Avatar: 3-Disc Collector's Edition [Blu-Ray]

After James Cameron spends a good 20 minutes reminiscing about playing in the woods and catching frogs as a child on the "Pandora" environmentalist plea supplement and the feature-length "Capturing Avatar" documentary included in this box set, he discusses his approach to visual effects. Noting the irony of purporting technological advancement in a story that offers surface criticism of said progressive mentality, he brags about discovering unexplored visual landscapes and being so far ahead of everyone else in the effects industry that their catching up is a near impossibility. This coming from the man that stood on a stage in front of his peers and exclaimed, "I'm the King of the world!" rings of more truth than any of the faux-eco-friendly sound bytes designed for the liberal media. Avatar isn't Ferngully; it's Dances with Wolves on steroids, with added patronizing racism and male ego wish fulfilment tossed in for good measure. It's the fantasy of a man living in the vacuum of power and opportunity others can never dream of, bitching because the culture that granted the privilege and significance he exploits doesn't actually make him the "King of the world." Think about it: Avatar is the story of an ex-soldier suffering an identity crisis because his culture doesn't implicitly champion warriors in an antiquated caveman capacity. An unlikely twist of events takes him to another world where he's able to integrate with, and assimilate to, a simpler spiritual, rigid, uniform ideologue that allows the worship of a man who dominates through physical trials and ritual animal slaughter. Once he proves superior, he can pick the woman he wants (it's not rape if she's obligated) and bark orders since there's no pesky feminism or free will, or differing beliefs, to get in the way of him banging his chest and pissing on rocks to mark his territory. Once he's climbed to the top of the hill and kicked everyone else down, they all have to praise him for his awesomeness. It's easy to see why this fantasy would appeal to James Cameron and other power-obsessed men, but why women and other minorities jumped on the bandwagon is perplexing and indicative of cinematic illiteracy and aesthetic preoccupation. Adding insult to injury, Avatar attempts, in a condescending manner, to show its appreciation for humble, spiritual peoples and then proceeds to have an outsider step in, dominate then teach these animalistic warriors how to fight and think, since they're incapable of doing it on their own. It's insulting. Exacerbating the vulgarity of this already repugnant ego trip are the successive theatrical, DVD and Blu-Ray releases every few months, bloating its supposed importance via hours of deleted and incomplete scenes, featurettes on performance capture, scoring and stunts, along with three separate cuts of the film, each nudging the three-hour mark. Perhaps this three-disc collector's edition of the film will appeal to adamant fans on a technical level, giving added exhaustive insight on the process of melding performance and animation, along with an alternate opening that is essentially glib voiceover and moping. But, overall, the set is ostensibly little more than the applied excess and arrogance that make the film so smug and sociologically terrifying. Sure, Avatar is visually stunning, if gaudy, but its antiquated, glorifying values subjugate and exclude.