James Cameron’s Avatar: The Way of Water is an exhilarating sequel worth the wait

A family man must defend his loved ones against a powerful enemy. They take refuge among friends and establish new bonds; the hormonal teenagers hit on each other, the younger ones explore the new place with excitement, and the kids occasionally rebel against the adults. But the enemy is relentless and soon, the family must come together to confront him. 

This could be the plot of just about any movie. It’s not particularly original, and Hollywood has mounted thinly plotted, lavish productions on the ‘families stick together’ trope way too often. But in James Cameron’s hands, this familiar old wine transforms into a jaw-dropping, exhilarating cinematic experience. The first film in the franchise was released back in 2009 and yet, Cameron does not waste much time explaining what happened in Avatar (2009). He expects the audience to know – that takes audacity and this director has plenty of it.

The singular achievement of Avatar was to make us root for an alien species over our own kind. The Na’vi of Pandora, a habitable moon in the Alpha Centauri system, is 10 feet tall and blue-skinned. They look and behave like cats, with their glowing eyes, slow blinks, and hisses (the film was shot in motion capture). They are pitted against the ‘Sky People’ – human beings from Earth who want to take over Pandora because their own planet is dying. And yet, our sympathies are with the Na’vi because the science fiction on screen has many parallels in human history. 

When the second film opens, ex-Marine and now Na’vi chief Jake Sully (Sam Worthington)  and his fierce Na’vi mate Neytiri (Zoe Saldana) are parents to four children – Neteyam (Jamie Flatters), Lo’ak (Britain Dalton), Kiri (Sigourney Weaver), and Tuk (Trinity Jo-Li Bliss). Cameron deftly establishes the characters and the world of Pandora. The Na’vi speak a different language, but Sully, who is now one of them, says that it might as well be English since he understands it so well. It’s a clever narrative device to tell the story in English while preserving the illusion that the Na’vi are speaking in their native tongue. 

Arch villain Colonel Miles Quaritch (Stephen Lang) from the first film is now an avatar, his human form having been destroyed by the Na’vi. He’s thrusting for revenge and wants to make the Sully family pay. Jake decides to flee with his family to the land of the Metkayina, the reef people, though Neytiri thinks they must stand their ground and fight back. That’s why the sequel is called ‘The Way of Water’. The Na’vi, who belong in the forest, must now learn how to live in the water. 

There is a lot of blue on the screen, and it is so beautiful, soothing, and mesmerising that it feels like lucid dreaming. Bioluminescent sea creatures swimming calmly underwater, awe-inspiring visuals of swirling water, the ikran with their flamboyant wings flying over the land and ocean, along with a background score that elevates it even more – the 3D isn’t gimmicky. It makes for an immersive, therapeutic experience. Pretty, pretty, pretty.

Cameron keeps the characters and the conflicts in their arc simple – there isn’t room for grey in all the blue. Neteyam is the oldest and the most responsible; Lo’ak is a rebel who wants to prove himself to his family; Kiri’s biological mother is the human scientist Grace and she is worried that she doesn’t belong; Tuk is tiny and cute, tugging at our heartstrings every now and then with her too-big eyes. Then there’s Spider (Jack Champion), a human child who lives among the Na’vi and has to face a difficult choice when the time comes. Jake and Neytiri are much the same as they were in the first film, though a part of me kept thinking she would have made a much better chief (I mean, Jake takes a long time to come to the same realisation that Neytiri has right away…we could have skipped to Part 3 if he’d just bowed to her wisdom). The stereotypical plotting of the boys going to war and the girls getting trapped over and over again is also quite tiresome. 

The character design of the reef people is lovely. They are similar to the Na’vi but with adaptations that help them live in the water. Kate Winslet as Ronal, the chief’s mate, is wonderful, especially in the scene when the Na’vi arrive in their land. Sometimes, the film feels like an extensive and painstakingly put-together tourist package of the Maldives, but you don’t mind because it is also so PRETTY – there’s that word again, in capitals! 

You’re so sold into this tranquil world that when the ugly humans arrive with their ugly guns, you heartily wish for the species to perish. Ironically, the reason we’re able to relate so much to these characters is because they’re anthropomorphic. Even the Tulkun, the sea creatures that look like a cross between a whale and a dolphin, have identifiable human characteristics and Cameron places them in dramatic events that speak to a life we know– a mother trying to save her baby; an underdog rising to the occasion to save his clan (this sequence is so filmy, so satisfying, that the non-existent Tulkun prompted many in the audience to clap and whistle).  

Though ‘Pandora’ is from Greek mythology, Avatar takes a few inspirations from Hindu mythology too. The title itself is a Sanskrit word that means ‘descent’ (an incarnation), and the sequel brings in the idea of ‘amrita’ or the elixir of immortality that was churned out from the depths of the ocean. In the film, it is extracted from the Tulkun – the reason why humans hunt them. Much like the first film, the sequel offers a commentary on the entitlement of humans over natural resources; their selfishness and greed; the brutality of war and colonialism (there is also a hint about how common rape is in such situations); and their sheer disrespect towards other forms and ways of life. Yes, we know all this. It’s in the textbooks, it’s in the newspaper, it’s on TV. It’s so omnipresent that we cannot bring ourselves to respond to it in any meaningful way or imagine any other kind of life. Avatar’s success lies in presenting that world of possibility with so much conviction and daring. 

There are highs and lows in the screenplay, but it never gets boring. The film just looks so glorious all the time that you can’t tear your eyes away from it despite the lengthy runtime of 3 hours and 12 minutes. A sequel worth the thirteen-year wait.

Sowmya Rajendran writes on gender, culture, and cinema. She has written over 25 books, including a nonfiction book on gender for adolescents. She was awarded the Sahitya Akademi’s Bal Sahitya Puraskar for her novel Mayil Will Not Be Quiet in 2015.

Disclaimer: This review was not paid for or commissioned by anyone associated with the film. Neither TNM nor any of its reviewers have any sort of business relationship with the film’s producers or any other members of its cast and crew.