Avatar: Fire and Ash Review — A $400 Million Placeholder Masquerading as a Movie

Avatar: Fire and Ash

Directed by: James Cameron

Written by: James Cameron, Rick Jaffa, Amanda Silver

Starring: Sam Worthington, Zoe Saldaña, Sigourney Weaver

Release Date: December 19, 2025

Runtime: Just over forever

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

$400 Million and It Still Feels Like a Video Game

Four hundred million dollars. Avatar: Fire and Ash reportedly cost $400 million to make. From a business standpoint, sure—Avatar and The Way of Water printed money. From an artistic standpoint? That’s an astonishing sum for something that ultimately plays like watching someone else grind side quests in a very pretty video game.

To be clear: Avatar: Fire and Ash looks incredible. James Cameron remains unmatched when it comes to digital world-building. The problem is that no amount of technical wizardry can disguise the fact that this movie feels less like a film and more like a meticulously rendered demo reel. For all its polish, it’s barely more exhilarating than Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within—that uncanny 2001 experiment where stiff, digital characters recited lore meant only for people already invested.

The Third Movie Problem: Nothing Can Actually Happen

Avatar: Fire and Ash follows almost the exact same template as Avatar: The Way of Water:

• Lengthy exposition dumps

• Visually dazzling action

• Piles of lore for the handful of viewers who treat Pandora like a sacred text

And then… we end up right back where we started.

This is the third film in a planned five-movie franchise, which means it exists in narrative limbo. The character arcs are thin to nonexistent because nothing important is allowed to stick. No major change can occur. No true resolution is permitted. Fire and Ash isn’t a story—it’s a placeholder where a real movie should be.

By the end, the overwhelming question isn’t “What happens next?” but “Why did this need to exist at all?”

The Plot, Such As It Is

Recapping the plot feels almost unnecessary. I could point you to the synopsis of The Way of Water and call it a day, but professionalism demands effort.

Jake Sully (Sam Worthington) and Neytiri (Zoe Saldaña) remain with the water clan, still grieving the death of their eldest son from the previous film. Or at least, they’re supposed to be. Cameron undercuts that emotional weight almost immediately by revealing that their surviving son can casually hang out with his dead brother in a spiritual afterlife whenever he feels like it. Grief loses its punch when death comes with visiting hours.

Still, the loss drives a wedge between Jake and Neytiri. Jake resents his youngest son, while Neytiri directs her rage at the Sky People—all of them—including Spider (Jack Champion), the adopted human son of Colonel Quaritch (Stephen Lang).

At one point, Neytiri casually suggests murdering Spider as payback. This is treated with surprising narrative indifference, despite the fact that her family—especially Kiri (Sigourney Weaver)—loves him deeply. Emotional fallout is… optional in this universe.

Enter the Ash Clan, Exit Any Consequences

Yes, Quaritch is back. Again. His pursuit leads to the introduction of the Ash Clan, led by Vorang (Oona Chaplin), whose bitterness toward the Na’vi deity Eywa has curdled into outright cruelty. Her clan lost their land to a volcano, and she now terrorizes other Na’vi tribes, cutting off their ponytails and severing their spiritual connection.

It’s a genuinely dark idea—introduced and then promptly discarded.

Much like a second-rate Bond villain, Vorang demonstrates her brutality on nameless background characters while conveniently sparing the main cast. Threats are made. Time is wasted. Heroes escape. Rinse. Repeat.

Dialogue Crimes and “Bro” Fatigue

I may owe George Lucas an apology.

For years, we’ve mocked the Star Wars prequel dialogue while giving James Cameron a free pass. That ends here. The dialogue in Fire and Ash once again oscillates wildly between solemn spiritual platitudes and teenage slang. The “bro” count is lower than in The Way of Water, but it’s still high enough to induce eye strain.

Cameron writes teens the way someone who hasn’t spoken to one since 2003 imagines they talk. Thankfully, we’re spared references to Skibidi Toilet or “6–7,” but only barely. The man has been swimming in digital tools for so long he seems to have forgotten how humans communicate.

The One Bright Spot: Jemaine Clement

The lone breath of fresh air comes from Jemaine Clement, whose performance feels shockingly human. His scenes remind us what charisma looks like when it isn’t buried under lore dumps and awkward exposition.

Unfortunately, he’s surrounded by talented actors completely undone by Cameron’s dialogue. Edie Falco looks defeated. Kate Winslet is criminally underused as a Na’vi water tribe leader—so underused that many viewers won’t even realize she’s there. If you can reliably tell the Na’vi characters apart beyond Jake, Neytiri, and Kiri, congratulations. You’re doing better than I did.

Final Verdict: Technically Impressive, Dramatically Empty

Avatar: Fire and Ash is a whole lot of nothing. It’s never incompetent—Cameron is too skilled and too well-funded for that—but it exists in a strange cinematic uncanny valley. Not bad enough to be fun. Not good enough to justify its runtime, budget, or narrative bloat.

It hovers somewhere between competent and mediocre, suspended above failure but far below anything resembling greatness.

And somehow… there are still two more of these coming.

Yay.

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