Avatar, The Way of Water: Romanticism, Colonialism, & the Native American Monolith

Author’s note: This article switches between usage of the terms Native American and Indigenous, not because they are interchangeable, but because there are relevant perspectives mentioned in the article that choose to use one or the other. To respect these differences, both terms will be used accordingly. 

I’d also like to acknowledge that I’m also writing this article from an outside perspective. I’ve tried my best to incorporate Native American/Indigenous perspectives in lieu of writing primarily based on my personal experience, but if things look off please let me know!

Have you ever seen something so magnificent, so filled with potential, that you can’t help but cherish it? That is, until it falls splendidly on its face, showcasing its ugliness for the world to see. 

That’s probably how a lot of people felt when Avatar: The Way of Water hit theaters on December 16th, 2023. The movie goes as follows: after the events of Avatar, lead couple Jake and Neytiri settle down together, raising children in a peaceful world. Then, humans arrive from a now-ruined Earth—including Colonel Quatrich, Avatar’s former villain—to finish Jake off and take over Pandora. To avoid the humans and prepare for the threat, Jake and his family flee to Metkayina, Pandora’s ocean clan. 

Throughout the movie, director James Cameron tries fixing the problems of the first film, especially regarding its colonialist perspectives and the poorly executed parallels between Pandora’s Na’vi people and Native American groups. However, the sequel falls short of Cameron’s ideals in a number of ways, from its casting to its narrative and cultural appropriation. Though Avatar: The Way of Water attempts to criticize colonialism, the film only reiterates it, disavowing and suppressing modern Native American, Indigenous perspectives. 

First things first—what’s better in a movie that tries to uplift Native American culture than white saviorism? Cameron claims to diverge from the “white savior” trope, where whites “rescue” people from marginalized communities (Healthline), but the movie still resorts to savior stereotypes. Though The Way of Water portrays an active struggle against opposing colonial forces, Jake—who is a white colonist in the first movie—is a Na’vi hero, even after he brings war and destruction to the Metkayina Clan. The Way of Water prioritizes white narratives over indigenous ones, recreating the paternalistic Hollywood presumption that “well-meaning white people [are] the saviors of native people” (Refinery29). 

Beyond the narrative itself, colonialism lingers throughout the film’s production. Other than Cliff Curtis, an actor of Māori descent playing Metakayina chief Tonowari, most Na’vi characters are voiced by white actors (CNN)—a clear example of how Indigenous people were not represented in the film’s production. Furthermore, Native groups aren’t understood through the lens of a specific group or tribe. Instead, they’re distilled to a monolithic patchwork of appropriated characteristics: dreadlocks, tribal garments, and accents cobbled from Africa, Southeast Asia, the Caribbean, etc. (Buzzfeed). Moreover, Cameron represents Native Americans through a litany of physical stereotypes, such as revealing clothing, tall, muscular bodies, and facial/body markings. As such, The Way of Water presents itself as a movie by white people for white people, using inaccurate and shallow indigenous representation to romanticize colonial ignorance. 

Do yourself a favor by skipping this three-and-a-half hour monstrosity during the next movie night. Instead, use the time to support Indigenous voices in ways Cameron couldn’t. Indigenous activist and graphic artist Yuè Begay, for example, encourages people to purchase Black and Indigenous merchandise, amplify critiques of the movie, and watch sci-fi movies about real Indigenous peoples: titles like Night Raiders, Rhymes for Young Ghouls, Blood Quantum, and more (source). Autumn Asher BlackDeer, a scholar of decolonization at the University of Denver, also emphasizes the importance of “hiri[ing] [Indigenous] experts in your writing rooms, as your consultants, as your talent, as your leaders, [etc],” which allows Indigenous voices to enter and positively influence mainstream media (Smithsonian). 

Despite its problems, there may be some room to praise The Way of Water. Cameron spent over a decade refining the visual effects of the movie, something that’s apparent in its stunning designs, immersive landscapes, and eye-catching action sequences. However, the story’s gilded beauty doesn’t conceal the troubling narratives relating to Native American, Indigenous peoples. 

At best, Avatar: The Way of Water is an insensitive, ethnocentric attempt to showcase—or save—other cultures. And the worst part? The Way of Water forces a Indigenous monolith upon its audience. By perpetuating forms of white supremacy, the Avatar franchise, as Native American Civil Rights Lawyer Brett Chapman puts it, “whitewashes history to make people feel good about themselves and to justify the status quo,” erasing the many Native American voices that actually need to be heard.

by JOANNA LIU