B+

James Cameron experiences growing pains with the still-spectacular Avatar: Fire And Ash

For the first time, a three-hour Avatar epic feels like a bit much, but Cameron still delivers.

James Cameron experiences growing pains with the still-spectacular Avatar: Fire And Ash

James Cameron is a master of sequels, having made three of the best part-two movies of the blockbuster era. He’s so good, in fact, that those second installments often feel complete without a third (and if someone else makes a third anyway, maybe even more so). This means that Avatar: Fire And Ash is actually the first threequel of his 40-year career. It’s also his first follow-up to trail its predecessor within a normal sequel timeframe—and, for that matter, the quickest turnaround for any Cameron film since True Lies emerged almost exactly three years after Terminator 2. Maybe that’s why Fire And Ash, despite some lingering momentousness in the relatively scarce Avatar series, carries the constant, looming threat that it will feel something like a normal sequel. Not a long-awaited event, not a radical expansion or re-envisioning of its predecessor, not even Cameron’s first film of the decade. Just another spectacular, near-ceaselessly entertaining fantasy epic that shames 90% of its big-ticket competition. You know, one of those.

It’s an appropriately rarified problem for a repeated engineer of the “most expensive movie ever made.” As frustrating as it may have been to wait a decade-plus between Cameron’s fiction films, the earlier Avatar sequel The Way Of Water took advantage of that gap, catching up with human-turned-Na’vi Jake Sully (Sam Worthington) and his Na’vi wife Neytiri (Zoe Saldaña) years after the end of the first film. All of a sudden, with the addition of four Sully children, the movie was about a family of six—plus Pandora’s favorite son-in-law Spider (Jack Champion), a human who aspires to roll with the Na’vi full-time. Fire And Ash, meanwhile, finds the family shortly after the death of eldest son Neteyam in Water’s climactic battle. Neytiri is still in her ritual grieving period, and her vengeful anger strains her marriage to Jake, as well as her patience for Spider’s continued presence.

Because Spider requires special oxygen masks to breathe the alien atmosphere, Jake and Neytiri insist that he return to the friendly human scientists maintaining a base on Pandora, over the protests of their kids Lo’ak (Britain Dalton), Kiri (Sigourney Weaver, again playing a teenager through the magic of motion capture), and Tuk (Trinity Jo-Li Bliss). The family decides to accompany Spider on his journey back, via airships that combine seafaring vessels and horsedrawn carriages with a veiny, organic-looking hot-air balloon technology. They’re quickly attacked by another, more aggressive Na’vi tribe led by the literally fiery Varang (Oona Chaplin); the family is separated, pursued by both Varang and that pesky Quaritch (Stephen Lang), the ex-human colonel whose consciousness has been transferred to a Na’vi body, providing an ongoing dark mirror to Jake’s metamorphosis. In classic ’90s Batman-villain style, Varang and Quaritch decide they may be of use to each other. Varang holds no particular grudge against Jake and Neytiri, but she sure as hell isn’t happy with their beloved goddess Eywa, and wants to get her hands on what other Na’vi will not permit: firearms.

There’s more plot than that, too, some of which more closely rehashes material from the first two films—Water in particular, to the point where it’s easy to wonder whether some sequel material was dragged and dropped from the second movie into the third during their lengthy gestation period. The large cast, multiple Na’vi tribes, and tripled bad guys (the regular “sky people”—the humans who still want to ravage Pandora for its various natural resources—are also still hanging around) deviate Fire And Ash from the counterintuitive but highly effective structure of the first two movies. In both of those, Cameron spends a surprising amount of time luxuriating in the exploration of new fantasy environments, just as he explores so much of the Titanic well before the ship his the iceberg. The new movie parcels out action sequences at a more typical epic-blockbuster clip. This oddly makes the expansive runtime feel longer than the other two, even though it only exceeds them by a matter of minutes and may be the most purely action-packed of the three.

Then again, it’s hard to complain that Cameron serves up slam-bang set pieces at regular intervals. That early airship attack does the neat trick of introducing the fearsome, red-painted Varang through action so dynamic and excitingly choreographed that it should send the airship-fixated Kevin Feige into the fetal position. Even the most familiar of later sequences, a massive mash-up of the air battle from the first movie and the sea battle from the second, adds great new details: majestically murderous new sea creatures, or a smaller-scale fight scene that knocks its participants from floating rock to floating rock.

As is usually the case with Cameron, all of this potentially cacophonous action is easy to follow. It’s a little trickier to track all of the major characters’ emotional journeys, especially with the irrepressible Spider elbowing his way into the family. As Fire And Ash goes on, it feels increasingly unsure of just how much of a wrap-up this will be—or even what’s on the table for story threads that can be wrapped up, versus what will be left as the kind of dangling (or are they frayed?) threads that, until the Avatar sequels, rarely had a place in Cameron’s fantastical worlds. As a result, some of the most intriguing new wrinkles in this film, primarily involving Quaritch’s unlikely and sometimes downright hallucinatory alliance with Varang, fail to develop into full-fledged subplots. Quaritch’s Dark Sully act in particular feels like it could be excavated further, especially in a series that sometimes wants to have its colonialism and vanquish it, too.

In a sense, Cameron is a victim of his own success. The Avatar movies are so lushly overgrown with visual detail, and draw such surprisingly nuanced and sensitive motion-capture performances from its human cast, that any momentary storytelling hiccup can feel like a glitch in the machine. Fire And Ash is terrific entertainment that occasionally gives the impression of well-appointed vamping; it’s almost enough to wonder if all the meticulous writer’s-room blueprinting of two-to-four Avatar sequels might have done as much harm as good. Viewers who just long for more time in Pandora are in luck: Cameron may not see a way out himself.

Director: James Cameron
Writers: James Cameron, Rick Jaffa, Amanda Silver
Starring: Sam Worthington, Zoe Saldaña, Jack Champion, Britain Dalton, Sigourney Weaver, Stephen Lang, Oona Chaplin, Kate Winslet
Release Date: December 19, 2025

 
Join the discussion...