Decolonising James Cameron's Pandora: Imperial History And
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Decolonising James Cameron’s Pandora: Imperial history and science fiction Dominic Alessio Richmond University, the American University in London Kristen Meredith University of Cambridge Abstract The science fiction film Avatar will be examined in light of the social-political context in which it was written, demonstrating the director’s highly charged critique of US foreign policy. Yet this paper also argues that the depiction of the alien native species remains problematic from a postcolonial perspective. “Decolonising Pandora” addresses too the ways that Avatar has been used for political ends by peoples throughout the world, while acting as a vehicle for a critical examination of traditional definitions of empire and imperial history overall. Introduction James Cameron’s science fiction (SF) blockbuster Avatar (2009) is a film about futuristic human-alien contact that takes place on a fictional moon called Pandora in the Alpha Centauri star system. It is famous for being the most expensive cinematic production ever made, its groundbreaking 3-D technology, and the fact that it has grossed over two billion US dollars worldwide. Yet it is of interest for more than just special effects and profit margins. Avatar has been also the subject of considerable media discussion regarding its anti-establishment political ideology and its historical revisionism. This paper has four aims. Firstly, Avatar will be examined in light of the social-political context in which it was written, namely the American-led invasion of Iraq at the start of the twenty-first century during the presidency of George W. Bush (2000-2008). The film’s dialogue references the requirement to “fight terror with terror,” “shock and awe,” and a “hearts and minds” strategy, while the plot centers on the need to gain control of a valuable energy source (“unobtainium” as opposed to oil). Therefore, Avatar comes across as a highly charged critique of © 2012 Dominic Alessio & Kristen Meredith and The Johns Hopkins University Press Bush’s US foreign policy, especially the so-called “War on Terror”. As such it stands in good stead with a tradition of other anti-colonial SF texts and American metropolitan critiques of empire. Secondly, we argue that while the film’s plot is a blatant metaphor for the history of European-Indigenous colonial contact, the depiction of the Na’vi (Pandora’s indigenous humanoid species) remains problematic from a postcolonial perspective. However well-intentioned Cameron’s motives may have been, the Na’vi are portrayed as one-dimensional, environmentalist, noble savage caricatures that ironically only serve to reveal the continuous power of a colonialist mindset. Avatar subsequently exposes the extent and depth of imperial cultural resonances to which even Cameron, the explicit anti-imperialist, falls victim. In this vein Pandora’s setting, despite all of the film’s cutting-edge technology, largely resembles the conventional ‘Lost Eden’ utopian fantasy common to much of the literature and art of Europe’s nineteenth century high age of empire. By way of conclusion we address the manner in which the film has been used for political ends by peoples throughout the world to gain international attention for their particular domestic plights. “Decolonising Pandora” thus demonstrates how politics and popular culture can overlap, highlighting the sometimes unexpected resonances of such intersections. One additional consequence of just such an intersection includes the need to rethink traditional definitions and theories of empire. Although since the dawn of civilization there have been numerous empires all across the globe, there are relatively few comparative and theoretical attempts to define the term. As Herfried Münkler points out: “the question of what an empire is and how it differs from the political order of the territorial state… has remained virtually unexamined… Political science has not provided solid definitions.”1 Avatar’s emphasis on the relationship between empire and big business is a timely reminder of the necessity to re-examine the phenomenon and to draw attention to the fact that empires do not have to be always state led. Avatar and science fiction Naomi Wolf asserts that a “a culture’s ‘dreamwork’—its films, pop music, visual arts, and even its resonant jokes, cartoons and advertising images—reveal the signs of this © 2012 Dominic Alessio & Kristen Meredith and The Johns Hopkins University Press collective unconscious.”2 In other words, cultural productions are not “merely rarefied aesthetic objects but points of entry into a society or culture at a particular moment in history.”3 Such is the case for literature. In a critique of the fantasy genre, which is frequently associated with SF, Myles Balfe states that: Fantasy texts and landscapes are not purely fantastic… they are located within, and inscribed by, particular social, geographical and cultural discourses… Fantasy is not about inventing other worlds… Rather, Fantasy texts, like all texts, are socially embedded.4 Not surprisingly, the same also holds true for SF: “science fiction films are a particularly valuable tool for cultural analysis—the themes and techniques of such films in any given era may be held as an index of the dominant political and ideological concerns of the culture.”5 However, SF differs from fantasy in important ways. What distinctly makes Avatar a work of SF—apart from being marketed this way and proffering a speculative vision of the future extrapolated upon current trends—is that the film is “manifestly about science and scientific possibility—even probability.”6 Travel to Alpha Centauri, our closest star system, is a genuine prospect. Theoretically, life could exist on a moon. Therefore, although the SF genre is notoriously difficult to define, this emphasis on the possible, however extreme and improbable, helps to distinguish it from fantasy. By comparison, the latter’s purview consists mainly of magical and supernatural elements, and by implication a near total suspension of belief. SF’s emphasis, therefore, is upon the possibly real, as opposed to the really impossible. This distinguishing feature is what the critic Darko Suvin refers to as a “novum.”7 Nevertheless, Avatar exhibits a number of other typically SF characteristics: aliens, space ships, advanced technology, and themes relating to estrangement, didacticism, and apocalypse.8 These elements clearly demonstrate that Avatar belongs to the SF genre. Storyline Set roughly a century-and-a-half in the future Avatar opens with the narrative of paraplegic ex-Marine Jake Sully (Sam Worthington). Jake takes the place of his deceased twin brother in the Avatar Program, an ongoing scientific exploration of the © 2012 Dominic Alessio & Kristen Meredith and The Johns Hopkins University Press jungle-like Pandora. The moon is rich in unobtainium, a much-needed energy source in light of Earth’s own dwindling resources. The mineral is being sought for sale back on Earth by Parker Selfridge (Giovanni Ribisi) and the RDA Corporation he represents. Problematically for the RDA and its private mercenary army, unobtainium rests underneath Hometree, a gargantuan tree-like living space belonging to the Na’vi. The Na’vi are unwilling to surrender it. Jake, in his avatar (faux Na’vi) form manages to infiltrate the Omaticaya, the clan of Na’vi at Hometree. He befriends Neytiri (Zoë Saldana), a female Na’vi, and eventually they fall in love, signifying the shift of Jake’s loyalties away from the humans. However, Selfridge and head of security Colonel Miles Quaritch (Stephen Lang) decide to relocate the Na’vi forcibly by destroying Hometree. The film climaxes with a battle between the united Na’vi clans of Pandora, led by Jake in his avatar body, and the RDA forces. At exhaustive length, the battle finishes and the Na’vi emerge victorious. Jake forgoes his human form completely and chooses to remain on Pandora, while the humans pack up and return home to planet Earth. Political discussions aside, Avatar would have attracted attention for a variety of reasons, including the aforementioned extreme production costs (at a reputed 237 million US dollars it exceeded Cameron’s 1997 other big budget film Titanic), the fact that it is the globe’s top-grossing film to date, and its lavish and technologically advanced 3-D effects (referred to as “Stonervision” by one commentator).9 Other factors accounting for the media interest include the film’s epic length (162 minutes in original release) and the director’s difficult personality (crews working for him have referred to him as a combination of Captains Kurtz and Bligh).10 The director’s patriarchal tack is also of interest; his other SF films have featured strong female characters, such as Sarah Connor (Linda Hamilton) in The Terminator (1984) and Ellen Riply (Sigourney Weaver) in Aliens (1986). Intriguingly, what has not been the subject of detailed discussion is Jake’s physical infirmity. The fact that Cameron chose to finance the most expensive film ever made with a paraplegic as a central character suggests that Avatar is not as typically conservative, at least in terms of characterization, as some have maintained. Despite these concerns, however, the film has drawn the most attention due to its political message(s). As Dave Itzkoff has pointed out: “it has also found itself under fire from a growing list of interest groups, © 2012 Dominic Alessio & Kristen Meredith and The Johns Hopkins University Press schools of thought and entire nations.”11 Such critics have included the Vatican, for the film’s apparent homage to pantheism, and the philosopher Slavoj Žižek, for its old-fashioned storyline. Avatar has been criticized especially for its derivative narrative. Although Cameron is said to have developed the concept of the film’s plot in the 1990s, the storyline has been lambasted as a cross between a traditional western and a hackneyed romance, albeit set in the future and on a distant world.