S. Brent Plate.
One part Matrix, one part Alien, one part thinly-veiled critique of colonization, a fair share of myth and ritual, and a whole lot of CGI, James Cameron’s Avatar is quite a ride, a marvelous 3-D perceptual entanglement with another world. I have elsewhere argued that films, like religions, function to create alternative worlds for those who interact with them. There is the screen/altar which offers a version of a world, and then there are the viewers/practitioners who engage the screen and altar. These new worlds take shape somewhere in the connection between the two; not in the mind-body of the audience members, nor merely “on screen,” but in a negotiable space between.
Woody Allen’s The Purple Rose of Cairo offers a delightful representation of this negotiable space when the actor named Tom Baxter (Jeff Daniels) steps down off the screen and enters the “real world” to hook up with Cecilia (Mia Farrow), one of the movie-goers. Cecilia has gone to the theater to seek relief from her own world, to share in another, perhaps more glamorous and trouble-free world. In Allen’s film, two worlds cross and both characters are altered because of their shared desires that transcend the boundaries of the screen. “Nonetheless,” as I state in my book:
More