tested as they grieve the death of one of their own. Neytiri (Zoe Saldaña) declares, “All I have is my faith” (although she also harbors and must overcome bitterness and hatred). Jake is disillusioned and decides to take matters into his own hands rather than wait on Eywa to intervene. Likewise, the “Ash People” are defined by a volcano that erupted and devastated their village. Their leader bitterly shares how she cried out to Eywa, but “Eywa did not answer….” As a result, the tribe is the Pandora equivalent of atheists—the apparent silence of their god driving them to lash out at the world in anger.
There is plenty of powerful imagery about the perseverance of faith. Characters are shown in the “spiritual world” fighting through a dark forest toward a distant light. The final battle occurs during an eclipse, a metaphor for the theme. The experience of grief and pain may blot out the light for a time, but “the light always returns.”
The film echoes the words of Jesus in John 16:31-33, “Do you now believe? […] A time is coming and in fact has come when you will be scattered, each to your own home. You will leave me all alone. Yet I am not alone, for my Father is with me. I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”
