Confessions of a reformed Avatard

I hate Avatar.

I hate it as an idea.

I hate it for its politics.

I hate it because of James Cameron and how his ego drowns out anything and everything about the movie itself.

I hate it because of the mind-numbing monotony of the endless fanfare over its technical advances.

I hate it because during the months of October-March you could not go a day without hearing the word.

I hate the way Cameron sat there at the Academy Awards just sure as shit that he’d be walking away with a garbage bag full of statues.

More than anything, though, I hate it as a thing. An all-consuming thing that can neither be escaped nor ignored.

Now that’s a whole lot of hate for something I hadn’t seen until tonight.

Yes, I caved. I was returning a movie to Blockbuster and I was once again face to face with one of those giant blue cat people. I made a deal with myself. If they had it in Blu-Ray I would get it. I figure if I’m going to see the damn thing it might as well be the right way. I checked the shelf and there was nada. I wasn’t shocked, seeing as how there were only seven spots for it on the shelf. And how many people had rented it since Thursday when it came out? 10,000?

On a whim I decided to ask at the counter if they had a copy that was yet to be re-shelved. I’m not gonna lie, when he came back with one in his hand I was a little bit shocked. They never, ever, ever, ever, not ever find what you’re looking for in that corner. It has seriously never worked for me. I don’t care if I was looking for Weekend at Bernie’s 2, somehow there would be an asshole out there who rented it an hour before I arrived. It’s like the island of misfit toys for god sake.

So I walked out with my movie that I never really wanted to see in the first place. “Maybe I’ll check it out when it hits Netflix,” I had said to myself. But there I was, blaspheming my own sermon. I also got some ice cream because Baskin-Robbins is next door. Fuckers. They always get me.

I popped it in. It was go time. I had my overly-critical hat on and I was ready to point out the movie’s flaws in rapid-fire and devastating fashion. I knew I was going to hate it, after all … right?

But then I ran into a problem that we all face at some point in our lives. I realized that there was nothing here to hate. The movie is simply out-of-this-world gorgeous to look at, and while the plot is nothing groundbreaking, it turns out that a movie so phenomenally-crafted can totally make up for an otherwise lukewarm experience. On more than one occasion I thought I was in danger of being attacked by one of those armored hammerhead shark dinosaurs.

As the movie continued I started to feel unsettled. Not because the movie was bad, but rather because it was good. I knew I was wrong and that my hatred was just a part of my natural distrust in anything that the whole world loves. I hate going with the crowd, because the crowd is almost always wrong.

And it didn’t even matter that the head of the human army was a caricature of the bloodthirsty American military cliche. It didn’t matter that they bludgeoned you over the head with “the only reason we’re here is for the stuff in the ground” corollary. It doesn’t matter that I still have a raging boner for Natiri. *looks around suspiciously*

Forget the hoopla, forget the politics, forget the up-his-own-assness of Cameron and just watch the movie. (I realize that I don’t really know who that last sentence is aimed at since 5.7 billion people have already seen it, but whatever)

I opened up telling you how much I hated it so I could let you know without a doubt that I didn’t buy the bullshit that was constantly fed to me. But I also put it in so that you will have an easier time understanding the magnitude of my closing statement:

It is a beautiful piece of work.

P.S. – Titanic still sucks horse balls.