When one sits down to watch James Cameron’s Avatar: Fire And Ash, the latest in a now-trilogy of computer generated sci-fi epics, expectations are clear: this is cinema made for the largest screen possible. Presented in the sense-activating 3D format, Fire And Ash expands on relationships, mythology, and spiritual foundation presented in its two prior Pandora-set projects. Like the 2009 film Avatar and its 2022 sequel, subtitled The Way of Water, Fire And Ash presents the alien Na’vi tribe at their most human: raw, visceral, and deeply physical.
The film picks up not long after the tragic events of its predecessor, with the subtitle of Fire And Ash representing feelings of both rage and grief as a result of its fallout. While certain story beats, character developments, and set pieces mirror The Way of Water in a way that often evokes déjà vu, there are still moments-particularly emotional ones-honed in on that expand life in Pandora much more intimately.
Once again at the forefront is the Sully family, led by Sam Worthington’s Jake Sully, a protective father and more importantly a pillar amongst the battle-weary Na’vi. Worthington’s performance parallels strengths exhibited in previous installments, as Sully’s character develops in tandem with Zoe Saldana’s Neytiri. Neytiri’s character is tasked with a more commanding and emotional presence than ever before and quickly becomes a powerhouse standout. Consumed by vendetta and prejudice, Saldana’s Neytiri is more than a grief-stricken mother, she channels her anger into action, shapeshifting into a war-hungry and brutal fighter. A great deal of thematic emotional resonance comes on the back of Neytiri, with some assistance in the form of her children. Most notable, Britain Dalton’s Lo’ak, who is overcome with grief as a result of his brother’s death in The Way of Water. Desperate to prove himself, Lo’ak too stays proactive. Dalton’s Lo’ak is mournful, though brave, and it’s through him the family themes are reinforced.
Sigourney Weaver returns as Kiri, who serves ultimately as Fire and Ash’s spirit. It’s alongside her that the mysticism in the world of Pandora and the Na’vi religiosity are expanded on. Though sometimes difficult to unsee Weaver underneath the eyes of a teenager, Kiri’s nurturing presence adds tenderness to an otherwise entirely abrasive union. Finally, the last of the outstanding Sully clan comes in the form of Spider, a human character played by Jack Champion. Certainly the weakest link when it comes to performance and utilization, Spider has the rough task in carrying a chunk of the subplot that might raise a few eyebrows. Understandingly, there is only so much Cameron could do with a human character in such a fantastical world and Champion struggles to carry his weight as a result. Even so, Spider is responsible for the bulk of comic relief, and whether it lands or not is up to how silly the audience is willing to let some of the jokes be.
By far and wide Avatar: Fire And Ash‘s standout is Varang, played expertly by newcomer Oona Chaplin. As the rageful leader of the Mangkwan ash people, Varang’s entrance into the world of Avatar is igniting, sensual, and mesmerizing. In an ensemble performance that is almost completely feral and animalistic, Varang leads the fire Na’vi in a showcase that immediately differentiates them from the Sully’s Omatikaya forest people as well as the Metkayina water tribe introduced in The Way of Water. Fueled by vengeance, Varang and Mangkwan make use of every action-packed and ritualistic minute of their screentime. Regrettably, it’s almost criminal how much screentime Cameron actually gives them. It’s by them that Fire And Ash cascades into aftermath of war and the divisiveness amongst opposing morals. Coincided with this journey is fellow returnee Colonel Miles Quandritch played by Stephen Lang, whose chemistry with Varang makes for an electric villain duo.
The visual effects are nothing short of captivating, granted we’re not shown anything that blows the spectacle of the prior installment out of the water. Other Pandora native species exist with various impressive creature designs at a sometimes Lovecraftian scale. The film’s animation reaches its peak when Na’vi or other animals interact with the vastness of the sea or the rushing of a river. The action sequences are fast-paced and militaristic. A notable airborne battle sequence is just one of many that combines different fighting styles and weapons. Cameron’s cinematography is well aided by the scale of IMAX or the envelope of 3D, though little feels particularly reinvigorating. A jarring animation every now and then might grant inklings of uncanniness as different species or technologies exist in the same frame. The camera stays dynamic with the action and takes a breath on the more emotional beats, but the whopping 197 minute runtime can only sustain so much before things feel tedious. By the time we reach the third act, we’re left wondering if some of the footage is rerun from The Way of Water.
3 / 5 Stars
Avatar: Fire And Ash‘s stakes are lower, but its reach goes wider. If the film so happens to be the final in a trilogy, there’s a satisfying bow that it ties on the series. Cameron keeps the spirit of the franchise afloat and cements its core values now more than ever. Maybe less exhilarating and emotional than that of his 2009 and 2022 entries, 2025’s Fire And Ash serves as a spiritual epilogue more than anything. Half grounded in the thematics of unity and aftermath of trauma, half drenched in expanding mystics that paint the Na’vi and life on Pandora in a whole new light. If more installments in the world of Avatar come as planned, there are plenty of ideas to piggyback off of Fire And Ash, and plenty more to surpass.
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