Avatar vs The Thin Red Line

Most talk of innovations in filmmaking is lost on me. When I hear how good the sound or CGI was in something like Transformers 2, I want to point out that for the amount of money thrown at Transformers 2—which doesn’t look or sound good at all, really—a truly interesting or innovative filmmaker could have made five or ten or fifteen movies. The Hurt Locker was low-budget, contained zero movie stars, I’m guessing few computer effects, no merchandising whatsoever, and felt as groundbreaking as anything I’ve seen all year (or last year, for that matter). Which brings us to Avatar. I guess the last time I saw something truly new at the movies, in terms of effects, was Jurassic Park. Which isn’t to say I haven’t been impressed by special effects between Jurassic Park and Avatar. It’s more that I haven’t been completely taken with, and fooled by, a movie’s special effects. The dinosaurs in Jurassic Park are as believable as any of its human characters, and in Avatar, there’s no distinguishing CGI from actuality, and there’s no moment to ponder it anyway. Avatar is fun, exciting, believable, and worth the wait. James Cameron took twelve years between films, and every minute is there on screen.

Sam Worthington plays Jake, a paraplegic Marine whose brother was part of a mission involving alien/human hybrid avatars to help integrate scientists and soldiers from Earth with the native inhabitants of the planet Pandora, which is rich in a mineral necessary to replenish the energy and environment of Earth, or power its cars and planes, or something. It’s going to be fuel? Maybe? It’s called “Unobtainium”, and I’m honestly not sure if it’s referred to that as a jokey nickname by the characters in the movie, or if that’s the actual scientific name for it, and guess what: I don’t care. Avatar is full of pulpy science fiction dialogue (and trippy hippie stoner dialogue), and I think it’s better for it. Cut to the chase, keep things simple. There’s a lot of information and images being thrown at us constantly, and although I cringed the first time I heard “unobtainium”, it was for a split second, rather than, say, the endless senate hearings in The Phantom Menace. There’s an unspoken agreement in science fiction and fantasy movies, and it goes like this: if the die-hard nerds want to go home and translate the alien languages, or draw up blueprints for the spaceships, they’re free to knock themselves out. I’m just gonna watch the movies. I don’t care what Darth Vader’s helmet is made out of. I don’t care what serial number is on the jetpacks in Minority Report. I just want to see blue aliens fight six-legged alien dogs (and no, I don’t care what the dogs are called.).

Back to the plot: Jake’s brother died. Jake is military, so he’s got clearance, and he’s a DNA match with his brother, whose avatar will go to waste otherwise, since no one else’s DNA can power it. In a matter of minutes, Jake has been given a quick course by Grace (Sigourney Weaver), one of the good-guy scientists. Grace respects the people of Pandora, and is fascinated by their plants, animals and spirituality. She thinks Jake is an idiot there on a technicality, and treats him as such. Director James Cameron uses this as a tool to educate the audience as well, just as he did with Bill Paxton character showing the computer-simulated Titanic sinking to Gloria Stuart. Grace tells Jake how the avatars work, as a way of secretly telling us. Not only that, but part of Jake’s assignment is to keep a video diary, which gives us a practical narration throughout the film. Jake’s avatar (Grace and another scientist have them as well) is a towering, blue, cat-nosed being with superhuman grace and senses. He’s immediately thrilled with the prospect of walking again, let alone leaping and climbing through the trees.

Jake’s mission on Pandora is to infiltrate the Na’vi, the alien half of his alien/human hybrid. They’re peaceful, at one with nature, connected to a higher spiritual realm, brutal warriors, blue, cat-nosed, etc. Neytiri, a female Na’vi, serves as Jake’s guide, protector (those dogs are fucking big), and eventually, of course, lover. By this time, Jake is already on the side of the Na’vi, much to the dismay of the military and corporate factions of his mission, represented by Stephen Lang and Giovanni Ribisi, respectively. Will Jake betray the Na’vi to please his superiors, or will he follow his heart? Will corporate greed and military might snuff out the beautiful natural and spiritual wonders of Pandora? Will day-glow pterodactyls fight missile-firing hovercraft? So many questions.

I’m sure I’ve made Avatar sound cheesy and predictable, too on-the-nose with its Dances With Wolves-style us-versus-them/them-is-us plotline. What you’re leaving out is the absolutely stunning execution of this story and movie. Avatar transitions seamlessly from scenes on the military bases to scenes on Pandora. Every plant, creature and Na’vi look as authentic as any of the humans, even though Avatar sets up obstacles to the suspension of disbelief. Sigourney Weaver is the most recognizable actor in Avatar, so it would be risky to create a CGI character based on her appearance, right? That sounds distracting. It’s not. We’re completely comfortable with Weaver’s Grace, because Weaver is a good actor. And we’re completely comfortable with Grace’s avatar, because when we see her, the resemblance is to Grace, not Weaver. That’s a fine line, I realize, but I’m telling you, I bought this shit from the beginning. Besides Weaver, Cameron places a few other shout-outs to his own career in Avatar. There are exoskeleton tanks, oil-slick aliens in the dark, corporations as villains, tough females (Michelle Rodriguez plays a smartass pilot) and undoubtedly, a giant hero who will be back.

There’s a little opposition to Avatar, of course, because of what surely looks to some people like one homage too many. Besides Dances With Wolves, you probably also detect shades of The Last Samurai, Aliens, Gorillas in the Mist, The Matrix and dozens of others. The movie I thought of most during Avatar was The Thin Red Line. Like Avatar, its director, Terence Malick, took forever between projects. Even once The Thin Red Line was announced, it was years before its release. The result is a meditative movie about World War II, released the same year as the brutal Saving Private Ryan, but focusing not on the horrors of war, necessarily, but on the toll the events take on the mental, spiritual and natural worlds at play. We hear the thoughts of the soldiers, and get lingering close-ups of grass blowing, while bullets ricochet in the background.

We see another view of war too: one of two soldiers gone AWOL, living in a beach village with natives. In one of the best, most haunting scenes I’ve ever seen in a film, the natives walk along the water, clapping and singing. I own The Thin Red Line, and mostly it’s for that scene. Malick does everything in this moment that he shoots for during the rest of the movie, including the narration, the soothing views of nature, and the all-star cast (The Thin Red Line boasts Sean Penn, George Clooney, Woody Harrelson, Adrien Brody, Jim Caviezel, John Cusack, Nick Nolte and John Travolta.). The Thin Red Line isn’t as fun as Avatar—How could it be?—but its message is the same: greed funds the killing of innocence, with nature as collateral damage. To say those day-glow pterodactyls sweeten the medicine is putting it mildly.

Avatar: A-

The Thin Red Line: A-