Title: Avatar
MPAA: PG-13
Runtime: 162 minutes
Director: James Cameron

Rating: 3 out of 5 stars

James Cameron wanted me to let you all know that, in addition to being "the king of the world", he is now also the king of Pandora. That, of course, is the name given to the moon associated with the planet Polyphemus in Mr. King of the Galaxy's new movie, Avatar. An Avatar is, of course, the binary and digital equivalent of an "AKA", which itself is just an acronymic way of saying "I can't stand on my own two feet, so I'll adopt a more exciting alter-ego".

In this rather bizarre and "meta" way, Avatar is indeed a real avatar: pretending to be its own movie, it is, in fact, a fascinating cross-cut blend of several other films, including Fernfully, Dances with Wolves, Pocahontas, Apocalypto, and maybe a bit of Braveheart. However, since Avatar dresses up its brazen plagiarism with some absolutely stunning and spectacular digital imagery and special effects, we'll give it a pass and probably even hand it some academy awards.

A quick synopsis, then: we Americans are a greedy, unfeeling, insensitive bunch of chunk-heads who have no appreciation whatsoever for other cultures, let alone other planets. We frequently go around with actual dollar signs flashing out of our eye sockets, and we will stop at nothing to make a lot of money very quickly. Thus, the RDA Corporation has set out on a mining expedition to Pandora, where it will blow stuff up, kill innocent life-forms, and generally make a drunken fool of itself in the quest to obtain a valuable mineral called ... wait for it ... unobtainium. Please, stop laughing, Mr. Cameron can hear you.

One of the ways the RDA Corporation intends to get this unobtanium (genus: nowaytoprocuremal) is to infiltrate the native Na'vi people using "avatars" - a human-Na'vi hybrid, specially built for the purpose, and operated by human beings using slightly upgraded The Matrix technology. Seriously, you jerks, quit laughing, this is serious art.

Jake Scully operates the lone avatar that is successful in being accepted by the Na'vi people, and this forms the basis for the movie's morality tale: once Jake gets to know and love the Na'vi (because you just know he will), will he remain loyal to the humans and help them rape the land, or will he become a traitor to his race by helping the Na'vi preserve their civilization? I'll bet you really can't guess, can you?

I liked the film, in a sort of "3 stars out of 5" way. As promised, the CGI and digital effects show was very good, and the epic battle at the end of the film was as epic-y and battle-ish as anyone could want. My point of contention is that James Cameron carved up an over-used story, threw in some seriously shameless and pedantic political propaganda, and used that as an excuse to put on a digital dog-and-pony show.

The Na'vi prance around in their skimpy outfits, with their long and braided hair, worshiping the Mother Nature Goddess Life Energy Force and living off the resources of the land - and they have a pretty catchy war-cry, to boot. You can go ahead and mentally supply the eagle-feather warbonnets and tomahawk dancing.

As the unapologetically mercenary humans prepare to go to war against the Na'vi, their actions are justified as "pre-emptive", and described as a "shock and awe" campaign. Jake complains that we humans have already killed our Mother (earth, I think, although he may have been talking about Mother Teresa), and declares that human beings must be taught that we cannot simply take land away from other civilizations in order to get what we want.

In short, as the climactic battle begins, and the war cry is sounded, the average viewer will be so fired up and emotionally provoked that he may very well leap up out of his theater seat, raise his fists into the air, and scream "DEATH TO THE HUMANS!" Presumably, he will then return to his seat and continue consuming his 885 oz. Pepsi and 50-gallon drum of popcorn, little realizing that he has just sided against his own race in favor of a fictional, digital, alien community.

I fail to understand why James Cameron chose the American people as the antagonists in this film. After all, he was writing a story line that simply needed to pit humans against aliens, but out of all the cultures and races on Planet Earth from which to choose, he selected Americans. Obviously, Mr. Cameron has not watched enough Bugs Bunny or Connery-era 007 films, or he would have known that the nationalities preferred for representing Evil Incarnate in cinema are Russians or Germans.

I can only conclude that James Cameron is himself an alien, currently operating a genetically engineered human avatar, sent here to infiltrate our planet and prepare us for the coming alien invasion by filling us with self-loathing.

Still, he's doing it with some fantastic special effects, so ... who cares? Pass the popcorn.

++++++++++

This review was made possible in part by the generosity of Celebration Cinemas in Grand Rapids, MI. Feel like taking in a movie tonight? Celebration has a broad selection of films, stadium-style seating, a clean environment, and best of all, they never show commercials after the advertised showtime. Visit Celebration Cinemas online.

Dirty cops. Minority criminals. Lots of shooting and cursing. All of this and more can be yours for just two hours of your precious time. Actually, there isn't really any "more" to Pride and Glory, so this is all you get for your money.

The movie begins with a cops vs. cops football game, which was probably a bad move, because watching the game unfold just made me want to eat chips, drink beer, and fall asleep on the couch with one arm dangling to the floor, the remote control loosely gripped in my weary hand. Unfortunately, the movie never recovers from this opening blunder.

For most of the film, I felt as though I had been dropped squarely in the middle of an already-established plot line, but without the benefit of knowing any of the backstory. This left the script free to pummel me with spoonfuls of information that seemed like it was probably important, while never revealing to me what was actually going on. Thankfully, the dialog more than made up for this gap by presenting me with generous portions of well-worn cliches, including the requisite "good cop" who has some mysterious and generic "bad thing" from his past, a thing which he is still not quite over. Don't worry about what the "bad thing" is, just try to enter into the character's angst and internal struggle.

Take this basic principle and apply it to the entire movie, and you will get a pretty good idea of why Pride and Glory is a film that fails to be either proud or glorious. For most of the viewing, the movie grips the strings of the heart and pulls them violently, but never indicates what those strings are attached to, leaving the viewer with nothing but a consistent (and confusing) pulling sensation. It was as if the movie kept repeatedly inviting me to come inside for a few drinks, but never gave me a compelling reason to accept the invitation.

At about 45 minutes into the film, the body of a dead drug dealer is found, but the police are unsure "where he fits in"; a witness is questioned, but is declared to be "scattered" in her answers; then follows a funeral procession/parade played out in interminable slow-motion. I believe that it was at this point that the movie became self-aware, and started sending me encoded messages: portions of the plot don't fit it, the direction of the storyline is scattered, and yet it marches on, slowly, unceasingly, toward its morbid conclusion.

One hour into the film, I just wanted out. Most of the story's "reveals" had been unveiled, and there was nothing left to do but watch the yarn unravel, blandly.