Visually stunning Fire and Ash undone by length
When L’Arrivee d’un train a La Ciotat (Arrival of a Train at La Ciotat) was shown at the Lumiere Brothers studio in 1896, viewers apparently recoiled as they saw the locomotive pull in, certain that the engine coming toward them would do them harm. While that may seem like a silly notion to us, their reaction was likely a natural instinct, their brains not having been exposed to the medium before and unsure how to process it. Since then, filmmakers have been striving to make the filmgoing experience seem more lifelike, trying either to break the boundaries of the screen or adding depth to it. Gregg Toland’s deep focus technique was a step forward in providing directors with a means of utilizing background spaces while various 3-D techniques invented in the 1950s were tiny steps toward making it seem the image was leaping off the screen.
However, the film stock itself provided limitations that could not be overcome. Yet, with the coming of digital technology, more advanced alterations could be made that would lead to producing not only a more life-like image on screen, but seemingly expand the depth of vision to the horizon. For better or worse, James Cameron and his technicians at Lightstorm Entertainment have perfected this process.
It’s on full display in the director’s latest magnum opus, Avatar: Fire and Ash, a unique visual entertainment, equally fascinating and frustrating. Without question, the sights it contains are incredible, the film a technological marvel that points toward a radical new way of rendering images on the big screen. The planet Pandora’s seductive blues and greens prove hypnotic, various fields of vision obvious, plants seemingly reaching into your lap, arrows appearing to whiz toward your face, and points of action near and far are plainly visible and easy to see.
But there are drawbacks as well. The many battle scenes between the Na’vi, their united enemies the Sky People (humans) and the Ash People, are problematic. The frantic movement is too much to take in, overwhelming in its speed. Equally troubling are moments when there are multiple skirmishes occurring in the same frame; it’s impossible to keep track of all that’s occurring. As to the many sequences in which the natives are flying on their banshees, the viewer on their backs along with them, their movements are too quick, the result a sense of vertigo. Upon getting up to leave the theater on two occasions – it three hours and 17 minutes – I felt dizzy and a tiny bit nauseous.
Like those French viewers in 1896, our brains have yet to adjust in order to process this new version of the familiar medium. How long such an adjustment might take is hard to say, but I suspect it would take seeing a steady diet of movies made with the process before it occurs. Obviously, as cost prohibitive as these films are to make, it’s unlikely that a consistent stream of them will be produced, so these productions and our reactions to them will remain unique.
As for the story in Ash, it’s as mundane as its presentation is groundbreaking, a repetitious barrage of overblown action sequences held together with the most threadbare of plots. That being said, it does provide some pleasant surprises and the most interesting development of its characters than any of the previous entries. Mind you, that’s a very low bar.
The human soldier turned Na’vi, Sully (Sam Worthington), his bride, Neytiri (Zoe Saldana), their children, both biological and adopted, Lo’ak (Britain Dalton), Tuk (Trinity Bliss), Kiri (Sigourney Weaver) and Spider (Jack Champion), have taken refuge with the Metkayina people, who have a mystical connection with the water. This proves to be a mistake for the group’s leader, Tonowari (Cliff Curtis), his pregnant wife, Ronal (Kate Winslet) and their people as Sully’s enemy, Quaritch (Stephen Lang), who has been resurrected as an avatar as well, is hot on his trail, engaging in a scorched earth campaign to bring him in.
Much like the two previous films, for the large part this is a chase movie that never seems to end. The battle scenes, of which there are far too many, stretch to the point of tedium and eye fatigue (I closed my eyes at numerous times, it was just too much), while the story itself could have been resolved in a nice neat two-hour package were Cameron not so self-indulgent.
That being said, the relationship between Quaritch and his son Spider emerges as the most emotionally resonant and rewarding in the movie. Lang’s a good enough actor that he’s still able to convey genuine affection and disdain despite the many digital filters he’s acting through. Other highlights are the addition of Varang (Oona Chaplin), leader of the Ash people, who proves to be a hissable villain, while an escape sequence in which Scully breaks out with the aid of a massive plow driven by marine biologist Ian Garvin (Jemaine Clement) was memorable. This is primarily because I could follow it without getting eye strain.
One of the most remarkable things about the Avatar series are the evident advancements made in digital imaging from the first film to Ash. The 2009 feature, groundbreaking in its day, looks primitive now. Just how this process will evolve and be used in the next two series’ entries, slated for 2027 and 2029, remains to be seen. And while they will likely prove visually impressive, I can’t help but worry that the ghost in Cameron’s vast machine, his preference for the technical over the human, will continue to be its greatest flaw. In Theaters.
Brooks’ focus lacking in McCay
Having not directed a movie for 15 years, James Brooks steps behind the camera once more with Ella McCay, a film that, not surprisingly, is a bit out of step with the times. This proves to be a minor quibble, as a much more serious narrative blunder occurs that completely derails the story, an approach the veteran filmmaker should have been wise enough to avoid.
Played with pluck to spare by Emma Mackey, Ella is an idealistic politician, the lieutenant governor of an unnamed state, who knows exactly what kinds of policies she’d like to enact, but lacks the political acumen to get anything done. This proves to be a major problem when circumstances occur that thrust her into the governor’s seat, a role she embraces with zeal. Problem is, a perfect storm of problems emerges that thwart her at every turn.
After being gone for nearly 20 years, her deadbeat dad (Woody Harrelson) reappears seeking forgiveness for his many paternal sins; a reporter threatens to break a story that will put her in a negative light; her brother, Casey (Spike Fearn) has seemingly gone missing and her husband, Ryan (Jack Lowden) threatens to leave her unless he’s given a key role in her administration.
Yeah, it’s a lot, especially as all these events are crammed into a three-day period. For the most part, it works. Smart but not patronizing, funny but not forced, the film gets more interesting by the minute as one knotty moral dilemma after another rears its ugly head. The performances are sincere and effective. Jamie Lee Curtis as Ella’s Aunt Helen, Kumail Nanjiani as Trooper Nash and Albert Brooks as Governor Bill provide that little extra something veterans of their ilk contribute effortlessly. So far, so good …
However, at the one-hour mark, Brooks forgets the title of the film he’s making. Seeking refuge from the tumult swirling around her, Ella drops in on her hapless brother Casey and the movie grinds to a halt. A character as irritating as he is dull, his presence sucks the very life out of the movie, the mundanity of his troubles standing in stark contrast to his sister’s. Suffering from severe anxiety and a bit of agoraphobia, while running a questionable number-crunching operation, he’s agonizing over the fact that, a year ago, he didn’t ask out a young woman (Ayo Edebiri) he thinks he could build a future with. Being the object of Casey’s affection has us sympathizing with her from the start. That being the case, the way their storyline winds up defies all logic.
The boat nearly rights itself once the focus shifts back to Ella but the momentum and urgency never fully returns. The film’s theme is worthwhile as Brooks, rather naively, puts forth the notion that government can still act in the best interest of its citizenry and many social ills can be addressed and solved with tenacity and goodwill. To be sure, the last time sentiments such as these were heard without a degree of cynicism was when Frank Capra espoused them in 1939’s Mr. Smith goes to Washington, yet Brooks heart is in the right place.
In the end, McCay reveals itself to be a scattered movie, Brooks having lost the ability to combine sincere drama with genuine humor. The deft touch that made Terms of Endearment and As Good as it Gets classics seems to have abandoned him. The director, much like his contemporaries Francis Ford Coppola, Clint Eastwood and Kevin Costner, seems woefully out of step with the times. In Theaters.
This article appears in December 18-24, 2025.
