Originally written February 9, 2026.
Avatar: The Way of Water combines the engaging filmmaking prowess of James Cameron and co with a series of storytelling clichés that make for a predictable three hours, but damnit if they aren’t some of the most spectacular three hours you’ll see.
It’s the visuals that sing the loudest in The Way of Water, and coming to it so soon after rewatching the first film really highlights just how much of a leap this is. The 2009 Avatar still looks pretty remarkable but there are a handful of awkward moments with the lanky blue Na’Vi digitally waddling around these environments. No such limitations exist in The Way of Water—this is a thoroughly stunning movie to behold.
The ocean and underwater visuals in particular are second-to-none. Where the first movie made the forests of Pandora feel positively magical, here it’s the sea that is brought to life with a blending of realism and fantastical creatures and ideas that feels distinctly Cameron through and through. These characters are in and around water for the bulk of the runtime and still I found myself longing to return to the waves as the credits rolled. It’s certainly one of the most lavishing visual feasts I’ve seen on screen.
If the thirteen year gap between the first and second films gave Cameron the technological leap he needed to pull all of this off, it was not enough time for the screenwriting to evolve past the basic story beats that held back Avatar in its debut. The Way of Water is as predictable as can be, competent in its structure for sure but not leaving much to the imagination. The arc here involves Jake Skully and Neytiri shuttling their family away from the forests they’ve called home and taking refuge with a new island-dwelling clan in order to hide from the avatar clone of Colonel Quaritch. Bringing back Stephen Lang’s comically brazen antagonist to be the bad guy yet again is perhaps the film’s biggest surprise but also its biggest letdown. His isn’t a story that ever felt unresolved, and for all the world-building that does happen in The Way of Water it’s inevitably held back by once again having this guy chase Jake Sully around with a machine gun.
And for all his competence, Jake Sully is a knucklehead in The Way of Water, leading his family and the enemy to this peaceful clan that is so obviously going to come under threat from Quaritch it’s agonizing, like a train taking two full hours to derail. It isn’t until three hours and a whole host of destruction and death have passed that Jake finally has the revelation that running away won’t save him or his family. There’s some real screenwriting 101 stuff happening here.
Nevertheless, the ultimate focus on this Na’Vi family helps to lend The Way of Water a different flavor than its predecessor, and the kids themselves are compelling characters in their own right. There’s Neteyam and Lo’ak, the two brothers eager to live up to their father’s expectations and look out for each other. There’s Tuk, the youngest daughter hanging on to innocence as long as she can. And then there’s Kiri, daughter of Sigourney Weaver who was adopted by the Sullys. She’s the best new character, discovering over the course of the film a deep connection to Eywa that bonds her with nature and wildlife.
There’s also Spider, a human boy who happens to be the son of Quaritch and who has found a chosen family in the Sullys. Spider is fine. Jack Champion embodies the character well, especially given that he is the only human in many of his scenes and has taken on some of the mannerisms and hissing of the Na’vi that would sure seem bizarre if it weren’t for everything else going on. But the double whammy of Quaritch returning plus the rather contrived appearance of his child was something I never fully got over.
If it sounds like I’m down on The Way of Water, truthfully these are all fairly minor complaints. Cameron doesn’t necessarily traffic in subtlety or inventive storytelling, and he doesn’t need to. These films, for all their shortcomings, are the kind of science fiction escapism—or I guess “science fantasy” as he calls it—that I’ll probably always be down for. It’s a fun story brimming with life and color. Could it be smarter, deeper? Sure, but I’ll always save a seat at the table for a big ass popcorn movie.
Notes from Nate 
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