Review: Avatar: Fire and Ash

The third of James Cameron's Avatar movies is pretty much the story of Spider (Jack Champion), the sole human member of the Sully family currently on the run on the planet of Pandora. Other characters are often in the spotlight: some, like Colonel Quaritch (Stephen Nash), reincarnated in a Pandorian body but still firmly committed to the human military and his need for revenge against Jake (Sam Worthington), even get some character development. 

But it's Spider who's story is being told here. Which is a problem, because who really cares about Spider?

After their big victory at the end of the last movie, the Sully family is still grieving the loss of eldest son Neteyam (Jamie Flatters). Neytiri (Zoe Salanda) follows the old rituals; Jake is more of a "stoic silence" guy. Both agree that now Quaritch knows that Spider is his son he'll be back, and they decide to send Spider back to the rebel human base in high country (a floating rock) for his safety. 

Spider, sensing this is more about them wanting to ditch an unwanted "pink skin" human, protests, and his adopted siblings - brother Lo'ak (Britain Dalton), younger sister Tuktirey (Trinity Bliss), and clone of Sigourney Weaver's character from the first film played by Sigourney Weaver Kiri - demand the family stick together. Okay then, they'll all go.

Their trip back on a living blimp boat is quickly cut short when they're attacked by Mangkwan raiders. The blimp is shot down, Neytiri is wounded, the family is scattered, and Spider - who's been slack about making sure he's got a spare mask with him, which is important because humans can't breathe Pandorian air - soon finds himself gasping for air with no supplies at hand. Kiri calls on the planet's spirit Eywa for help, then sorts it out herself with a kind of symbiotic growth that fills his lungs.

One problem solved, but now there's a bigger one. If humans find a way to breathe the air, they'll see Pandora as more than just a source of the space whale juice that makes people immortal. Now Spider is the most valuable item on the planet, and his father - that'd be Quaritch - has just teamed up with the Mangkwan raiders and their witchy leader Varang (Oona Chaplin) to get him back.

They're the only new element here, and unlike previous depictions of Na'vi they've turned their back on Eywa thanks to a volcano trashing their homeland a generation ago. They're mostly just creepy and murderous rather than a new way of living, and there's a sense that Cameron - who previously seemed obsessed with every tiny aspect of life on his fantasy planet - just needed some new bad guys to spice things up.

(which they definitely do for Quaritch: his exploration of the possibilities of a closer bond with the dominating Varang, combined with what seems to be actual concern and admiration for his human son, rapidly makes him easily the most nuanced and interesting character in the film)

There's a lot more going on here, most notably Lo'ak and his mates swimming around with the space whales trying to help whale Payakan on his mission of vengeance against the humans (his culture is a pacifist one, so his kill-crazy rampage has him on the outs). Unfortunately, this stuff largely feels like a retread of the events of the previous film; where the first stood alone, and the second built on that with Cameron's underwater obsession, this mostly circles back to revisit old territory while the characters struggle to deal with what's already happened.

All the virtues of the previous Avatar films are still present, though the originally ground breaking CGI visuals are maybe a little more mainstream these days. Cameron is still strong when it comes to action; the story might hit many of the same beats but it still moves fast, and there's plenty of lingering around to take in the wonders of Pandora (though ironically, it's mostly when the action shifts to the human's industrial plant base that things pick up).

Focusing the story on a nothing character like Spider would be more of a weak point if not for the fact that strong compelling characters aren't really this franchise's strength. As someone situated between both worlds / sides (Jake picked his side a long time ago), Spider is both macguffin to be fought over and the big hope as far as bringing the two cultures together - only the humans are almost all bad (the scientists are largely sidelined this time around), so dumping them in the bin is the popular choice.

The only serious problem, which will probably seem like less of one in the future when audiences are watching these films back-to-back, is that for the first time an Avatar movie isn't a parade of new situations and wonders. It's the kind of story that escalates rather than innovates.

For once, Pandora doesn't seem like a place where there's something new around every corner. Even the most magical getaway eventually loses its luster.

- Anthony Morris 

Review: Ella McCay

There's a long-ish scene towards the end of Ella McCay that doesn't really have anything to do with what the film is about - though to be fair, as it's pretty hard to figure out exactly what Ella McCay actually is about, it's not quite as disruptive as it might have been.

It involves Casey McCay (Spike Fearn), socially awkward brother of Ella (Emma Mackey), trying to win back a girlfriend he semi-accidentally dumped months ago (he wanted to take the relationship to the next level, she was cautious, he took her caution as an outright refusal and only now has realised that maybe they could have just kept on going).

What makes this scene watchable is that we have no idea why it's here or where it's going. Casey is not the central character of this film, and as far as we know his relationship is not essential to the plot. "What's going to happen next?" is a pretty good way to keep people watching, especially when you have no idea how the scene will end or how it will tie into the main events.

How it ends is like this: a character gives a long and convincing argument for behaving in one way, then they immediately act in the opposite way and say something like "I really didn't think I was going to do that". Not exactly a satisfying turn of events, especially as this is basically the final appearance of both of them. It turns out this scene does not tie into the main story in any way shape or form; keep that confused expression, you'll need it for later. 

Set in 2008, Ella McCay is a screwball comedy set against a backdrop of American (state) politics, which is why it's set in 2008 as we're told that was a time before Americans hated each other. Presumably the target audience doesn't remember 9/11 or the War on Terror; writer / director James L Brooks, who is in his mid 80s, has less of an excuse.

McCay is a 34 year old who just loves extremely boring policy, which is why she's only the Lieutenant Governor and the far more charming and personable Governor Bill (Albert Brooks) is the Governor. Only he's off to take up an appointment in Obama's cabinet, which means she'll be running the state for the next few years. Uh oh.

Here's hoping her administration doesn't almost instantly implode thanks to an amazingly minor sex scandal (she was having lunchtime hook-ups with her husband in an abandoned but still government-owned apartment) and the fact the aforementioned loving husband Ryan (Jack Lowden) suddenly decides he should be seen as more of a, you know, co-governor, and is willing to blow up his marriage in a clumsy power-grab.

McCay also has a sleazy father (Woody Harrelson), a high-strung aunt (Jamie Lee Curtis), and the aforementioned brother, all of whom add stress to her life without actually having much to do with the story. But as the story is - and this can't be stressed enough - extremely all over the place, it's not until the final few scenes that it becomes clear that they aren't suddenly going to become relevant.

So what is relevant here? The whole thing is pitched at a level where it's difficult to know what to focus on, which is possibly a strength as nothing here is worth your full attention. 

Major twists come out of nowhere: Ryan turning into a dick, almost everything involving Casey. Seemingly major characters just fade away: see Ella's driver Trooper Nash (Kumail Nanjiani). There are a few funny jokes, but not enough to make this worthwhile as a comedy.

Pretty much the only thing for sure here is that we should pay attention to Ella McCay. And that's mostly because the movie is named after her.

- Anthony Morris 

 

 

Review: Eternity

While the idea of the afterlife as a bureaucratic nightmare is one that keeps on giving, Eternity's riff is a uniquely individualistic one: after you die, you get seven days in a kind of beyond-the-grave convention center to pick the ideal afterlife for you. Once you choose, that's it: no going back.

For a romantic comedy, it's kind of a grim set-up. Unless your loved one dies at the same time - good news for car crash fatalities, presumably - there's pretty much zero chance of spending eternity together. Maybe whoever designed it (in this afterlife it's a bureaucracy all the way up) figured that, as no love could last forever, it was better to pull the band-aid off right at the start. Shame they didn't tell Luke (Callum Turner) that.

For Larry and Joan, living out a slow-driving retirement, Luke is just a faded sepia photograph of someone who died in the war (multiple jokes are made about how the Korean War is not really "the war"). But when Larry chokes on a pretzel at a gender reveal party, he wakes up dead, forty years younger (now Miles Teller), and in an afterlife where his "AC" (afterlife counselor) Anna (Da'Vine Joy Randolph) is pointing him at an exit.

He learns a few things - yes, you can stick around if you're willing to take on a menial gig; no, you can't leave a message behind for your loved one - and with the deadline looming he's got no choice but to cross his fingers and hope Joan can just guess where he's gone and follow... until she (now Elizabeth Olsen) also turns up. Chalk up a win for cancer.

Just one catch: friendly bartender Luke is also the Luke that Joan loved and married way, way back... before he died in the war. He waited for her, and now they can finally have the life together they dreamed of. Bad news for Larry, but he'll get over 65 years of marriage soon enough, right?

The backdrop here is fine for a bunch of throwaway jokes about the various eternities, but it's obviously constructed nature is a little distracting. The various rules largely seem designed to throw obstacles in the way of this particular trio; there doesn't need to be a good reason why you're stuck in the afterlife you choose for all eternity, there just needs to be a reason.

Fortunately the central dilemma plays out well, despite a slow stretch in the middle where Joan gets to try out a future with one then the other. Fun performances from all three don't exactly hurt; it's the kind of story where there's no bad guys, just someone destined to miss out. 

Teller is the standout, constantly channeling an old man while retaining (regaining?) his youth, while Turner's dreamboat facade constantly cracks to reveal little humanising details. Olsen has strong chemistry with both - though that chemistry takes different forms, which is kind of the point of the whole thing.

Attractive people struggling with love is pretty much always a winner so long as you don't screw it up; despite always taking its ridiculous premise seriously, Eternity has a bubbly sense of humour that manages to breath a little life into love after death.

- Anthony Morris