Photo from flickr, username Lulu
I almost never see newly released movies, because I’m cheap (let’s wait for the DVD!) and hate battling crowds. But one of my daughters really wanted to see Avatar so I broke down and took her. By now I’m sure that it’s virtually impossible to say anything original about the movie but I’ve got a new angle: I want to talk about the audience.
As we searched for seats in the sold out theatre, both my daughter and I observed that an overwhelming proportion of the audience at the movie was of overwhelming proportions. That is, a lot of people were overweight, very overweight. And judging from the vats of popcorn they were lugging around, they were going to be more overweight by the end of the movie.
Let me be very clear: I am not disparaging these folks. Some may have medical problems that contribute to their condition, but whatever their reasons, I have no right or desire to be critical of others’ weight. From a social point of view, however, I have to say that the whole thing was a little weird. Avatar is a utopian eco-fantasy about a world of lithe and powerful humanoids, the Na’vi, living in perfect harmony with their environment. Hundreds of Na’vi appear in the movie, and not one appears to have a single gram of body fat.
So here we’ve got a bunch of humans sitting inside for three hours in a dark room, munching on fat-drenched snacks, enthralled by the physical exploits of courageous beings utterly in tune with their natural environment. That’s what’s weird: Presumably the audience values being out in nature, perfecting physical skills such as balance and quickness, and over-the-top fitness; if they didn’t they wouldn’t be spending good money to sit and watch these things. Why, then, are these values not manifesting themselves in the lives of many in the audience?
The truth is that we often prefer the imaginary experiences of fictions over the real ones of life. For one thing, the fiction is easier and safer; we can imagine ourselves in the most challenging and dangerous situations and face no real discomforts or dangers. But even more important is the fact that we are capable imagining situations that are more compelling and meaningful than life ever is. Even when things are going well, real life brings a mix of feelings and emotions, our happiness is never as pure as we can make it in our stories.
Could our love of fictions be our undoing? Could it be that we are drifting towards the situation depicted in another dystopian movie, Wall-E, in which humans have become so sedentary that they spend their days reclining in floating chairs and pursuing bovine amusements? My guess is probably not. I think instead it’s best to interpret the situation here as just gently humorous.
In a way, the Avatar audience provides a metaphor for all of us who enjoy entertainment. What we are most attracted to is not infrequently what we lack in real life. And it’s kind of poignant that we may not recognize, as we passively soak up our electronic dreams, that often we are thereby ensuring that what we are attracted to will remain out of reach.
