In the initial two Avatar films, Cameron unveiled an enchanting sci-fi realm that I thoroughly enjoyed exploring. The flora and fauna of Pandora were captivating. Bioluminescent trees? Stunning. Floating mountains? I’m all in. Gentle space whales? I’m enchanted.

These remarkable creations were brought to life using cutting-edge technology, much of it innovative, like the underwater motion capture in Avatar: The Way of Water. There’s plenty of “new” to appreciate.

So why does Avatar: Fire and Ash, the third installment, feel like a repetition of its forerunners?

Critics may find humor in this, as Avatar is frequently likened to FernGully, Pocahontas, or Dances with Wolves, but set in space. While there are legitimate criticisms of Avatar, these comparisons by themselves are not robust critiques. However, Fire and Ash reuses the finest aspects and plots from earlier Avatar films, crafting a visually stunning movie that relies too heavily on its predecessors instead of presenting fresh elements of Pandora.

What is Avatar: Fire and Ash about?

Fire and Ash opens on a promising note. Jake Sully (Sam Worthington) and Neytiri (Zoe Saldaña) are mourning their son Neteyam (Jamie Flatters), who perished in the climactic fight of Avatar: The Way of Water. His younger brother Lo’ak (Britain Dalton) feels a sense of responsibility for the tragedy.

While strong character development isn’t my primary reason for watching Avatar, this feeling of familial sorrow grounds the narrative. Cameron delves into the characters’ varying levels of anger and grief stemming from Neteyam’s death. Neytiri veers towards anger, while Jake and Lo’ak tend to anguish. The tension is palpable as they strive to rebuild their lives with the ocean-dwelling Metkayina clan, missing one of their essential members.

But peril soon approaches the Sullys. This time, it’s not just humans, including Colonel Miles Quaritch (Stephen Lang) in his revived Na’vi body. It’s also the Mangkwan, or Ash People, a Na’vi clan that has renounced the Pandoran goddess Eywa and conducts aggressive raids on other clans.

The Ash People represent the most thrilling aspect of Avatar: Fire and Ash.

The Mangkwan clan provides Cameron with an opportunity to further examine Pandora’s inhabitants, similar to how the Metkayina clan was showcased in The Way of Water. However, while the Metkayina bore resemblance to Avatar’s forest-dwelling Omatikaya clan in their harmony with Pandora, the Mangkwan present a shocking contrast.

Following a volcanic eruption that obliterated their home, the Ash People turned away from Eywa. They now revere the destructive force of fire. With ash-gray skin, striking red body paint, and warlike tendencies, they stand in stark contrast to the other Na’vi.

Leading them is Varang (Oona Chaplin), a fascinating sorceress who enhances Fire and Ash. Occasionally seductive, sometimes fearsome, Chaplin’s portrayal creates a memorable sci-fi antagonist.

Her performance shines even further when the Mangkwan ally with Quaritch. Lang consistently delivers engaging performances in the Avatar films, and this continues here. He delivers Southern-flavored one-liners with enthusiasm, and Chaplin matches his dynamism. As they cultivate more than just an alliance, they provide an intoxicating counterbalance to Jake and Neytiri’s relationship.

Regrettably, the Mangkwan receive less development than the Omatikaya or Metkayina clans. We don’t really get to know any tribe members outside of Varang, nor do we spend an adequate amount of time in their village, which is a barren wasteland filled with desolate trees and volcanic debris. For a film titled Avatar: Fire and Ash, there is surprisingly less fire and ash than one might expect.

Avatar: Fire and Ash rehashes the top elements of Avatar: The Way of Water.

As the Ash People fade into the background, Cameron revisits narratives from The Way of Water that perhaps would have been best left behind. Why rehash Payakan the tulkun’s underwater rescue of Lo’ak or the RDA’s tulkun brain-harvesting scheme? How did the cartoonishly evil poacher Mike Scoresby (Brendan Cowell) survive being mauled by Payakan?

These narratives worked well in The Way of Water, introducing fresh villains and creatures for an exhilarating naval clash. Here, Cameron attempts to recreate that on a larger scale. Nevertheless, the third act resembles the climax of The Way of Water, which executed it more effectively.

The final sequence, reminiscent of Avatar’s intense showdown, underscores the series’ constraints. There are only so many times we can witness Jake and Quaritch engage or see Pandora’s wildlife come to the rescue. After three films, the stakes should elevate.

Avatar: Fire and Ash remains a breathtaking spectacle.

Had I not seen The Way of Water, Fire and Ash would have left me in marvel. The concluding battle is striking in isolation, but it pales in comparison to the similar sequence in its predecessor.

Luckily, Fire and Ash presents exquisite new elements.