This afternoon, I saw Avatar. Finally. Tomorrow is its last day on the IMAX screen. I like cutting it close.
I trust most of you have seen it, so I won’t recap. I won’t even make the Pocahontas-meets-Smurfs-meets-FernGully jokes. You know what I’m talking about. Chuckle to yourselves and then read on….
It was gorgeous. A visual dessert buffet. So good. And honestly, I didn’t take issue with the straightforward-if-obvious story. The eye candy overwhelmed; I didn’t need a complicated, twisted plot to keep my attention.
But something was missing.
I like simple love stories. I’m wired to care about the against-all-odds, Romeo-sighs-over-Juliet fairytales. And I’m not sure if I should be blaming the words or the blueness, but I couldn’t connect with Avatar’s plot on a gut level. As brilliant as Zoe Saldana and Sam Worthington were (I’m serious), something didn’t sit right. Incompleteness. Emptiness behind the non-human eyes.
I caught myself thinking, “This sure isn’t District 9.” That movie made me ache. Not Avatar. The movie UP! made me cry. This didn’t.
Avatar is a filmmaking marvel. But it won’t change how I think about story. I’d still prefer the suckerpunch of an honest (500) Days of Summer over the spectacle of really skinny half-dressed Navis with magical hair riding mythical beasts.
Still, it was beautiful. Really.
I applaud James Cameron for bringing his almost-impossible vision to the screen. And I won’t cry if he takes the Oscar on Sunday. Although I’d prefer that his ex does. (Go Kathryn!)
But I’d rather watch Titanic. In that epic, Cameron gave me something concrete to hold onto. And by “concrete,” I mean “sharp and icy…and unforgettable.”
P.S. Sigourney Weaver forgot to be awesome. But Giovanni Ribisi was fantastic. Total mixed bag when it came to the supporting cast’s acting efforts. I can’t separate acting from story, or story from pretty pictures. So if Michelle Rodriguez’s performance makes me want to punch her in the face, it hurts the “look at that!” experience. Why is she in movies?
P.P.S. I just realized that I didn’t talk about the non-subtle pro-environment message in the film. I probably subconsciously hate the planet, right?
{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }
Nadine,
Clearly you have plebeian tastes. It’s a mark of sophistication to love skinny half-naked alien babes, riding mythical beasts. Would it be weird if I said I hope to be a centaur when I grow up?
If not, this is what I envision: http://www.imaginistix.com/images/centaur_image2.jpg
P.s. Don’t make him angry, or he’ll be forced to use his skull swords on you.
Weird? Maybe? Would I risk making you angry just to see the skull swords in actions? Another maybe.
I just want to have sophisticated tastes when I grow up….