Senin, 22 Desember 2025

Avatar "The Fire and Ash": Is it really DRY? [PART 1]

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When Avatar 3 premiered in theaters, I didn’t go to see it right away. I’ve always been the type of person who, if there’s a movie, I think I’ll love or something I’ve just discovered, I never watch it on opening day. I usually wait a few days, or a week even two before finally heading to the cinema: just to give it a little breathing room.

During that waiting period, I saw several posts and comments on social media, saying that Avatar 3 was boring. Their reasons were that it felt repetitive, focused too much on the water clan (Metkayina), didn’t highlight the "Fire and Ash" clan enough, and had an underwhelming score. Regarding the visuals, almost everyone agreed they were top-tier. Some even said they were better than before, though in my opinion, Avatar has always been strong in that department from the start. It just seems like many felt this one took it even further. After finally watching it myself, I began to understand. I could see which parts people meant when they called it repetitive or "dry."

Just a quick disclaimer: my writing here is more about how many things most people considered "really bad," but to me, they weren't actually that terrible. In fact, there were certain things that people rarely mentioned but I found quite distracting, at least in my version of "annoying." Even this is not a debate page, but yes it will be a bit argumentative 😆 Well, I just want to look at Avatar 3 from my own perspective as a fan of fantasy and sci-fi, especially since Avatar is on my favorites list. But just because I’m a fan doesn’t mean I’m blind to its flaws. There are parts that I found odd. Not enough to make me dislike the movie, but there were moments or scenes that just felt a bit "off." To keep things simple, I’ll refer to the movies as Avatar 1, Avatar 2, and Avatar 3.

After watching it twice, first in 3D and then in 2D, I can say: yes, the visuals are indeed stunning. If people say the difference is massive compared to the previous film, I wouldn’t go that far. But it definitely feels more refined. It still emphasizes extraordinary visuals, especially in terms of color, lighting, and the way Pandora "lives" on screen. There’s a subtle but consistent visual quality that makes it a joy to watch. Regarding the repetitiveness, yes, I did feel it in some parts. But it’s not like a "copy-paste" job. It’s more that the plot beats are similar or follow a similar pattern. Even so, there are still differences, or what I would call "developments," in the storyline.

For example, there are new characters, character growth for existing ones, or different emotional moments. So, while it feels repetitive, it’s not entirely stagnant. For me personally, that repetitive feeling started to kick in after the Mangkwan clan (Fire and Ash) attacked the Tlalil clan (Windtraders). The chaotic ending in the sky involves the Tlalil’s airship crashing, Neytiri getting hit by Varang’s arrow and falling, and Jake Sully and the kids falling as well. The whole family ends up scattered in the forest. When the children gather and witness Varang and her people oppressing the Tlalil clan, that’s when I started feeling a sense of familiarity, like something I’d seen before in Avatar 2. Jake Sully also loses, but he manages to get down to the forest and starts searching for his children and Neytiri. Meanwhile, the kids are scattered throughout the woods.

In Avatar 2, the four children, Lo’ak, Kiri, Tuk, and Spider, were playing in the forest. They then encountered fake Na’vi from the RDA ship along with the Na’vi carrying Colonel Quaritch's memories and appearance, at the site of his death in Avatar 1, complete with his human remains and skull inside an RDA robot. The kids were caught peeking and Quaritch began chasing them with his team. In the third Avatar, the pattern feels similar, but the context is different. This time, they aren't just bumping into an enemy; they are spying on the Mangkwan situation, which is chaotic and happening right in front of them in the same forest. On the other hand, Quaritch manages to capture Jake Sully. But eventually, Quaritch has to "join" or is forced to cooperate because they have one common goal: saving Spider. So, the position is somewhat reversed and more complex. The four kids are being hunted, but this time it’s not the RDA, it’s the Mangkwan clan. In Avatar 2, the pursuers were Quaritch and the RDA team. In Avatar 3, it's another Na’vi clan, the Mangkwan. That’s one significant shift. Then, another development happens with the characters. The relationship between Jake Sully and Quaritch begins to move into a gray area. For the first time, even if only briefly and by force, they unite for the same purpose.

The Evolution of Lo’ak and the "Boomer" Conflict

Then there’s another part that felt repetitive to me, yet interesting because of the growth in both the moments and the characters. In Avatar 3, there’s a scene where the Metkayina clan leaders hold a meeting with the Tulkun elders to discuss Payakan’s exile. During this, Lo’ak, Tsireya and her siblings, also Spider, and Kiri, all rebel. But Lo’ak is the most expressive and emotional. Right after that, Jake Sully pulls him away, basically telling him to shut up, stay out of trouble, and not make things worse.

This moment reminded me so much of Avatar 2. Back then, there was a scene where Kiri was lying on the shore, just enjoying the sand and the view. A group of Metkayina teens, including the leader’s kids, Aonung and Rotxo, came by. They teased Kiri, calling her "weird," and Lo’ak stepped in bravely to defend her. Neteyam eventually arrived to de-escalate things because, after all, the Omaticaya were newcomers and guests there. But as they turned to leave, Aonung (or Rotxo, I forget which) kept mocking them. Lo’ak lost his temper, went back, and punched him.

That led to a sort of "unofficial trial": a gathering to scold Lo’ak. His position was the same: he was seen as a troublemaker. He defended himself by saying he only fought because Kiri was being harassed. Again, Jake Sully pulled Lo’ak inside, lectured him, and essentially blamed him. The pattern is very similar. However, at the end of that moment in Avatar 2, there’s a small but vital difference. Jake asks, "Did the other guy look worse?" and Lo’ak answers proudly, "Yeah." Lo’ak felt acknowledged, even if Jake didn't explicitly show his pride and just held back his expression.

Now, in Avatar 3, this similar moment evolves into something much more emotional. After Jake pulls him away again, Lo’ak fights back. He refuses to just accept the blame. He finally finds his voice: asking why his father never truly listens to him, why he’s always the one accused, and why his brother’s death feels like a burden of guilt placed on his shoulders for the rest of his life. Lo’ak even pushes Jake in the chest here, something he never did in Avatar 2, where he was always silent and "obedient." To me, this felt like a minor repetition of the previous pattern, but with clear character development. In Avatar 2, Lo’ak was quiet. In Avatar 3, he speaks up louder. He wants to be heard and understood.

Notes: There might be many other small or large repetitions that I missed, I don’t have them all memorized, but these are the ones that really stuck in my head. At least I'm sharing my version of how it felt. Now, let’s jump to the next part.

Toruk Makto and the Strategy of War

Next, let's talk about Jake Sully as Toruk Makto. In Avatar 1, he wins over the Toruk by finding its cave; only the "chosen one" can control the Toruk, and Jake succeeds. He rides the Toruk to the Omaticaya clan to be accepted back since he no longer shares the RDA's mission. In Avatar 2, he doesn't focus much on being Toruk Makto, but in Avatar 3, he stops denying that identity, despite the psychological burden of losing Neteyam. Eventually, he returns to the Toruk’s cave and truly embraces his role. This pattern exists across all three films. Similarly, the way Jake gives a speech and rallies the Na’vi to fight follows a familiar pattern.

Then there’s the battle preparation scene. The Na’vi clans that have been "invited" to war gather, clinging to rocks or hiding in the forest, ready to strike the Sky People’s ships. This is also very similar to Avatar 2. But for me, this isn’t a big deal. In terms of war logic, that’s just how it’s done. How else are you going to gather the Na’vi and prepare for battle?

The big difference, however, comes when the attack starts. In Avatar 2, when the attack begins, the Na’vi charge immediately. They hide, take their positions, fly in, and when they are nearly defeated, Eywa intervenes by sending land animals to help. In Avatar 3, the sequence changes. The Tulkun finally listen to Payakan and Lo’ak, and they are the ones who strike first. The Tulkun destroy the Sky People's ships right from the start. From my perspective, this "lightens" the load for the Na’vi. They aren't starting from a position of weakness anymore; they are just following through and finishing the job.

As a side note, Tsireya and her siblings also experience character growth—moving from being quiet and "obedient" to bravely speaking up for the truth. Honestly, I had a little chuckle here; it felt like watching Boomer parents arguing with late Millennials or Gen Z in a real-world family setting. It’s repetitive in pattern, but there’s a clear evolution in strategy and the roles of other creatures.

The Presence of Eywa

It doesn't end there. There is another major development. In Avatar 1, Eywa’s presence is direct, massive, and confrontational. Jake Sully explicitly prays to Eywa at the Tree of Souls. At that point, Jake acts as a bridge between humans and Pandora, asking Eywa to "see" the destruction brought by humans and consider the fate of the Na’vi. Eywa’s answer is physical: the Angtsìk charging from the land, the Palulukan, an apex predator that even lets Neytiri ride it, and the Ikrans filling the sky. Land, air, and the entire ecosystem move as one. This is the moment Eywa chooses to intervene directly.

In contrast, in Avatar 2 and 3, Eywa’s presence undergoes a significant shift: it’s more subtle, passive, and reflective. She was a bit slow, as if there was no answer, but finally, it appeared. Eywa appears through sea creatures, specifically the bioluminescent squid-like entities connected to the Spirit Tree of the Metkayina, and by moving the hearts of the Tulkun elders. This presence isn't for war, but for connecting memory, consciousness, and spirituality.


** Let's go to the PART 2 !!!

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