ALIENS UNCOVERED: THE GOLDEN RECORD

Writer/Director: Clive Christopher

Rating: ★ ★

The latest polished piece of wildly speculative UFO gibber from showman theorist Clive Christopher is more of the same from the media mini-mogul, who's The All Tales Channel and previous ‘Aliens Uncovered’ pics hue to the style guide he employs here. There is no denying his earnest approach to the eternally-popular E.T. mystery is eminently watchable, but the Arizona-based filmmaker takes some big swings here that don’t often connect. 

A not-entirely cohesive potpourri of pseudo-scientific conjecture, public domain sound-bites, eyewitness accounts and staged dramatics, Christopher takes the 1977 launch of deep-space probe Voyager that contained ‘The Golden Record’, a collection of planet-defining facts that were known as The Sounds of Earth. If you’ve seen John Carpenter’s Starman (if you’ve read this far, I’m assuming you have), you’ll recall Jeff Bridges reciting The Rolling Stones’ lyric, “I can't get no. Satisfaction”, a pop-culture snippet he learned from Voyager’s shiny disc. 

In his opening salvo of fast, fun factoids, the director conjures a conspiratorial web that ties together ex-presidents Jimmy Carter and George Bush, iconic astronomer Carl Sagan and the CIA, among other disparate elements, none of which sticks the landing. Dropping in dog-whistle doozies like ‘deep web’ as if the very mention makes them real is counterproductive to inspiring belief amongst all but the most feverish UAP gawkers. 

The mid-section mostly resembles one of those paranormal podcasts whose listeners (i.e., me) will gravitate towards films like The Golden Record, but with pictures. Christopher recounts oft-told stories using already-well circulated recordings, like the weather watcher who tracked lights over Lake Michigan in the mid-90s and the connection between UFOs, comets and the horrible history of the Heaven’s Gate cult. It all amounts to old news being repackaged for a new audience, which is fine, but…you know, old. 

The Golden Record then begins to touch on The Phoenix Lights, one of ufology’s most famous sighting incidents, but pulls up short so as not to pop the weather balloon that will be  Clive Christopher’s next film. Maybe that film will bring full-circle the tidal wave of “What-if”-isms that the director originally posed here, because nothing about how The Golden Record ends references how The Golden Record begins.

ALIENS UNCOVERED: THE GOLDEN RECORD is on selected US V.O.D. channels from July 4. 

MOOMINVALLEY: SEASON 3, EPISODES 4, 8, 12

Voice Cast: Taron Edgerton, Rosamund Pike, Warwick Davis, Bel Powley, Matt Berry, Jack Rowan, Chance Perdomo, Edvin Endre and Jennifer Saunders.
Writers: Josie Day, Mark Huckerby, Nick Ostler, Paula Dinan; based on characters created by Tove Jansson.
Director: Darren Robbie.

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★

 Screening at the 2023 Children’s International Film Festival from May 27 in Sydney and Melbourne.

Finnish author Tove Jansson’s sweet and heartfelt Moomins family adventures have entranced European audiences since they were first published in 1945 in the picture book, ‘The Moomins and the Great Flood’. The fairy-tale existence that Jansson envisioned for her creations - a rustic, rural life in a wooded valley, surrounded by fantasy forest denizens and towering, frosted Alpine peaks - has reached iconic status in the Scandi states, and is increasingly adored abroad.

Having conquered family markets internationally over their eight delightful decades (including a 1974 opera, a 1990 animated series that sold to 60 countries, and theme parks in Finland and Japan), the latest incarnation of the Moomins adventures is Moominvalley, the 2019 animated series now in its third season. Three English-dubbed episodes will have their Australian Premiere at the 2023 Children’s International Film Festival, satiating the small but burgeoning Australian fanbase.     

The first of the three 22-minute original narratives is ‘Inventing Snork’, in which cheeky pre-teen Moomintroll (revoiced by Taron Edgerton) tries to help the socially-awkward Snork better understand the value of friendship through compassion. The thematic throughline is accepting people for who they are, a familiar humanistic beat in Moomins’ storytelling. Rounding out the series is ‘Moominmamma's Flying Dream’, a sweet story in which Moominmamma's love of hot air ballooning is rekindled by her son, only for everyone to reach the conclusion that the joys of family is life’s greatest adventure. 

The best of the trio is the middle episode, ‘Lonely Mountain’. Moomintroll cancels his hibernation to find his best friend Snufkin, who has ventured deep into the mysterious Lonely Mountains for some meditative solitude. Moomintroll misses his friend and acts on that self-focussed longing, not realising that Snufkin’s time away helps make him the special friend he is. The range of complex emotions explored in the scenes between Moomintroll and Snufkin is terrific character-driven animation; the grandeur of the region and the harsh realities of both the wintry outdoors and growing up are beautifully realised.

In the three episodes programmed for the festival, we get a good indication as to why the Moomins have remained one of Finland's most beloved exports and Tove Jansson’s exalted status as a teller of meaningful fantasy tales is etched deeply in European culture. The Moomins speak to the profound truths in family life, steeped in the beautiful colours of their homeland and the vivid world of the imagination.

HUNGER

Stars Chutimon Chuengcharoensukying, Nopachai Jayanama and Gunn Svasti Na Ayudhya
Writer: Kongdej Jaturanrasamee
Director: Sitisiri Mongkolsiri

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ½

The Hunger of the title is a double-edged kitchen knife in director Sitisiri Mongkolsiri’s cutting, often bittersweet piece of high society takedown. Set in the ostentatious world of ultra artistic fine dining, Hunger speaks of the craving in us all to consume food prepared in a way far more elegantly than being easily digestible requires. This is food as art, and art that carries with it all the emotions, anxieties and eccentricities of the artist.

Hunger is also about craving a status above the social standing into which you are born, an existence that demands thin slivers of your soul be trimmed away to climb above those just like to secure a place amongst the wealthy but grotesquely compromised humans that appear to you to be better…somehow.

Chutimon Chuengcharoensukying plays Aoy, a talented young street chef at her family’s Thai noodle cafe. She discovers what she didn’t know she wanted when a scout for an elite food prep outfit slips her a card emboldened with the word ‘Hunger’. It’s a ticket to the world of Chef Paul’s kitchen; Paul, played with a fierce intensity by Nopachai Chaiyanam, likes her street-food touch, and starts breaking her down so he can build her up in his image (like JK Simmons did to Miles Teller in Whiplash).

Soon, Aoy is letting the family values upon which she was raised slide and the allure of attaining a certain type of ‘special’ social place is taking hold. Paul has long slipped into the amoral world of corruption, wearing the arrogance of existing above the law like a badge. Hunger spirals with an increasing unease towards one of two potential endings - a huge fall from grace, or a moralistic realisation to be careful what you wish for.

Hunger feels a bit overlong, but that only raises the question of what to omit, and that is not easy to answer. It plays equally convincingly as both a large-scale takedown of the vacuous, soulless upper class Bangkok society types, or as a more intimate character duel between Aoy and Paul, with her very humanity at stake. And, of course, it is an absolute feast for food lovers, whether you prefer the noodle cafe nosh or the food-as-art high dining plates.

CHRISSY JUDY

Stars: Todd Flaherty, Wyatt Fenner, Joey Taranto, Kiyon Spencer, James Tison, Nicole Spiezio, João Pedro Santos and Olivia Oguma.
Writer/Director: Todd Flaherty.

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★

A drag performer faces an uncertain future on all existential fronts in Todd Flaherty’s endearing comedy/drama, Chrissy Judy. A major achievement for the multi-hyphenate, who not only gives a charming, star-making lead turn but also wrote, directed and edited this bittersweet slice of gay modern life, this 2022 festival favourite is a big-hearted examination of friendship and community wrapped in a classic show business narrative.

A dashing screen presence, Flaherty plays ‘Judy’, one half of the performance duo ‘Chrissy Judy’, a drag act that once held promise but has been floundering as gigs grow smaller and audiences less appreciative. Wyatt Fenner matches Flaherty’s charisma as ‘Chrissy’, now nearing thirty and increasingly focussed on emotional and financial stability over stardom-chasing pipedreams. 

Once inseparable as friends, Chrissy and Judy are drifting apart; at a Fyre Island beach house with their committed friends, the strain that different life directions is taking on their bond begins to show. Soon, Chrissy departs to start a new life in Philadelphia with his on-off partner Shawn (Kiyon Spencer), leaving Judy on his downward professional spiral and struggling to fill the void left in his emotional fabric by Chrissy’s absence.

Flaherty sets his film up as a classic New York City romance; the stunning black & white lensing by Brendan Flaherty invokes the spirit of Woody Allen’s Manhattan and, for younger auds, Noah Baumbach’s Frances Ha. It is a mood that keeps Judy’s (or James, revealed in a moment of tenderness) journey buoyant, but shaded in dark greys; he reconnects with past acquaintances and instigates doomed flings to try to find new meaning in life, only for the emptiness to become more and more apparent.

The fulfilling tenderness of the gay lifestyle, or the showbiz community, or the family unit are all explored in Flaherty’s effortlessly affecting script, but it is ultimately Judy’s re-evaluating of what defines him as a human that drives Chrissy Judy. LGBTIQA+ audiences will appreciate the knowing nods to the gay-specific life (including some occasionally frank language and sexual content), but Judy/James’ story is a universally recognisable one, and told with a degree of intelligence and empathy that is rare.

65

Stars: Adam Driver, Ariana Greenblatt, Chloe Coleman and Nika King.
Writers/Directors: Scott Beck and Bryan Woods.

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★

There was a filmgoing era, not that long ago (certainly not the 65 million years referenced here), when the dark shadow of ‘tentpole cinema’ did not loom so large as to dwarf films like 65. Films such as Christian Duguay’s Screamers (1995) or David Twohy’s Pitch Black (2000) were given time to breath during their release; they would build reputations as well-told, mid-tier sci fi action/thrillers with smart scripts and committed leads and grow appreciative audiences with word-of-mouth.

65 is that sort of film. Adam Driver (pictured, above) dons his ‘movie star/action hero’ hat as Mills, the pilot of a deep-space expedition craft that spectacularly crashes after straying into an uncharted asteroid belt. Gripped by survivor guilt, he is about to end it all when he learns one of the cryogenically frozen crew is still alive - teenage colonist Koa (Ariana Greenblatt; pictured, below). The pod they must launch to rendezvous with the rescue craft is 15 kilometres away; the terrain is prehistoric Earth, inhabited by the great, snarly thunder lizards of yore.       

It is a cracking premise upon which to build some old school Hollywood thrills, and that is what co-directors Scott Beck and Bryan Woods pull off with their feature debut; they earned the keys to the studio coffers after their script for A Quiet Place hit big. 65 is a similarly lean but skilfully realised genre exercise; a two-hander that is emotionally bolstered by Mill’s longing for his terminally-ill daughter, Nevine (Chloe Coleman) and Koa coming to terms with the loss of her parents in the crash.

If the forced-together father/daughter psychological complexity of The Last of Us has you in its grip, you’ll likely draw comparisons with the HBO hit series; the handful of hardcore sci-fi fans who also saw Pedro Pascal and Sophie Thatcher in Christopher Caldwell and Zeek Earl’s Prospect (2018) will nod knowingly, too . The emergence of Ellen Ripley’s maternal streak alongside Newt in James Cameron’s Aliens (1986) is another clear influence. The ‘ticking clock’ device that Beck and Woods employs is legitimately nail-biting and spectacularly envisioned, offering an element of inventiveness in a film that sometimes wears its influences a bit too prominently on its spacesuit sleeves. 

With Driver earning above-the-title credit and the high-concept ‘dinosaurs-vs-rayguns’ narrative recalling event films like Jurassic Park or Starship Troopers, there is the expectation of commercial filmmaking grandeur about 65. If that’s what you (or the studio) was expecting, that’s not this film; 65 is a taut 93 minutes of sweaty tension, appropriately scaled action and surprising tenderness. The modern film distribution model won’t allow 65 to find its most appreciative audience in its initial run, though it will certainly grow in cult stature.

SUMMONING THE SPIRIT

Stars: Krystal Millie Valdes, Ernesto Reyes, Jesse Tayeh, Isabelle Muthiah, Sean Sisson, Robin Magdhalen, Jasmine Sinclair, Lacy Todd, Jimmy Garcia, Bruce Jennings, Alan Burrell, Benta Fitzmorris and Lauren Lopez.
Writers: Zach Carter, Jon Garcia
Director: Jon Garcia

Reviewed at Miami Film Festival, March 6 2023.

Rating: ★ ★ ★

The legend of Bigfoot represents two base fears we have as humans - the threat posed by the alpha creatures with whom we share the planet, and what is left of the natural (or supernatural) world that we are yet to comprehend. And movies that feature The Great American Ape (or any of his/her global equivalents) usually reflect that; horror/thrillers about being stalked and/or attacked while trespassing on their terrain.

Jon Garcia’s Summoning the Spirit does not entirely jettison the elements that have largely defined ‘Sasq-ploitation Cinema’. His feature opens on two a-hole attention-seekers who have their dream of fighting their deliberately-lit forest fire brought to a big, hairy-fisted full-stop; by the end-credit roll, there has been skull-crunching and dismemberment aplenty. But with co-writer Zach Carter, Garcia also explores The Creature as one spiritually tied to not only its woodland surrounds but also a specifically human trait - empathy.

Carla (Krystal Milli Valdes) and Dean (Ernesto Reyes) have made the tree-change and relocated to a quiet country cabin. There, he plans to write and she plans to raise their expectant child. Tragedy strikes and grief lowers Carla’s defences; soon, she finds herself drawn into the world of a local cult-like group of barefoot chanters and hairwavers who claim a bond with the local cryptid - a hairy humanoid called Schwaniti, or ‘stick native’, who spends its waking hours wandering the woods in what appears to be a contemplative state, until its inner ‘drooling monster’ is called upon.

Garcia and Carter play with the group dynamics of the cult to varying degrees of insight. Dean butts heads with charismatic leader Arlo (Jesse Tayeh), while Carla is wooed by the hippy-dippy charms of the optimistic Celeste (a particularly strong Isabelle Muthiah). But the group’s relationship with the Bush Beast remains ‘mystical’ at best, vaguely ill-defined at worst, unlike Joe Dante’s 1981 werewolf classic The Howling, which found satire and scares in aligning new-age group-think with old-school horror tropes.

The narrative finds its surest footing in slow-boiling the bond between Carla, shattered after the loss of her unborn child, and the Sasquatch. The third act plays out with a satisfyingly ambiguous take on the maternal bond that unites woman and beast. The final frames put into perspective the corporeal ties that bind us all as animals, over the conjured fairytales of the cult’s organised and, ultimately, false faith. 

Summoning the Spirit does what it needs to as a creature feature to satiate monster-movie fans, yet also finds an emotional resonance likely to take many viewers here for genre thrills by surprise.

AVARICE

Stars: Gillian Alexy, Luke Ford, Nick Atkinson, Ryan Panizza, Alexandra Nell, Alexander Fleri, Tom O’Sullivan, Campbell Greenock, Priscilla-Anne Jacob and Téa Heathcote-Marks.
Writers: Adam Enslow , Dane Millerd, Andrew Slattery and John V. Soto.
Director: John V. Soto

Rating: ★ ★ ★

A rocky marriage finds some stabilising shared goals when faced with a brutal home invasion plot in John V. Soto’s slick, enjoyably compelling action/thriller, Avarice. The latest punchy piece of exportable genre entertainment from the Perth-based director delivers on the promise of his pics to date (The Gateway, 2018; The Reckoning, 2014; Needle, 2010); films that don’t reinvent the wheel but that do spin it with skill and energy.

A terrific Gillian Alexy stars as Kate, a top-tier archer with eyes on competition glory but who is also struggling to keep her marriage together. Similarly work focussed, her partner Ash (Luke Ford) is finding himself increasingly sidelined as Kate focusses on athletic goals, a disconnect that teen daughter Sarah (Téa Heathcote-Marks) is beginning to rebel against. Husband and wife decide that a weekend in their upmarket bushland retreat will perhaps positively refocus the family dynamic.

That begins to seem unlikely as a group of elite mercenaries seize control of the home with eyes on Ash’s hefty bank balance. Developments get very Die Hard-y, with Ash umming-and-ahhing about the codes that will complete the transfer, while Kate dons her trusty bow-and-arrow and begins whittling down the invader’s numbers. There are further twists in the narrative’s third act that will placate fans of the single-setting thriller, with Soto also channelling such influences as David Fincher’s Panic Room (2002) and Luis Mandoki’s underseen thriller Trapped (2002), with Charlize Theron.

The bad guys/girl ensemble are an attractively mean-spirited bunch, with Alexandra Nell and Ryan Panizza in particular upping the stakes through their snarling menace alone. Web nerds may get a bit giggly over the apparent ease with which a multi-million dollar account is accessed, but it isn't the first thriller to cut tech corners. The moments that Soto and his pro team of contributors make work - solid character acting, pacy action moments and arrow-on-antagonist payback - make Avarice another mid-budget milestone for the filmmaker.

TRUE SPIRIT

Stars: Teagan Croft, Cliff Curtis, Anna Paquin, Josh Lawson, Todd Lasance, Alyla Browne, Bridget Webb, Stacy Clausen and Freya Callaghan.
Writers: Rebecca Banner, Cathy Randall and Sarah Spillane; based on the book True Spirit: The Aussie Girl Who Took On The World by Jessica Watson
Director: Sarah Spillane.

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★

Since 2010, when the then 16 year-old defied every naysayer and some of the planet’s harshest conditions to become the youngest person to complete a solo, unassisted and non-stop trip around the world, Jessica Watson has remained a devout advocate for self-belief and goal-oriented living. Named the 2011 Young Australian of the Year, she has spent the best part of the last decade instilling in a generation of young people the will and drive to make dreams come true.

Director Sarah Spillane’s adaptation of Watson’s bestselling memoir instils a similarly aspirational tone, while hitting all the beats that those familiar with the adventurer’s journey will expect. With ace DOP Danny Ruhlmann in peak form, Spillane’s second feature (after 2013’s Around the Block, with Christina Ricci) exhibits a strong cinematic flair that demands you see True Spirit on the big screen, during its brief local theatrical window (it hits Netflix on February 3); a sequence against the night sky and set to Bowie’s ‘Starman’ is especially breathtaking. Her collaboration with Oscar-nominated editor Veronika Jenet (The Piano, 1993; Rabbit Proof Fence, 2002) is also top-tier, with the criss-crossing flashback/present day narratives meshing flawlessly.

As the sailor driven by a yearning to connect with the planet’s great watery expanse, Teagan Croft delivers a revelatory central performance. From the unshakeable realisation that the world’s oceans are her calling to the psychologically debilitating loneliness on becalmed seas to the life-threatening storm fronts that batter her physically, Croft embodies all that we have come to understand about the remarkable person that is Jessica Watson. It is a star-making turn for the young actress, whose potent screen appeal and ability to convey both fragility and fortitude in key moments represents a rare acting commodity.

Some dramatic licence is afforded the ‘family and friends’ support network that Watson drew upon before and during her voyage. Josh Lawson’s portrayal of father Roger Watson conveys a level of anxiety that has been tempered from the real-life version; the family patriarch was very vocally at odds with her daughter tackling the journey. A terrific Cliff Curtis plays Jessica’s spiritually-aligned mentor Ben Bryant, a wholly fictional construct by Spillane and co-writers Rebecca Banner and Cathy Randall that represents several guiding figures in the sailing community who helped prepare the teenager. Also conjured are scenes invoking a pre-teen Jessica’s early focus and conviction, brought to life by the radiant and commanding Alyla Browne.

Jessica Watson is that rarest of iconic archetypes - a person so flesh-and-blood real as to be instantly relatable, yet a heroic figure whose accomplishments are unlikely to ever be rivalled. That is a tough combination to capture and convey in a film, especially when so many details are already indelibly etched in a nation’s conscience. Yet Sarah Spillane and Teagan Croft have pulled off the adventurer’s story with all its bewildering reality and existential joy intact. The production not only deeply respects her seafaring accomplishments, but also the legacy it has afforded her name.

THE COST

Stars: Jordan Fraser-Trumble, Damon Hunter, Kevin Dee, Clayton Watson and Nicole Pastor.
Writers: Matthew Holmes and Gregory Moss.
Director: Matthew Holmes.

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ½

Reviewed at Monster Fest Sydney on Saturday December 10 at Event Cinemas George Street.

Two men grieving the loss of their beloved wife/sister at the hands of murdering rapist decide to unleash their own brand of vengeance in director Matthew Holmes’ morally problematic dramatic thriller, The Cost. This superbly acted, compellingly staged study in vigilante psychology will be too grey-shaded for some, who may interpret the narrative trajectory as a pro-argument for personal justice; others, with an ‘eye for an eye’ perspective on criminal punishment, will lap up scenes of brutal payback.

Widower David (Jordan Fraser-Trumble; top, right) and sibling Aaron (Damon Hunter; top, centre) have planned with premeditated cunning the abduction of sad loner Troy (Kevin Dee). Seizing him late one night, the steely-eyed kidnappers head deep into the Australian bush, where they make their motivations and intentions clear - the 10 years that Troy served for the sexual assault and killing of Stephanie (Nicole Pastor, in flashback; below) is nowhere near sufficient retribution for his coldhearted homicidal impulses.

Early indications that Holmes’ follow-up to his bushranger hagiography The Legend of Ben Hall will be little more than Oz torture-porn dissipate as skilfully layered back story is revealed. Developments that will have the more thoughtful genre audience pondering address the role that sentencing and non-parole periods play in meeting survivor expectations; the ages-old ‘let the punishment fit the crime’ argument; and what, if anything, stops the vigilante becoming the same horribly myopic killer that he deems unworthy for life.

It is the ‘He’ in that last sentence that most resonates. David and Aaron are two middle-class white males, a social status that comes with an ingrained sense of entitlement (search ‘vigilante films’, and you mostly see actors like Clint Eastwood, Kevin Sorbo, Tom Berenger, Jim Belushi, Steven Seagal, Bruce Willis, Nicholas Cage and Mel Gibson). Holmes and co-writer Gregory Moss construct protagonists that willingly accept the righteousness in acting above the judicial structure (Troy has been caught, prosecuted and sentenced fully in the eyes of our legal system). This imbues their ‘justice for Stephanie’ renegade with a false logic and own dangerous mental instability. 

The ‘vigilante anti-hero’ sub-genre that allows for unlawful punishment to seem justified works best in a lawless setting, be that literally (Mad Max, 1979; The Star Chamber, 1983) or figuratively (Taxi Driver, 1976; Munich, 2005). There’s a great deal of integrity and complexity in The Cost, but also a healthy dose of genre DNA that aligns it with the ugliness of Charles Bronson’s blackhearted Death Wish films. It will be in the post-screening discussions and what it exposes in those who seek it out that the real value of the film will emerge.

AVATAR: THE WAY OF WATER

Stars: Sam Worthington, Zoe Saldaña, Stephen Lang, Britain Dalton, Sigourney Weaver, Cliff Curtis, Joel David Moore, CCH Pounder, Edie Falco, Jemaine Clement, Giovanni Rabisi, Kate Winslet and Brendan Cowell.
Writers: James Cameron, Rick Jaffe and Amanda Silver.
Director: James Cameron.

Rating: ★ ★ ★

 Screened Wednesday, December 15 at Event Cinemas George Street, Sydney, on VMax 1 screen at High Frame Rate projection in Dolby Atmos.

Avatar: The Way of Water has splashed down amidst a wave of pre-promotion that has zeroed in on the dazzling eye-candy offered by its watery alien landscape; a marketing blitz imploring us to deep dive into an azure wonderland, its spectacular grandeur subliminally promising to satiate the wanderlust that has brewed within us all over the pandemic years. Top Gun: Maverick soared to box office glory on jet plane joy rides beyond the clouds; James Cameron’s long-in-production sequel hints at a similarly pure escapism, this time underwater.

And the visual splendour that Cameron’s obsession with all things aquatic promises is delivered upon. His photo-realistic rendering of the forest home of the Na’vi and then the coastal realm of the Metkayina, as well as the glistening hi-tech hardware of the ‘Sky People’ (aka, the human colonists), is all-encompassing and often remarkably beautiful. The island of At’wa Attu, the idyllic tropical wonderland to which Jake Sully (Sam Worthington), now a human/Na’vi half-breed, and his wife Neytiri (Zoe Saldaña; pictured, above) flee with their four children, is like a Planet Maldives. The unified world of the sea creatures and the indigenous clan is a One Planet wet dream, an exaltation of the denizens of the deep and the bond they share with the Maori-like community, led by Tonowari (Cliff Curtis), Ronal (Kate Winslet; pictured, below) and their own teenage children.

But the stultifying 192 minute running time demands that Cameron and co-writers Rick Jaffe and Amanda Silver put meat on their CGI bones, and it is in the narrative structure and dialogue that the first of four planned sequels doesn’t hold water. The arc that propels the story centres on the previously-perished Col. Quaritch (Stephen Lang), resurrected and re-engineered as a Marine/Na’vi hybrid, who is offered a second shot at Sully (now, essentially a deserter/traitor in military terms) and Neytiri, who killed his human form over a decade ago. Quaritch makes his way to At’wa Attu in typically ruthless style, utilising the Sully kids and the native population as leverage whenever he can. The inevitable confrontation between Sully and Quaritch plays out over a final 50-odd minute third act that is pure Cameron in its scale and staging.

Quaritch and his Marine unit offer up the kind of alpha-human action movie ‘bad guy beats’ that Cameron and his imitators mastered and discarded as tropeish decades ago. Similarly, Sully and his ‘Family is our Fortress’ schtick is one-dimensional to the point of distraction, robbing Worthington and especially Saldaña of the emotional engagement they established in the first film, both with each other and the audience.

The groaningly uninteresting second act, in which the Sully kids - teenage wannabe-warriors Neteyam (Jamie Flatters) and Lo’ak (Britain Dalton), daughter Tuk (Trinity Jo-Li Bliss) and adopted daughter, Kiri (Sigourney Weaver) - struggle to be accepted by their tribal peers, devolves into sequence after sequence of rite-of-passage underwater adventures, with blossoming teen romance and beautiful dangers around every coral reef; it’s The Blue Lagoon-meets-any number of already-forgotten YA stories that have come and gone since this film went into production, melded with a travelogue-like fetishistic self-admiration for the colours and wildlife it conjures.

The most troubling take-away from Avatar: The Way of Water is that of James Cameron exhibiting self-referential indulgences. While his creative energies have been ignited by the thrill of crafting groundbreaking interplanetary wonders, Cameron rehashes the Marine unit dynamic and weaponry hardware of Aliens; the teen-hero exploits of Terminator 2 Judgement Day; the luminescent underwater wonders of The Abyss; and, the water-will-have-its-way inevitability of Titanic. Factor in the often overly reliant inspiration it draws from its predecessor, and one can’t help feeling that the team of contributors who have helped visualise the Avatar universe have spent too many workshop hours under the tutelage of their boss. 

I’ve ultimately fallen on the side of positivity and rated Avatar: The Way of Water based on its status as a visual effects groundbreaker. Viewed in the crystal clear ultra-high-definition 3D afforded those lucky enough to see it in a high frame rate presentation, the film is a visually transcendent work, as close as mainstream cinema has come to a virtual-reality feature (despite the failings of The Hobbit as a HFR experiment, I’m now sold on the tech). If only James Cameron had loosened his technician’s labcoat and rediscovered the joys of storytelling with the same crisply etched clarity of his images.