Avatar: Fire and Ash

As many people already know, I am someone who is ride or die for James Cameron, full-stop, no shame, queue the banshee screech. Avatar: The Way of Water might honestly be my favorite movie of all time. Watching Cameron’s magnum opus is practically therapy: visually transcendent, emotionally impactful, and most importantly, a movie you can completely give yourself to Eywa in. And from the grand technical flexes to the loveable characters to the way the plot keeps diving deeper into Pandora’s ocean of lore, I am absolutely the core demographic for Avatar: Fire and Ash. The past two films were among my favorites of their respective years, and this has been my most anticipated movie ever since the first tulkun learned to sing.

To some, what I’m about to say may sound like the highest praise imaginable; to others, it is the confirmation bias they’ve ever held against Cameron’s passion project. Fire and Ash is essentially a 3 1/2-hour epilogue to The Way of Water. We pick up immediately where we left off: the Sully clan mourning Neteyam, Spider still wrestling with his daddy issues, and the Metkayina grieving their fallen tulkun after the Sky People’s attack. As someone who truly sees this franchise, I love that the movie drops us straight back into the story without wasting any time catching the audience up on what they have missed. No “previously on”s or half-hearted exposition dumps. Instead, the opening grounds us in our characters immediately and hints at where their arcs will roll, glide, and soar over the next three hours. Watching The Way of Water and Fire and Ash back-to-back is going to be a religious experience that I fully plan on committing to the moment Fire and Ash releases. These are two epic parts to one story with zero fluff. It deserves to be seen unbroken, unbothered, and laser-focused. 

One of the most intriguing elements of Fire and Ash is how the aftermath of the Sky People’s assault weighs on the Sully clan. You see a family who will always stick together and never give up, get put to the ultimate test. The cords that hold the clan together start to crumble and the family begins to be ripped from the inside out. 

Early on into the runtime, the Sullys are uprooted from their Metkayina hideaway and are forced to go on the run. In doing so, the world of Pandora continues to expand; we meet the Wind Traders and are shown just how imaginative and unique this world is. The lush transportation devices and the attention to detail remain as one of the Avatar franchise's most impressive features. This continues to be the case when we are introduced to another entirely new Na’vi tribe: the Fire Clan, heavily featured in the marketing but even more captivating in execution. Their character designs? Unreal. The face paint, the braids, the movement that borders on animalistic, all of it gives the impression of watching warriors who were carved straight from smoke and embers.

And then there is Varang, the Fire People’s leader, who is the reason I now understand the phrase “I see you” on a spiritual level. One hallucination sequence featuring her had me practically levitating. Ooana Chaplin commands every frame, not just with her cadence or body language, but with pure presence. Chaplin’s Varang completely steals the franchise away with her limited screentime inside this film. When Fire and Ash later takes its plot in other directions from the Fire People’s reign of terror, it feels like it loses a spark you didn’t realize you had grown so attached to. Chaplin’s Varang is unforgettable: whether she is the woman of your dreams or your nightmares, she will undoubtedly occupy your mind the moment you are first introduced to her.

Some naysayers may criticize Fire and Ash for feeling like a retread of The Way of Water. But as many fans know, these films were originally conceived as one singular story. Cameron and company chose to split that story into two cinematic events so they could leave no stone unturned… and honestly, the outcome is all the better for it. We get more time to expand the world of Pandora, more adventures with Payakan, more opportunities to flesh out our massive ensemble, and more one-of-a-kind action set pieces. Fire and Ash adds a lot of new material to the narrative, and not a single minute feels wasted. Every new element continues to expand and evolve the ongoing story in meaningful ways.

Technically and visually, Fire and Ash is a feast for the senses. Following in its predecessor’s footsteps, it is gorgeous from top to bottom. It carries that signature Cameron visual DNA, painterly compositions, immaculate set pieces, and a world that always feels alive. The production design expands beautifully on the familiar (the Metkayina village, the Sully home, the RDA industrial nightmare) while introducing new locales like the tulkun gathering waters, the Fire Clan’s volcanic domain, and the Wind Travelers’ roaming settlement.

Some of the most criminally underrated elements of the Avatar Franchise are the masterful craft work in the costume, makeup, and hairstyling departments. Each Na’vi clan is so distinct, from the varied color palettes to the intricate garment structure to detailed accessories that feel deeply cultural. And obviously, it wouldn’t be an Avatar film without visual effects that look like Wētā opened a wormhole to another dimension. The Na’vi, the tulkun, the creatures, every frame is the ultimate James Cameron flex. Simon Franglen’s original score continues to impress. It is no easy task to helm the ship after the late, great James Horner, but between his inspired additions to The Way of Water and his invigorating Fire and Ash score, his compositions are stunning. The sound design especially blew me away, and it is likely the standout technical leap over the previous films. I felt every sound of Pandora as I screened this in the DGA Theater.

Performance-wise, the returning cast continues to deliver what we all desire. Sam Worthington’s Jake Sully and Oscar winner Zoë Saldaña’s Neytiri remain the emotional backbone of the franchise, and each gets moments that tug at every heartstring I have left. I especially found myself compelled at how far they go in a specific moment in the forest with Spider. Britain Dalton gives Lo’ak even more emotional depth here in Fire and Ash. Between his connection with Payakan, his shame over Neytayam, and bonding with Bailey Bass’s Tsierya, Dalton brilliantly showcases a range of emotions over this epic tale.  If Cameron gets to continue these Avatar films, I am so intrigued to see how these three stories continue to get deeper. While Sigourney Weaver and Jack Champion serve the story well enough, they don’t hit quite as hard as they did in The Way of Water. I personally would have liked to see this story line trimmed down in favor for more time with Trinity Bliss’s Tuk and more scenes with Bailey Bass’s Tsierya. Even Stephen Lang’s villain, Col. Miles Quaritch lands some genuinely fun one-liners throughout Fire and Ash. Sure, if he had even a few extra dad jokes, he might be unbearable. But Lang still has such a commanding scene presence that you can’t help but enjoy his presence. Then, as I mentioned above, newcomer Ooana Chaplin’s Varang is my clear standout: ferocious, magnetic, and instantly iconic. 

Now, my one big drawback comes from the fact that I care too much about this franchise. Avatar was super formative for my love of cinema, while The Way of Water took everything I adored to another level both emotionally and visually, still being an essential staple of my core beliefs of the cinematic medium. Fire and Ash, while gorgeous and gripping, doesn’t push the world forward as much as I hoped. We get new tribes and new corners of Pandora, but some beats feel familiar. The villain, despite being incredible, gets sidelined at points for yet another Sky People conflict, a story thread we’ve basically watched three times over now. Though Quaritch has a new motivation, the military and corporate heads are still as uninteresting as they were in 2009.

But even with those minor qualms, James Cameron is a filmmaker I trust with my whole Na’vi heart. Every one of his movies is a nine-out-of-ten minimum for me, and Fire and Ash is no different. As the ideal demographic, I loved it. But I can’t deny a light mist of disappointment settling over the experience, not enough to dim the glow, just enough to notice. With all the hype around the ending of the franchise, the stakes, the promised heartbreak, Pandora feels surprisingly familiar, with so much more left in store to uncover and nowhere near its fitting conclusion of the Sully arc.

Fire and Ash is a cinematic triumph supported by out of this world visuals, a fiery performance by Chaplin, and an electrical theatrical experience. James Cameron remains that guy. After all, if there’s one thing Cameron will do without fail, it’s leave an audience satisfied.

9/10