Avatar: The Way of the Water is a simply spectacular sequel to James Cameron's Avatar

Thirteen Years ago, James Cameron wrote and directed the highest-grossing lm of all time, Avatar (2009). To say its sequel was highly anticipated, would be an understatement.

Sayoni Ghosh, MA English

Thirteen years after James Cameron wrote and directed the highest-grossing lm of all time, Avatar (2009), he's come back with a sequel, Avatar: The Way of Water (2022).

The lm follows the life of Jake Sully (Sam Worthington) fourteen years after the Na’vi were able to defend their sacred land of Pandora under his leadership. We nd him as the chief of the Omatikaya clan and as a family man, raising ve children with Neytiri (Zoe Saldana). But trouble looms over them as the Resources Development Administration (RDA) or, in other words, the Sky People return, this time to colonise Pandora.

Stephen Lang reprises his role as antagonist Miles Quaritch, who has been revived by transferring his memories to a new avatar. He is the leader of the paramilitary security division of the RDA and wants to kill Jake Sully regardless of the cost. To protect his clan, Jake leaves with his family to take shelter under the Metkayina clan, the reef people.

and Kiri (Sigourney Weaver), their adopted daughter, who struggles with discovering her identity.

James Cameron takes us on a sensational ride to show an exquisite and immersive world of Pandora’s ocean life and how the battle between mankind and the children of Eywa continues. Russel Carpenter’s masterful cinematography makes the lm a heroic and extraordinary theatrical phenomenon.

It is truly breathtaking how well Cameron has interwoven environmental storytelling into this spine-tingling adventure and so many thoughtful and emo- truncated, but the massive scale of the franchise does not steal from the intimate and raw moments of each character. It did not fail to give me goosebumps or make me shed a tear and it was a powerful way to end 2022 in the world of cinema.

Returning characters from the rst lm are developed; we see an empathetic side of Jake Sully in his determination to protect his family and how he copes with being a father; we see Miles come to terms with his son; we see Neytiri ght the internal battle of accepting humans. We are also introduced to new characters in Jake’s children, who have such distinct personalities that it is di cult not to get emotionally attached to them. My personal favourites are Lo'ak (Britain Dalton), their second eldest son, who struggles to win his father’s approval, clude an epic underwater chase sequence and ght scene, are jaw-dropping. The lm’s stunning score by Simon Franglen gives due credit to the late James Horner’s unforgettable soundtrack from the rst lm during the intense moments, beautifully capturing the tension.

I gazed with awe at an entirely different way of living life for our main characters, whether it be their relationship with various animals of the reef world, learning the art of breathing underwater, or the cultural context of intelligent herds of majestic whale-like creatures called tulkun. Every frame of the underwater scenes is mesmerising, and we are introduced to an entirely new world in this already-existing universe.

We can see the love and passion of thirteen long years oozing from every scene, every storytelling choice, every action sequence, every dialogue delivery and every character transformation.

Its runtime of three hours and twelve minutes does feel long at certain points and could have been

Tar is a film about orchestrated corruption and abusive power dynamics

Todd Field wrote and directed Tar with Cate Blanchett in mind for the lead. It tells a tale of misconduct, manipulation, and a power-hungry conductor who abuses her position of power in the music industry.

Frankie Raudnitz, Third Year, English

Tár (2022) is set in the intriguing international world of Westen classical music. The– entirely ctional– Lydia Tár (Cate Blanchett) is widely regarded to be one of the most successful living composers/conductors of her time and a trailblazer for female conductors. Slowly, allegations of misconduct begin to surface, whilst her abusive, manipulative and sel sh personality does her no favours. The lm follows her dramatic fall from grace.

At its core, Tár is a commentary about the recent surge of the #MeToo movement and ‘cancel culture’, but to reduce it to just that would be oversimplifying it entirely. The lm is two hours and forty minutes of stunning visuals, gut-clenching tension and scintillating performances.

Much of Todd Field’s masterpiece dips into points of abstract horror, with unexplainable moments littering the lm and building a sense of unease and darkness.

The most impressive element of the lm is Cate Blanchett’s performance.

Written solely with Blanchett in mind, Lydia Tár combines enigmatic con dence, control and talent with a very dark side.

She belittles her assistant (Noémie Merlant), whom she knows is vying to become a conductor herself, hanging her on a string without ever letting her go.

Tár will do anything to get what she wants, from purposely choosing a cellist she nds attractive to be in her orchestra to rigging a solo in order to spend time alone with her. Tár’s con dent inconsistency shocks throughout the lm, but the conductor carries it o with such con dence that you barely notice it happening.

She is known for commissioning work by female composers but insists that bias against women has ceased. She sets up a programme for budding female conductors but uses it to unfairly favour and exploit (mostly younger) women who she nds attractive.

Blanchett handles the topic of female abusers with care and nuance, embodying a sense of masculinity and dominance in the lm. You cannot take your eyes o her.

Despite being central to the plot, the allegations against Lydia Tár are never fully embellished beyond a badly-edited Twitter video or a one-sentence newspaper clipping. The vagueness of the allegations that Lydia has ‘enticed and groomed young women’ leaves almost everything to the imagination.

Krista Taylor is Lydia’s most prominent victim in the lm, but we only ever see the young woman’s desperate emails and the back of her head as she watches Lydia in an interview. The lack of attention on these allegations makes Lydia Tár a mere symbol of how corrupting power can be, and the lm is far more focused on her complex personality than an elaborate court case.

Alongside Lydia Tár’s emotional intensity, the unrelenting brutalist spaces created by production designer Marco Bittner Rosser don’t give you an inch to breathe. The visuals are angular, cold and sparse, re ecting Lydia’s inner world.

As her stony exterior gives way to a woman cracking under pressure, sound is the main thing that haunts her; a rogue metronome, the fridge light buzzing in the middle of the night, or a mysterious ‘dinging’ sound.

The moments of silence are also crucial in the lm. They are even more haunting in comparison to the booming orchestra or detailed background sounds.

Tár is an incredible lm. The rigorous attention to detail is what makes it so special - Lydia’s idiosyncrasies, the framing of each shot and the subtlety of each individual look from the actors. Fundamentally, Tár is about power, control and corruption, and you will be left thinking about it for days after.