Avatar: Pantheism, proof, and pretty stuff

The subject of SF theology has been widely-discussed for the last week, thanks to James Cameron's Avatar. (It would have to happen when I'm on vacation, huh?) In a column for the New York Times, Ross Douthat demonizes the film for its pantheism; Beliefnet's Pagan blogger Gus di Zerega praises it for the same; for Religion Dispatches, C. Joshua Villines frames the film as a ritual of atonement for "the sins of commercialism and Western triumphalism"; even the Daily Show had its say. The encounter between religion and capitalism is a central aspect of Avatar's story, so theology is at the center of the film's very message-y message.

Avatar tells the story of Jake Sully, a paraplegic Marine who is sent to the distant moon Pandora to operate an "Avatar"-- a hybrid clone designed to let Earthlings blend in with the alien Na'vi and negotiate with them on behalf of a human-run mining operation. He assists Dr. Grace Augustine (choose your own referents for the symbolism in that name), the designer of the avatars, and Col. Quaritch, the mean ol' military commander in charge of protecting the mining operations from native attacks.

The natives in question are the Na'vi, a species of extraordinarily tall blue-skinned humanoids who live in a really big tree. Their culture is based around climbing trees, riding various jungle animals, and communing with Eywa, an apparent earth- (or is that "moon-?") goddess. We come to learn that this communion is concrete-- the Na'vi have a cluster of tentacles mixed in with their hair that enables them to do all kinds of neat things, from linking up to steeds (both ground-based and flying) and connect to their world's network of living things. "Eywa," we realize, isn't some ethereal personification of nature; it's an actual, contactable world-mind, and the Na'vi experience it directly by plugging in their nerve clusters to a particular "sacred grove."

Of course, the mining corporation doesn't care about any of that, so they send their enormous bulldozers and gunships to chop down every tree that the Na'vi care about in order to get to their unobtanium (and oh my goodness I wish Cameron had just used the fanspeak as a placeholder until they could come up with a properly SFnal-sounding mineral name for the final script). Sully, meanwhile, goes native, falling in love with an alien girl and becoming the greatest military leader in Na'vi history. With the help of a few "nice" humans, he's able to drive back the human thugs and save the Na'vi from certain doom.

Most of the discussion of religion in Avatar has focused on the Na'vi's pantheism. I wasn't too impressed with this aspect of the film, to be honest, and not because I think pantheism is a Bad Thing (indeed, I lean toward it a bit, though at the end of the day I'm more into panentheism). Rather, I thought it was a bit on the lazy, underdeveloped side. Though I loved most of the creature designs (I recognized the very skilled hand of Wayne Barlowe immediately), I found the Na'vi culture to be human, all too human. These are supposed to be aliens, but their culture comes across like a New Age-y romanticization of African and Native American culture-- the monolithization of which is part of the problem. (Few things bug me as much as the homogenization of disparate cultures in New Age spirituality-- it's really just a kinder, gentler cultural imperialism.)

There is one really interesting thing about the Na'vi's Gaea religion, though, and that is its basis in their lived experience. They don't just believe that all life is linked, they have the biological hardware to plug into their planet's organic-electric network and experience it. This was the single most original aspect of the alien biology and culture, but I don't think its implications were pushed far enough-- with the result being a half-baked nature spirituality instead of a truly alien culture.

The verifiability of the Na'vi religion is important in the story. A key moment comes when the dying Dr. Augustine, connected to the roots of Pandora's planetary bio-network, announces with her final breath that the Na'vi deity is real. By connecting to the bioelectric network that is Eywa, she "proves" the Na'vi religion. Of course, that proof means nothing to Col. Quaritch, the very-very-bad military leader, who makes mockery of the alien religion a key part of morale-building. His statement that the Na'vi believe their god protects the Tree of Souls earns a group chuckle from his subordinates-- a reaction that seems particularly callous after the destruction we've already seen them wreak upon the aliens. The placement of the comment suggests that this kind of religious prejudice is central to the heartlessness the soldiers display, and, more broadly, that wedding this kind of belief-hatred to military conflict is a way to fast-track the dehumanization that war requires. This kind of thing doesn't just happen in imaginary battles in space, either-- witness atheist spokesman Christopher Hitchens' support of assorted wars in Muslim countries, which is more than a little bit linked to his-- let's say "strong dislike"-- of Islam. The evil corporation is atheistic (as are, ultimately, all corporations), and that atheism is part of its heartlessness: it is able to wreak cruel devastation because it sees nothing to respect in the religion at the center of the Na'vi culture.

The fact that the Na'vi religion is "provable" is intriguing, but Elliot (of Claw of the Conciliator) brought up an interesting point to me-- does this mean the oppression and exploitation of the Na'vi would be OK if their religion weren't based on the scientific fact of their biological abilities? What does the Na'vi ability to demonstrate the grounding of their religious experience say about the faith of those of us who don't have planet-communicating nerve clusters growing out of our heads?

Faith-versus-reason isn't the only thing in Avatar that's more complicated than it may at first appear. There's actually an ironic bit of imperialism at the heart of the story, which suggests that the Na'vi would be helpless if not for the white earthling who dresses up in alien drag and becomes their messiah. And technology gets a boost, as well: the final fight scene shows us Sully (operating his Avatar) fighting Quaritch (operating a big mecha-suit) to protect his alien bride (operating a panther-like predator via her nerve connection)-- all three are using technology of a sort, and it's Sully's, which is a sort of middle ground between the two, that we're supposed to find the neatest.

Of course, all of this is ignoring the single most important thing about Avatar, which is the fact that it's really, really pretty. (Wayne Barlowe, people!) Ultimately, plot, character, and themes are all secondary to the central concern of this film, which is spectacle. There are good guys, and bad guys, and the fact that that religion-- its absence, and its presence (with "proof")-- is part of the division is interesting. But it's important to remember that-- hey, look at that funky rhino-thing!

Comments

[Erin]

I've dubbed that a hippo-hammer-head-opotamus. My favorite parts of Avatar were the bits that felt like a National Geographic special.

[Elliot]

Thanks for the mention. I really do wonder why that character was called Grace Augustine. It's an awfully theological name... And yes, I also winced a little every time they said "unobtainium." BTW, have you read Ursula K. LeGuin's "The Word for World is Forest?" Some definite parallels there.

[Elliot]

Waaaait-a-minute... Wayne Barlowe is the Barlowe of Barlowe's Guide to Extraterrestrials? Huh. Cool!

[Wilder]

Gabe... I'm astounded by your claim that AVATAR's verifiable religion is unusual or unique in pop sci-fi. Aside from a matter of scale, how is the Tree of Souls any different than Vader force-choking a doubter in the Death Star conference room?

I'd argue that confirming religious beliefs and/or mystical thinking is a staple of pop sci-fi. It's a proven path to mainstream appeal: provide a parable where the skeptics are WRONG, and proven wrong by their own measures, regarding religious matters. Fulfill the mass-audience's wish that science confirm the soul, and Heaven, and cosmic justice. It's part of the formula to turn hard SF into Hollywood success, even when it fails. See the end of the film version of CONTACT for just one example.

A side note: I have always had a great admiration for STAR TREK because it has occasionally touched the mainstream while just barely maintaining its lack of religious confirmation (and, in fact, has demonstrated frequent religious doubt). I wonder, as the new incarnation broadens its appeal, how long that can be maintained. AVATAR does not impress me: it disappoints me that it's formulaic even there.

I await the day when there's a movie in the top 10 grossers (adjusted for inflation) that doesn't deal in the confirmation of hocus pocus. But judging by the composition of the human mind, I doubt I will ever see it. (Take note of the top horror film... The Exorcist).

[Gabriel Mckee]

Wilder,

You're right, the fact that Avatar gives a rational explanation for a religious phenomenon isn't unique. But it's interesting that you raise Star Trek as a counterexample, because I would tend to think that Star Trek represents the norm: providing a rational "debunking" that demystifies. The book _God in the Movies_ by Andrew Greeley and Alfred Bergeson complains about precisely this demystification: God can't be God, but has to be a superintelligent alien or an energy being. This is certainly the case in prose SF; I'd have to ponder further to see if I think this is an area where filmed SF differs.

In Avatar, the mysticism isn't debunked by the rational explanation; it's confirmed by it. Of course, one person's debunking is another's confirmation...

In any event, I don't think this film confirms "hocus pocus"-- there are no miraculous events that can't otherwise be explained, just a world-mind with some implications for a specific kind of mystical experience.

[David Ellis]

"It's a proven path to mainstream appeal: provide a parable where the skeptics are WRONG, and proven wrong by their own measures, regarding religious matters. Fulfill the mass-audience's wish that science confirm the soul, and Heaven, and cosmic justice."

Except in Avatar the Na'vi have a purely naturalistic religion. Their afterlife and communion with nature are grounded in what amounts to biotechnologies, not supernatural forces.

The skeptics aren't wrong (and even if we were talking about supernaturalism, it's confirmation doesn't mean skeptics were wrong---not for those skeptics whose position is, as is frequently the case: "show me good evidence and I'll believe").

[John W. Morehead]

Thanks for weighing in on the religious aspects of AVATAR. As I've argued in my article on the film at Cinefantastique Online, I believe he religion of the Na'vi is better understood as the panentheism that you lean to rather than the pantheism that many have read in the film. The appreciation and lack thereof for this religious element of the film expressed in the media is yet another indicator of the continuing culture wars between progressives and conservatives.

[Tom Ligon]

Gabe,

Just saw "Avatar" this weekend. A co-worker and I both instantly identified the "military" group here as actually being mercenaries (and the story does essentially state this early on). They're clearly Blackwater. If you dropped modern US military into the Pandora situation, they'd be very sensitive to local religion and trying to be diplomats.

[Gabriel Mckee]

Tom,

Good point-- they are definitely not connected to any government; they answer only to the corporation. (It could be argued that the US military also answers to corporate interests, but that's a whole other kettle of fish.) In any event, the breadth of attitudes in Cameron's oeuvre toward those who bear arms, both public and private, is quite intriguing-- the guy responsible for both Aliens and Rambo: First Blood Part II also made Avatar and The Abyss!