James Cameron’s drive as a filmmaker has always been to discover the unseen. In that way, Avatar: The Way of Water marks an unprecedented accomplishment. Visually, this sequel has no comparison. The closest thing would probably be actually visiting another planet. Set in an arrestingly beautiful reef territory of the distant Pandora, the story—in its sweeping view of fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, clans, conflict, and the rhythm of nature that inevitably connects all things—is as primal as it gets. (The “But is it relatable?” crowd need not apply. It’s still a movie about blue people.)
As for the plot specifics: The Way of Water probably didn’t need a white, dreadlocked “monkey boy” to double down on the vague air of cultural appropriation. (A dissertation on Na’vi ethnic signifying awaits.) And when the “sky people” (read: militaristic humans) invade with bigger, badder weapons, you might be able to guess who wins, who dies. But you might not expect an alien whale-like creature to bring you to tears in the process. (Oh, just wait for that whale.) As in any Cameron movie, it’s best to let go of expectations, and instead keep your eyes wide open to its sense of revelation.
