I’ve read and heard bits and pieces of arguments that claim Avatar is an old, racist narrative: the white man who comes to rescue the dark natives.
Yes and no. Yes, that is what appears to be happening for much of the movie. But, no, that’s not the end of the story.
The only way to drive a stake through the heart of a narrative is to rehearse and then change it. That’s what happens in Avatar.
At the very end of the movie, the bad guy, a white man, confronts the hero, a white man, and says: How does it feel to betray your race?
Apparently, it feels fucking fantastic. Something like getting to start life over again as a skinnier, taller, more muscular, more finely featured you. Also, it means you can talk to every form of life. And you can fly.
All of which must look pretty attractive to the hero of the movie: a vet in a wheelchair who can’t afford to pay for the surgery that would bring his legs back and whose only mentioned family, his twin brother, was shot dead in a robbery before the movie begins.
It might also look attractive to anyone who has ever wanted to start over again. Or fly.
The promise of flight is a constant in history. Sometimes, flight can only be achieved at great cost. In this movie, a story for children as much as adults, the price for flight is environmentalism.
Specifically, a vague post-industrial environmentalism which, voiced by the famous Alien-killer Sigourney Weaver, is interesting if not compelling: there’s more wealth in a planet that is exploited holistically and incrementally than one that is stripped apart, all at once, according to a plan that can’t – or won’t – see beyond a single financial quarter.
I’ll take a few cliches and the badly written prayer scenes any day in exchange for that fairy tale.
postscript
At some point during my second viewing, my eyes drifted off the expensive visuals and I focused on an all-too-familiar musical score for a supposedly brave new world. It was then that the lyrics from another cheesy musical score came to my mind: “We Don’t Need Another Hero” from Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome.
I find Avatar’s take at environmentalist science fiction, corny missteps and all, more satisfying than that 1980’s dystopia. In the dried out, anarchic world of Thunderdome, it’s too late to hope for a green planet. In the violent yet balanced world of Avatar, a very green and vibrant planet can still be saved.
Even if that world is a Pandora’s box, it’s filled with plenty of signs of hope. (Many of which are modeled after creatures in our own oceans.)