May the Eywa Be With You

It has been just over a week since I saw Avatar.  The James Cameron one with the blue people, and the three-dimensional innovations for two-dimensional characters.  And… well, it’s just taken a while to figure out what to actually say about it. 

When it comes down to it, the thing that still strikes me is how I can be in two minds about it.  If someone gave me free movie tickets, I’d be inclined to give it a second whirl and watch it in 3D.  If (who am I kidding – when) a sequel comes out, I’ll see it.  And yet, I couldn’t completely ignore the predictability of the plot and cardboard cutout characters.

Can you forgive a movie, a story-telling method, for a dodgy tale and clichéd characters simply for its jaw-dropping presentation?  In book terms, that’d be like saying that a badly-written story could be forgiven because the type-setting and book jacket is just really purdy.  Put like that, it sounds an easy answer.  BUT…

I did enjoy the movie.  The story, whilst nothing ground-breaking, was engaging enough.  The visuals, whilst a massive attraction, were not the only good thing the movie had going for it.    There was some great moments of humour, some impeccable design, some adrenline-inducing scenes.  So I guess I’ve been rambling to come back to where I started: for a big-budget event flick, it was one of the best I’ve seen.  But as a film that’ll be a landmark in cinematic history?  I’m not so sure.

The ‘webs have been throwing around the notion that Avatar is going to be our generation’s Star Wars.  To that, I guffaw, “I hardly think so!”  My reasons for thinking so are listed below, but step cautiously, for here there be spoilers.

Technical Innovations.  This seems to be a big point for the Avatar-as-the-new-Star–Wars crowd, but I don’t see it as a particularly valid argument.  I agree that Cameron’s advances in cinematic technologies are impressive, as, so I hear, were Lucas’ back in the day, maybe to the point of being comparable.  But that doesn’t make the films comparable. 

An Absence of Icons.  The Na’vi were pretty cool, but that was about it.  Whilst the design of the planet and its wildlife is unique and fantastic to look at, there is not as broad a spectrum of individual icons.  Star Wars had Vader, it had the two droids, it had lightsabres.  Avatar‘s unique wildlife were too insignificant or too much alike to things we’ve seen before (ie. the pterodactyl bird-things that looked like, well, pterodactyls) to make a mark in that regard.  And in the same vein:

The Lack of Catchphrases.  SW gave us the unforgettable “May the Force be with you.”  Where is Avatar‘s line to be integrated so innately into popular culture?  At best, it would be the pithy, plain “I see you.”  For the amount of times it is repeated in the film, you can almost see the hope that it would catch on, but it doesn’t have the same immediate effect.  With  the SW quote, there are immediate associations to the film through the mention of The Force.  Avatar‘s quote has no direct connection to the film or its mythos.  That opens it up to being a more in-the-know, inside joke type of phrase, but I can’t see it finding its way into the cultural lingo in the same way.  But maybe Cameron’s trying to think up his own “No, I am your father” for the sequel.

The Difficulty of a Sequel.  And speaking of sequels, this is my big issue with the comparison.  There’s no doubt that Avatar could become a franchise, but it’s not so easy to see where it could go in terms of plot.  I’ve got several points for this one, so here we go:

The Deaths of Primary Characters. At the conclusion of SW, almost all the major players are still kicking.  Luke, Leia, Han, Chewie, R2, 3PO, even Vader who’s spinning off somewhere in space.  Yet Avatar took the liberty of killing off the majority of its major cast.  Grace Augustine, Trudy, Tsu’Tey, Quaritch.  The only main characters alive, rearing for a follow-up, are Jake and Neytiri.  This immediately limits the possibility of expanding the storyline because a sequel will need to introduce new characters.  Because they’re new, we won’t already be attached to them and have the same connection to them as we would have had they carried over from the first film.  This is additionally frustrating because the characters were largely underdeveloped.  We hardly knew them, and as such, their deaths did not have as much effect as they would have should we have been allowed to grow to love them over the course of a trilogy.  Yet because of the extermination of many major characters in Avatar, the individual film had impact.  But in terms of being a set up for the sequel, it shot itself in the foot on this one.

Neatly Wrapping Up the Story.  SW did it to, but managed to pick up the story anyhow.  Yet Avatar concludes too cleanly.  The Na’vi win, humans are banished.  Perhaps most damning in sequel-terms, Jake gives up his own body to permanently inhabit his avatar.  As in, he no longer has an avatar.  Considering that is the titular idea, that makes Avatar 2 sound a little… well, not quite right.  But where would the plot go?  Would the humans come back with a vengeance?  That sounds like a repeat of film 1, more or less.  Would the Na’vi start warring amongst themselves…?  Simply put, I struggle to see a natural continuation of the story, which may be, in part, due to:

The Narrowness of Scope.  Yes, the film was a big-budget epic, but it took place on a single planet, and the threat to that planet (or more precisely, moon) was removed at the end of the film.  Pandora was the only focus of the film.  It’s all that we’ve come to know about, to care about, to learn about.  We know that there’s a greater universe, but we haven’t touched on it.  Star Wars, however, did.  We bounced through Tatooine, Alderaan, Yavin 4, the Death Star.  We got a bigger picture of the universe, and so it was easier to expand on and add to.  As we’ve only expanded on a single planet in Avatar, to move away from it in a sequel would distance it too much from the first film for it to be easily considered a sequel.  Thus an adventure on another planet seems a difficult road to take.

So these are my main issues with Avatar as the new Star Wars.  It’s possible that time will prove me wrong: after all, SW has had 30+ years to ingrain its catchphrases and icons.  It surely sounds like I’m panning Avatar, but I honestly enjoyed it.  It might become an icon in its own right, but all I’m trying to express is that I don’t think it’s a new Star Wars.

So what do you think?  Can you forsee people painting themselves blue for dress-up parties a few decades down the road, or quoting “I see you” to their friends? Is there an obvious route to a sequel that I’ve been completely oblivious to?  And I guess, most importantly: what did you think of Avatar?

One Pill to Rule Them All

Are you a struggling fantasy writer?  Is your imagination bursting at the seams with epic quests populated by elves, dwarves and halflings?  Are there snow-capped peaks that desperately need traversing, or underground evil dominions that are just waiting to be accidentally awakened by naive characters?  Is everything falling into place, except that crucial element?

What about the names?

How do you come up with names that are original?  Are the consonant-heavy names that you concoct unpronounceable?

If you answered yes to any of the above, I have a solution for you.  Just follow these five simple steps:

1. Stand up.
2. Go to your medicine cabinet.
3. Select several bottles or boxes at random.
4. Return to your aspiring-fantasy-novelist den.
5. Select your names.

Still a little stumped?  Allow me to demonstrate:

The youth scratched at his pointed ears.  “I don’t understand!”  With a great sigh, he collapsed into the chair by the dining room table.  His mother’s gold-thread embroidery cushion did nothing to muffle the creak of old wood.  The youth reached for a conveniently placed pear.  Taking a large bite out of it, he continued with his mouth full.  “You show up on my door–” CHEW “–step, uninvited.  And then you go on about–” CHOMP “–the end of the world or some poppycock like that.  I was having a frightfully pleasant day until you came along, Nexium.  Now it’s just frightful.”

The aged man turned rapidly, his eyes burning intensely.  He had travelled far to warn his dear friend of the impending danger.  By his count, which was surprisingly accurate for he had always had a great aptitude for the mathematics, they had less than one hour and eighteen minutes before the small village would be overrun by the vicious Keppra.  He frowned.  “This is no time for jest, young Atacand!  If you do not act now, you will never be able act on anything again!  You must hurry!”  Nexium furrowed his brow to convey his agitation.

The youth rolled his eyes and took another lazy munch of the fruit he’d picked earlier in the day.  Atacand had always lived a life of peace in the tranquil farming village of Caduet.  He’d been more concerned about the capsicum plague spreading to his prized vegetables than about the warring elven tribes in the north.  He’d been more interested in what mulch produced the largest savlons, than which of King Oxilan’s two twin sons would take his throne.  And he cared far more about wooing the exquisite Lyrica than he cared about the ever-growing Empire of the Dusk.

“Your age had made you overtly worrisome,” answered Atacand, this time taking the time to finish chewing his food before speaking.  “Caduet has always evaded the eyes of the dark races.  It will always remain as such.  None care for our small valley.  It is not particularly bountiful nor beautiful, but it suits our simple tastes.”

It was Nexium’s turn to groan at the youth’s continued dismissal of impending tragedy.  “But it is not for your quaint little town that evil descends here!  It is for something far more sinister, and if you do not act quickly, young Atacand, there will not be a finger on which to place that engagement ring.”  The boy’s eyes widened and looked to the little box on the table.  He had taken special care to ensure the bow was symmetrical.

 Nexium did not stop for a breath, much less a glance to the giftbox.  “Yes, the Keppra will come, each mounted on a ferocious Gemzar, and they will leave behind them a burning village.  And they will take with them the stunning Lyrica.  Surely you cannot be so disinterested in world affairs as to be oblivious to the most terrible news of the month.”  The old man paused, savouring the tense silence before an inevitable gasp of horror from the pointy-eared Atacand’s mouth.

“The Dark Lord Zovirax lacks only three of his greatest desires: absolute power, world domination… and a wife.”

Walking the Tightrope: An Introduction

Would you do something for me, Liesel?  You told me about the goal, but I don’t know what sort of day it is up there.  I don’t know if you scored it in the sun, or if the clouds have covered everything.  Could you go up and tell me how the weather looks?

 

Words are one of our most prized possessions, perhaps second only to the gift of ideas.   And though the idea may come first, we need the words to make it real.

 

The sky is blue today, Max, and there is a big long cloud, and it’s stretched out like a rope.  At the end of it, the sun is like a yellow hole…

 

It is here that I plan to do just that: to put my ponderings, my overthought musings and my off-the-wall insights on books, movies, and life in general, into words – and sometimes illustrations (P=1000W, where P = picture, W = Word). 

I can hardly promise life-changing inspiration, but hopefully, like Max and Liesel, I can express things with a little more imagination. 

 

The Wall-Written Words of Max Vandenburg:
It was a Monday, and they walked on a tightrope to the sun.

 

Italicised quotes from “The Book Thief”, by Markus Zusak