Seeing James Cameron’s Avatar is like seeing a mashup of modern myth. The question has been asked – for $300 million, couldn’t they pay someone to write a new story? I’d say for 300 million, they probably couldn’t afford the risk.
And while I doubt the wisdom of lamenting the derivative nature of a Hollywood blockbuster, I am interested by all the narrative and aesthetic parallels that have been drawn out. In a grand and spontaneous effort, everyone finishes their popcorn, rides home wishing they were in Pandora, and blogs about how this cultural artefact connects with all the others.
Beyond the links to Pocahontas, Dune, Dances with Wolves et al, bloggers have pointed out the similarities to narratives from vintage fiction and Roger Dean’s floating islands, and have noted the prevalence of sexy blue ladies in contemporary science fiction. There have been satirical roastings from the Huffington Post and South Park (among others) for lack of originality.
Annalee Newitz’s article When Will White People Stop Making Movies Like Avatar takes a stab at figuring out why our culture seems enthralled by stories ‘where a white guy manages to get himself accepted into a closed society of people of color and eventually becomes its most awesome member’. She says that ‘when whites fantasize about becoming other races, it’s only fun if they can blithely ignore the fundamental experience of being an oppressed racial group. Which is that you are oppressed, and nobody will let you be a leader of anything.’
