For a movie saga that is, on paper at least, the world’s most popular fantasy trilogy of all time, Avatar doesn’t half have its sceptics. Maybe it’s James Cameron’s po-faced belief that he’s making the sort of films that could save planet Earth from future environmental apocalypse. Or perhaps it has simply become the kind of cultural behemoth that invites opposition merely by existing. Either way, it’s fair to say not everyone has exactly been sobbing over the idea that Fire and Ash might be the final time we get to see an Avatar film for the foreseeable future.
Until recently, this had seemed like a genuine likelihood. The Hollywood trades have been filled with reports that the saga would be done and dusted if the new instalment fell short of expectations at the box office, while Cameron himself has been publicly talking about what happens if Avatar 4 and 5 don’t get made. Those who would rather chew on their own spleens than sit through six more hours of glowing eco-sermons ever again will have been quietly encouraged by last week’s relatively puny box-office opening for the new episode, reportedly just over $340m worldwide on debut.
But then (as Avatar films tend to do) it began to pick up. After its third weekend in cinemas, it crossed $1bn and box-office analysts suggest it could now be on course to hit the $2bn mark achieved by both previous instalments. And even if that target turns out to be overambitious, the new episode will probably do well enough to get the next two films – which are already written (and in the case of 4, partly filmed) – properly greenlit.
It is worth remembering at this point that Fire and Ash’s box-office pattern is not some unexpected quirk of the Avatar business model so much as its entire reason for still being in business. Cameron’s films have always opened steadily before picking up (albeit at glacial pace). They loiter in cinemas for months, steadily converting scepticism into grudging acceptance and then, eventually, into enormous piles of money. Avatar and Avatar: The Way of Water are respectively the first and third-highest grossing films of all time. And yet the opening weekend panic is almost a ritual at this point, a bit like solemnly announcing that the tide seems worryingly low just before it comes roaring back in and soaks everyone’s trousers.
Yet there is still the nagging sense that Cameron is waiting for the inevitable point where filmgoers lose interest. Part of the reason for this might be that Avatar doesn’t seem to have a legion of hardcore fans in the way Star Wars and Marvel do: it’s as if the saga occupies a strange cultural blind spot, despite the minor counterargument that several billion people have paid to see it. Could it be that Avatar is simply cinema for the sort of people who don’t actually argue much about cinema online, a franchise powered less by geeky fandom than by the general public’s quiet, mildly awestruck acquiescence to the stereoscopic multiplex machine?
In the beginning … the human stars of 2009’s original Avatar; from left, Sam Worthington, Michelle Rodriguez, Sigourney Weaver and Joel David Moore. Photograph: 20 Century Fox/Sportsphoto/Allstar
If so, this might explain why every new instalment is treated as a referendum on Hollywood’s future. And yet for movies that basically stare you down earnestly and insist that you care about interconnected ecosystems, spiritual networks and the terrible consequences of industrial greed, it’s hard to argue more than a decade and a half in that they don’t have some serious staying power. The alternative though doesn’t bear thinking about. If Fire and Ash really had bombed, Cameron had been threatening to release the next two episodes as novels. Just imagine this: War and Peace but with phosphorescent flora, entire chapters devoted to Na’vi rituals, appendices and maps, possibly footnotes explaining the correct ceremonial use of body paint and humming.
At least now it appears we’ll be getting Avatars 4 and 5 in the format they were always intended to be presented in. The saga will continue to divide, confuse and mildly irritate people who would rather it didn’t exist, while quietly, relentlessly proving that seriousness, spectacle and very large blue aliens remain a potent commercial combination. Until, that is, we do this all over again when Avatar 4 comes out, at which point everyone will once more announce its imminent failure with the confidence of people who have learned absolutely nothing.