Avatar: Fire and Ash Review: The Saga’s Boldest and Most Heartfelt Chapter Yet

People love to claim Avatar left zero cultural footprint, and yet every time James Cameron drops another one, theaters turn into a pilgrimage site. Avatar: Fire and Ash keeps that streak rolling. Parts of it do feel like deleted scenes from The Way of Water stitched into a new movie, but Cameron cranks up the emotion and personal stakes enough that this third entry ends up the strongest of the series so far.

So what is Fire and Ash actually about?

We pick up not long after The Way of Water. Jake Sully (Sam Worthington), Neytiri (Zoe Saldana), and the kids are still reeling from Neteyam’s death. The grieving doesn’t last long. While traveling with the Tlalim Clan (aka the Wind Traders), they’re ambushed by the Mangkwan, better known as the Ash People — a Na’vi clan, not humans. That twist matters, because the threat this time doesn’t start with the RDA.

Of course, it gets worse. The Ash People strike a deal with Colonel Quaritch (Stephen Lang) and the RDA, turning a clan-versus-clan problem into a full-blown war. The Sullys and their adopted Metkayina family gear up for another fight to protect each other and, again, the fate of Pandora.

Yes, it feels familiar. No, that’s not an accident.

Early chatter out of preview screenings wasn’t wrong: Fire and Ash shares a lot of DNA with The Way of Water — settings, beats, even the rhythm of the conflict. But Cameron has never been shy about his themes. He’s loud and clear about cycles that repeat: war churns on, people keep treating the planet like an open bar tab, and the powerful always reach for more. Subtle? Not really. Consistent? Absolutely. And that repetition is part of the point.

You don’t bet against Cameron when he goes big, blunt, and all-in on feeling.

Why this one hits harder: the people

The character work is the best it’s been, full stop. With Cameron writing alongside Rick Jaffa and Amanda Silver, the movie swings from world-shaking stakes to intimate, messy family dynamics without dropping the ball. If Fire and Ash lands for you, it’ll be because of these arcs:

• Jake and Neytiri: They’re both shattered by Neteyam’s death, but they cope differently. Jake’s still wired like a former human Marine, which clashes with Neytiri’s more traditional Na’vi way of processing loss. That tension bleeds into how they parent the kids.
• Lo’ak (Britain Dalton): He blames himself for his brother’s death and is desperate to prove himself to his dad. He’s still a kid trying to carry an adult-sized burden, and the father-son story that grows from that is easily one of the movie’s strongest threads.
• Neytiri’s inner conflict: She hates the Sky People. Her husband used to be one. Her children have human DNA. The movie doesn’t hand-wave that away, and it gives her complicated, specific beats to play.
• Kiri (Sigourney Weaver): The Sullys’ adopted daughter wants answers — about her birth, her father, and how she connects to Eywa. Her faith is unshakeable, which puts her in sharp contrast with the Ash People.
• Varang and the Ash People (Oona Chaplin): Their home was obliterated by a volcanic eruption. They begged Eywa for help; nothing came. They turned their backs on her, and they live with that anger. Historically they’ve been more combative than other clans, and this is the first time we see a Na’vi clan show open aggression toward other Na’vi. They’re the most compelling new wrinkle the franchise has introduced in a while.
• Quaritch (Stephen Lang): Still stuck in a Na’vi body as a recombinant, he starts out riding for the RDA. Partnering with Varang forces him to re-evaluate what he is now, and why. It’s the most interesting the character has ever been — the iffy Way of Water reset suddenly feels worth it because of where this movie takes him.
• Spider (Jack Champion): Still divisive? Try more divisive. The character is written thin, the performance doesn’t help, and he’s not a side garnish this time — he’s central. For some viewers, that will be a real problem.

197 minutes that actually fly

It runs 197 minutes, but unlike The Way of Water, there’s very little drift. With six editors on deck — Stephen E. Rivkin, David Brenner, Nicolas de Toth, John Refoua, Jason Gaudio, and Cameron himself — the movie juggles a lot of plot without turning into homework. It’s surprisingly clear, snappy, and easy to track given how much is happening.

Craft and spectacle: you know the drill

On a technical level, Cameron and company are still lapping the field. The VFX and production design are immaculate. Pandora remains jaw-dropping, even if this chapter introduces fewer new toys than The Way of Water. The battles are massive, the sound mix has real muscle, and the score does its job. Even the folks who roll their eyes at the franchise generally admit it: these movies look and sound absurdly good.

Should you see it?

If you had even a decent time with the first two, this is a must. It’s the most emotional Avatar, and for my money, the best. See it on the biggest screen you can find, and yes, this is one of the vanishingly rare cases where I’d actually recommend 3D.

Avatar: Fire and Ash opens in theaters December 19.