I've said it before, and I'll say it again. Avatar is an insult to the film-making industry, and James Cameron is a disgrace to directors everywhere. He combined Pocahontas, Dances with Wolves, and pretty much every movie ever made about how white men are evil and indians are mystical uber-hippies completely at one with nature. He then removed all of the nouns and played mad-libs, while randomly poking his keyboard (ensuring that vowels outnumbered consonants at least two to one, for that pleasant, airy sound) to create names.
The creatures were nothing but the result of randomly flipping through a National Geographic and wondering what would happen if two dissimilar creatures were to "mate for life." It should be noted that he cleverly ensured his film would appeal to ricers everywhere by putting carbon-fiber in places that nature never intended it. Much like the double wing on the back of a Honda Civic, skeletal structures are in no way a tasteful application of carbon-fiber.
In his desire to make sure that absolutely everyone who saw the movie properly grasped the scope of the evil that these wicked capitalists were unleashing upon the eco-friendly aliens, he dragged out the movie an hour and a half longer than he should have. I was even anxious for fight scenes to end, and there is nothing I like more than watching mech-warriors battle the unholy offspring of Smurfette and Lanky Kong.
My hat is off to any man, woman, child, or elongated smurf that can watch that cinematic abortion 5 times and walk away happy. My testicular fortitude only carried me through the first hour before I began to weep self-consciously at the thought of another portion of my life, wasted, and gone forever.
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