Bigger isn’t necessarily better

Sam Worthington wonders whether blue will be very becoming of him
‘You can please some of the people all of the time, or all of the people some of the time’ runs the adage, but Avatar, it seems, has managed to please all people all the time. In its short lifespan, the biggest, most expensive film of all time has wowed both the cinema going public and film critics (two parties with almost diametrically opposite definitions of what makes an enjoyable film experience) and most surprisingly of all, the Academy, who have nominated Cameron’s blue skinned blockbuster for the prestigious Best Film Oscar.
Given Avatar’s stellar performance at the Golden Globes, where it won not only Best Director but Best Drama, there is every indication that it will do the business once more in March, and go on to win the coveted Best Film prize.
But this would be a terrible mistake on the Academy’s part. While Avatar is doubtlessly a technically and visually impressive film, we should not be confusing technological prowess with artistic and creative flair.
Summer blockbusters are commonly snubbed at the Oscars for exactly this reason. The critics’ familiar criticisms of summer tent-pole releases prizing ‘style over substance’ is usually a byword for a film so saturated with special effects that story and character are lost.
Instead, films that are visually impressive but lacking soul are dismissed as ‘popcorn fodder’ who will receive their awards in huge box office takings and exponential DVD sales, regardless of the quality of the finished product.

The original Avatar?
Avatar suffers from exactly this problem – it sold itself to audiences on promises of jaw dropping visual spectacle, and revolutionary 3D technology, while its generic plot and paper thin characterisation have been widely criticised in several internet virals. Most famous of all is the ‘Pocahontas synopsis’ in which the outline of the Pocahontas story is shown to be an almost perfect fit for Avatar’s plotline.
While there is nothing wrong with borrowing from, or building on, popular myths or tropes in popular culture, the result of Avatar’s ‘borrowing’ doesn’t bring us anything new. Instead, it uses a simple, well worn story of colonial oppression and moral awakening precisely because it is instantly familiar to so many people.
Part of the reason for Avatar’s incredible success is down to Cameron’s canny cannibalisation of an archetypal story. In the same way that Bond films and romantic comedies are enjoyable because we know how they will end, Avatar’s generic plotting provides the film with an immediate accessibility. Audiences cannot get lost in Avatar, because they know the ‘beats’ of the plot so well. They know instinctively how the film will end, regardless of whether they buy the surreal and beautiful imagery or not.
Academy Awards, and in particular, Best Picture awards are a troublingly vague honour to bestow. Previous Best Picture winners have all been awarded to films which are still recognised as modern classics decades after the award. But with its jingoistic environmental overtones, simple story and 3D visuals Avatar will date quickly.
Avatar’s incredible visual effects and eye-popping 3D trickery have undoubtedly earned it a nomination, and even a win in the Best Visual Effects category and Best Art Direction categories. However to even nominate Avatar for Best Film, is to pander to an audience of cinemagoers whose views are regularly dismissed by film makers and film critics alike. The elevation of Avatar to such lofty status is simply a way of shoring up the public perception of the Academy, who are struggling to remain relevant in an increasingly audience focused film industry.
Philip Reynolds
