Since the 2009 release of filmmaker James Cameron’s Avatar, audiences have been invited to explore the world of Pandora via video games, books, music, art, and a 2022 sequel, The Way of Water. These two films have broken box office records and captivated audiences in large part due to Cameron’s technical approach which uses motion capture and extensive digital performance via Wētā Workshop to transform the all-too Terran actors into the native people of Pandora and others within the world they inhabit. Now, audiences are invited to return once more in a third outing subtitled Fire and Ash which carries forward the narrative threads and themes of The Way of Water to their next logical step while simultaneously retreading areas or recreating moments previously experienced. This may be because Fire and Ash is as much an exploration of grief as it is the cycles we find ourselves in which we cannot break, but it ultimately leaves one dissatisfied when the theatrical ride is over.
L-R: Zoe Saldaña as Neytiri and Sam Worthington as Jake Sully in 20th Century Studios’ AVATAR: FIRE AND ASH. Photo courtesy of 20th Century Studios. © 2025 20th Century Studios. All Rights Reserved.
Since the last attack from the RDA, the Sully family continues to reside with the Metkayina clan and struggle with the death of their eldest son, Neteyam (Jamie Flatters). The once tight unit is drifting as each processes their grief differently, though never really talking about it, all while knowing that the RDA could return at any moment, once more putting a Recombinant version of Colonel Quaritch (Stephen Lang) on their trail. With this in mind, as well as the continued risk of keeping Spider (Jack Champion), Quaritch’s son, with them, Jake and Neytiri (Sam Worthington and Zoe Saldaña, respectively) decide to send Spider back to live with the scientists living amid their Omatikaya clan, but this choice comes with an unexpected consequence as their journey is interrupted by the Mangkwan, a violent clan led by Varang (Oona Chaplin), who see the tools of the Sully family as the way to expand their dominion over all Na’vi people.
Oona Chaplin as Varang in 20th Century Studios’ AVATAR: FIRE AND ASH. Photo courtesy of 20th Century Studios. © 2025 20th Century Studios. All Rights Reserved.
A brief admission as it may help to be aware of perspective: this is the first Avatar film I’ve seen in theaters. While curious about the initial film, 2009 was a tumultuous year and I didn’t get around to watching it until the 4K UHD home release. The film did little to match the mostly-universal praise it received, but that’s not particularly uncommon, so I made sure to screen The Way of Water ahead of the Dolby 3D screening for Fire and Ash. Unfortunately, having seen the sequels now, I can confirm that these films are not for me in the slightest. I’ll get into this more below, but wanted to set the stage as context does matter.
The script by James Cameron (Titanic; True Lies), Rick Jaffa (Jurassic World; Rise of the Planet of the Apes), and Amanda Silver (Jurassic World; Rise of the Planet of the Apes), based on a story by Cameron, Jaffa, Silver, Josh Friedman (Chain Reaction; Terminator Dark Fate), and Shane Salerno (Avatar: The Way of Water; Shaft (2000)), directly continues the events of The Way of Water rather than time-jumping as the previous sequel did and it’s the best possible decision. It’s so easy in times of joy to minimize or roll along with the things that bother you, but grief has a way of amplifying things so that a minor transgression can prove to be fatal if not addressed. Here, it’s presented in the form of two primary characters — Neytiri and Varang. For the former, her grief turns to regret and anger as she processes not only the loss of her son by the RDA, but the continued isolation from her own people. She’s able to participate in some of the traditions of her clan, but is constantly reminded of her own otherness whether in the presence of her husband, her children (adopted or not), and the people of the Metkayina clan. This festering sense of isolation drives a wedge between herself and Jake, but also forces her to confront her own somewhat unexpected xenophobia. By contrast, there’s Varang whose brief backstory speaks to a perceived betrayal of Eywa, the All Mother spiritual god of the Na’vi. This led her to embrace fire, to cover herself and her people in its ash, and to cover her pain by causing pain to others — which she does specifically by using her neural queue, a physical cord which enables the Na’vi to connect to other living things on the planet and the various spiritual representations of Eywa, as a torture device and means of control. The film doesn’t allow for as much time or deep exploration of Varang, opting instead to connect her narrative path with Quaritch in an enemy-of-my-enemy-is-my-friend trope which does allow for some successful short-handing; however, it also makes the once fearsome Varang a side character to Quaritch in almost the same way Neytiri becomes to Jake. The rage of these warriors creates the necessary tinder for Fire and Ashes’s emotional core and rather than using these two to deeply explore the corruption of unsupported grief, the script opts to rekindle narrative threads thought resolved or arcs presumed addressed.
Here, though, is where one can’t tell if the repetition is intentional or a sign of steam leaving the series. This can most easily be expressed by the use of Recombinants. These characters are the dead returned to fight in new forms with a saved version of memory implanted within them. This is a fascinating statement on the RDA as late-stage capitalist assholes from which death doesn’t save you from slavery, especially because Quaritch primarily sees himself as a Company Man for the military, completely accepting as being meat for the grinder as long as he gets to kill Sully. But while this subtext is interesting, it’s mostly used as a means to continue using the charismatic Lang as antagonist to Worthington’s Sully. As such, it also means that, like before, Sully seeks to convince Quaritch that now being part Na’vi means he should be able to “see” Pandora differently and that putting down his desire for vengeance will enable him to exist in a way he could never imagine as a soldier in the Marines. Here, this could be meant as a mirror of the Neytiri/Varang storyline, yet, by being so similar to its use in Way of Water, it feels redundant instead of intellectually or emotionally compelling. If the intention is to speak to the constant process of forgiving, of choosing fights worth fighting, and acknowledging that molding swords into plowshares (and vice versa) is a necessary part of survival, it’s subtext that’s buried so deeply that the potential profundity is as ephemeral as Eywa’s existence on our plane of reality. Frustration grows ever further because there’s a fascinating notion of the Sully/Quaritch dynamic as it relates to the cycle of life and death and the fact that Sully lives his single life trying to escape cycles of violence while enriching his life and finding balance, whereas Quaritch (now as a Recombinant) essentially regresses each time he dies back to the saved point from which these new experiences aren’t preserved, making his entire existence stuck in the same form without growth. Through the use of Spider, glimmers of a good man, someone who understands what truly matters, do shine through; however, between the insistence for Quaritch to stay stuck and remain the antagonist for these stories and the redundant use of Spider (why this kid trusts *anyone* is beyond me), the overall narrative is given a sense of repetition and regression. These two narrative threads, Neytiri/Varang and Sully/Quaritch, should be compelling and an emotional powerhouse, but the biggest emotional moments come from the continuance of the narrative components featuring the Tulkan known as Payakan, which ends up delivering the real gut punches compared to the relentless bickering of the adults.
Again, this all may be part of the point, but it’s hard to tell right now and it, therefore, weighs down all the good — performatively or technologically.
Speaking of, because the Avatar series is a big deal for some audiences and the theatrical experience is going to be the best way to see it, allow me to offer thoughts on the Dolby 3D experience provided by 20th Century Studios for this review. On that end, it’s a bit of a mixed bag. There’s incredible immersion in most sequences as the shifted depth of field offers increased depth perception that turns a scene of two Na’vi flying the mountain banshees known as ikran into an amusement park ride. The same when characters are within the reef of the Metkayina clan and are swimming with the marine lifeforms. It’s really only when Spider (or another human character) is present with digital characters where the plane of reality feels broken and it’s more obvious that Champion is interacting with digital creations. A few times — and this was obvious enough for several members of the press audience to notice — the refresh rate grew unsteady to the point where movements of the characters became so awkward and unnatural that it removed the viewer from the imaginative and immersive world. For a premiere experience when prices are high and going out for a group of four can result in a three-figure price tag, 3D may not be worth the investment with it being as janky and laggy as an overworked data stream at home. The Dolby screen and sound, however, didn’t disappoint with the larger size of the screen inviting audiences to immerse themselves in this fantasy.
L-R; Jack Champion as Miles ‘Spider’ Socorro, Britain Dalton as Lo’ak, Trinity Jo-Li Bliss as Tuk, and Sigourney Weaver as Kiri in 20th Century Studios’ AVATAR: FIRE AND ASH. Photo courtesy of 20th Century Studios. © 2025 20th Century Studios. All Rights Reserved.
There’s no shame in ever pointing out that a film or franchise is not for you. After three Avatar films, I can conclusively state that I’d be ok being done here. It’s not that all the stories are wrapped as they are decidedly not and this film raises the kinds of questions I’m not sure another two or three titles could aptly answer (and I say this as a devout Matrix fan), it’s that outside of some curiosity over where things go for Spider, Kiri (Sigourney Weaver), Lo’ak (Britain Dalton) — the Sully children, essentially — the rest seems too rooted in repetition to be interesting. Especially as this film most poignantly makes an argument for the significance of fighting back against colonization, even when it butts against pacifist principles, I can’t imagine the narrative lessons in the future films will dig deeper than this when, based on the three blockbuster finales delivered thus far, all the franchise and audience want is ”big bang/bad guy go boom”.
It is what it is, and what it is, is not for me.
In theaters December 19th, 2025.
For more information, head to the official 20th Century Studios Avatar: Fire and Ash webpage.
Final Score: 3 out of 5.
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Categories: In Theaters, Reviews
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