Tag: Fantasy

Movie Review: Avatar

Away we go! This is the first of ten reviews of Best Picture Oscar nominees leading up to the awards ceremony Sunday, March 7th.

*This guest post also appears on the Stilwell Film blog.

Admittedly, Avatar isn’t my thing, I’m not big on James Cameron or any alien films (not only his), I’ve never been interested in Star Wars or Star Trek (though I have seen enough of both franchises to hold a conversation), so I wasn’t planning on watching Avatar at any point in my life. However, this afternoon, I changed my mind when a free screening became available to me. With my original plans canceled and a spare two and a half hours available, I tucked into James Cameron’s latest film.

Well, Avatar wasn’t what I thought it would be, but it wasn’t any better. I spent most of the first half of the movie developing alternate titles ending with “in space.” “Pocahontas in Space,” “Dances with Wolves in Space,” and “Titanic in Space” all sprang to mind. For the most part, it seems Cameron has taken plots from various other films, thrown them together, dyed it blue, and placed it on the fictitious planet, Pandora, to create a science-fiction retelling of the Pocahontas mythos.

In this version, instead of John Smith, it is Jake Sully (Sam Worthington), the wheel chair bound ex-marine who takes over his dead twin’s avatar mission, and falls in love with the Na’vi people, specifically, the clan leader’s daughter, Neytiri (Zoe Saldana). He begins as an undercover spy, trying to learn about the Pandora natives’ culture to help the visiting Earthlings’ military and big businesses. However, as all stories like this go, he falls in love and is torn between the two worlds and races. The plot is laid out in the previews, and if you need help, Cameron lays the foreshadowing on thick throughout the film, but then the plot isn’t why most people are seeing this film, is it?

Special effects wise, the film is pretty fascinating. What more can one say? Seeing this on the big screen and in 3D probably would have held my attention more, but, alas, my free screening wasn’t at such a high standard. Would I sit through it again if I could get a free ticket to the 3D IMAX experience? No, but if you’re debating seeing it, definitely splurge and get your full money’s worth.

As much as I would like to sit through a movie like this and enjoy it for what it is (ground-breaking sci-fi entertainment that will go down in history), I simply can’t. James Cameron’s attempt to create a more spiritual, natural, and peaceful society leaves me annoyed that once again this idea is filtered through a white, Western, male member of a patriarchal society. Some theorists will consider Cameron’s Alien trilogy feminist, because of Sigourney Weaver’s empowered Ripley (legend says it was written to be asexual–with casting deciding the character’s sex), but she still has to prove her femininity and womanliness by saving cats and small children. I fear that many feminists will laud Avatar as well–for creating a world where the people worship a female entity (“Eywa”), because the Clan leader’s female mate/wife is as powerful as him, and since the female lead is as empowered as Ripley. However, like Ripley, Neytiri too has her feminine trappings, as her power can be explained away through her heritage.

When Neytiri first meets Sully, she commands the other warriors to stand down and allow her to take him to their leader–who happens to be her father. The warriors listen and obey her, but is it because she is a powerful woman, or because her father and mother are leaders among the Na’vi? Does she earn her power or inherit it? Similarly, in the legend of Pocahontas,* would John Smith have been saved if it was by any other girl in the village, or because it was the Chief’s daughter who saved him? Furthermore, to add to Neytiri’s street cred, her great-grandfather was Toruk Makto, a legendary Na’vi leader, basically giving her a birth right to power and respect among her people. For those who don’t believe it, I ask, would Sully have survived his first night among the Na’vi if the one speaking for him was any other woman and not the daughter of the clan leader and shaman (or would that be sha-lady in this case)?

I’ll leave you with that to ponder, while I try to work out the symbolism of taming a wild animal by penetrating it with your mystical hair, and end this review on a generally positive note. The first two-thirds are fairly entertaining, but the large battle scenes were just that–large battle scenes. Perhaps at an IMAX or in 3D I wouldn’t have lost focus, but I simply wasn’t interested and played on my phone instead. A lot of people will see this and love it, but if science fiction, action, and special effect-laden films aren’t your cup of tea, you probably won’t leave the theater an Avatar fan.

Director and Writer: James Cameron
Starring: Sam Worthington, Zoe Saldana, Sigourney Weaver
Rated: PG-13
162 minutes
Avatar is nominated for nine Academy Awards, including Best Picture, Visual Effects, Sound Editing, Sound, Original Score, Editing, Director, Cinematography, and Art Direction. It also won the Golden Globes award for Best Picture-Drama and Best Director.

*I refer to the story of Pocahontas as legend and myth, because it is questionable how much of John Smith’s accounts are exaggerated, not to mention that he was also rescued by a Turkish princess when captured in what is now Hungary. The stories are similar, so the question is: Did John Smith make a habit of being rescued by pre-teen girls or did he blend the two together for his own benefit?

Elizabeth Tiller is a PhD student researching femme fatales in European cinema. Last year, she founded Stilwell Film, a non-profit that provides free outdoor film screenings to southern Johnson County, Kansas during July. In her spare time, she plays rugby, frequents karaoke nights, and watches high quality films like The Blue Lagoon.

What We Owe to Buffy

Without any question, Buffy revolutionized the role of women on television, more even than Mary Tyler Moore or Cagney and Lacey or Murphy Brown or Ally McBeal. If you look at female heroes (as opposed to hapless heroines–I have always thought that the definition of heroine should be “endangered female in need of rescue by male hero”) in the history of TV, you will be astonished at how few there are prior to the nineties. You have Annie Oakley in the fifties and Emma Peel on The Avengers in the sixties, and to a degree Wonder Woman (who spent a great deal of her time worrying about impressing her boss Col. Steve Trevor) and The Bionic Woman (the weaker spin off to The Six Million Dollar Man). This all changed in the nineties, first with Dana Scully on The X-Files and then with Xena. But the former, as competent as she was as an FBI professional, was not sufficiently iconic to change TV, while the latter, sufficiently iconic, was too cartoonish to inspire future female heroes. Buffy was the turning point. You can write the history of female heroes on TV as Before Buffy and After Buffy. It is not a coincidence that most of the female heroes on TV arose in the wake of the little blonde vampire slayer. Look at the roster: Aeryn Sun (Farscape), Max (Dark Angel), Sydney Bristow (Alias), Kate Austin (Lost), Kara “Starbuck” Thrace (along with a plethora of other strong women on Battlestar Galactica), Olivia Dunham (Fringe), Sarah Connor and Cameron (Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles), Veronica Mars, and an almost uncountable number of lesser characters. Buffy made TV safe for strong women. This isn’t art, but it is the content of art. Buffy guaranteed that TV as art would make a place for heroic women.

Ripley’s Pick: Season One of ‘True Blood’*

*That’s right, I said Season One. I haven’t seen a minute of Season Two, and won’t until it comes out on DVD. If Season Two contradicts everything I’ve said here, please bite your tongue–or leave your links in the comments section!

Here’s a secret: I love TV. Even more than I love movies. A television series can develop characters and story lines that are impossibly complex for a two-hour movie, and can really dig into themes and issues in ways movies can only touch upon. The high-quality television series is our generation’s answer to the 19th century serial novel–an excellent vehicle for cultural analysis and a popular genre (although most quality television is currently the domain of premium cable, which is, I admit, a problem).

A rare thing happened at work a few weeks ago: three of us (it’s a small business, and none of us has cable) started watching True Blood on DVD at the same time, allowing us to discuss a cultural object a little bit more complicated–and rewarding–than standard reality show fare.

To begin, in the words of my employer, since the show is on HBO, it’s already light years beyond anything else on TV–so even if it’s flawed, it’s hard to argue against watching (and enjoying) it.

True Blood, for the final few people unaware of the current vampire craze in the U.S., is set in small-town Louisiana a couple of years after vampires officially “came out of the coffin.” Supernatural figures and those with more mundane talents–like mind-reading and curing alcoholism & anxiety with fake exorcisms–populate Bon Temps. While the latter refers to the voodoo line True Blood refuses to cross, the former is the powerful ability of the main character, Sookie Stackhouse. (The show is based on Charlaine Harris’ series of novels about the heroine, which I haven’t read. But might.)

Rather than write a complete review of the entire first season (twelve 50-minute episodes), which I’m not sure how to do in the first place, I’ll highlight a few of the female characters and why I choose this series–despite its flaws–as a Ripley’s Pick.

Sookie Stackhouse (Anna Paquin)
Sookie, the star of the show, is a waitress who can read minds–unless she concentrates on not listening. What draws her most to Vampire Bill is that she can’t hear his thoughts, even if she tries. Now, Sookie conforms to a lot of vampire story tropes: she is chaste (at first), in a kind of distress that warrants supernatural intervention (mostly), very pretty, and scantily clad. She is all of these things, yet she subverts so many expectations that I think the show plays with these tropes more than conforms to them. Sookie is a virgin when the show begins, but it doesn’t take long for her to run for Bill (literally) after–in a Like Water for Chocolate moment–eating a pie her grandmother made (with love). She enjoys sex, and isn’t shamed by the ‘fangbanger’ accusations hurled at her. She’s strong, independent, smart, and ultimately powerful; and even if she does wear tiny, tiny dresses, she still beheads a serial killer with a shovel.

Tara Thornton (Rutina Wesley)
Sookie’s best friend, and my favorite character. Unlike most female characters on TV, Tara is a real woman with real problems. Aside from her shape-shifter boss/love interest, Sam, and her origins-yet-defined adolescent crush, Jason, Tara deals with isolation, loneliness, and an alcoholic Jesus-freak mother. She is independent and abrasive, and despite her best efforts, falls to the defense mechanisms of her mother (her go-to accusations of racism and sexism, drinking, demon exorcism for melancholy). She’s also wicked smart–the show opens with her reading Naomi Klein’s Shock Doctrine, and reminds us again and again that she reads for knowledge. She doesn’t always know what to do with her knowledge, however, as evidenced in her lashing out at the customer who interrupts her reading of Klein. Tara is legitimately angry, but hasn’t figured out how to direct her anger at anything but herself.

Amy Burley (Lizzy Caplan)
Amy Burley is a wolf in sheep’s clothing. On the surface she’s a beautiful, free-spirited wanderer who opens Jason’s eyes up to the wonders of the natural world–and vampire blood, an illegal substance with LSD qualities. While we’re charmed by her indie good looks and hippie-stuck-in-a-perpetual-summer-of-love ways, there’s something dark and evil underneath. She’s selfish and nasty, and will stop at nothing–including manipulating born-follower Jason, kidnapping, and murdering–to indulge her desire to escape into a drug-induced euphoria. Though her storyline isn’t a major one, it offers some straightforward cultural critique. Like some actual hippies in the ’60s, interested only in indulging selfish desires while Vietnam raged and the Civil Rights casualties mounted, Amy ignores reality in service of continuing her fantasy. (Those who critique the show as ultimately regressive might use her character as an example; selfish hippies are a conservative bugaboo. Or, she might just be an example of the destructive nature of human desire.)

This barely scratches the surface of True Blood, and I do think there are some legitimate critiques of the show–despite couching many of its themes in camp. My least favorite moments in the show involve its romantic plots, which are, frankly, boring and soap opera-esque, and pale in comparison to the show’s other interests.

True Blood–like creator Alan Ball’s previous series, Six Feet Under–definitely feels like a guilty pleasure, but both shows exhibit intelligence along with entertainment. I hope Season Two, which wraps this coming Sunday night, delves further into Southern identity, sexuality, and desire–rather than losing its smarts in a storm of supernatural battles.