Pandora is an interesting choice of nomenclature. Though I could write a hell of a lot on the myriad of mythology- and religion-based associations (fyi, Greek Pandora = Christian Eve), I'm going to go the less literature-grad-student route and talk about video games. To those familiar with recent PlayStation 3 games, this choice to call the planet Pandora is interesting because it's also the name of the alien planet in one of last year's big, hyped-up new releases, Borderlands. In fact, while there's certainly no conscious cross-pollination at work, there's more than a titular resemblance between the Pandora of Avatar and that of Borderlands. Both are fundamentally hostile places, both are populated by a particularly nasty breed of mammal-lizard hybrids1, and both are home to a precious resource for which many humans would happily kill (though in Borderlands, that's actually a positive thing).
Of course, this kind of environment is far from new. Most sci-fi geeks pick up on the Dune thing right away. Additionally, the friend with whom I saw Avatar -- ironically, the same girl I saw Titanic with when it first came out! -- pointed out that the Na'vi are suspiciously similar to the Aiel in Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time fantasy series, since, among other cultural overlaps, they also greet each other with the phrase, "I see you."
But gaming and sci-fi/fantasy have been eager bedfellows from the start, and given the title of the film, Cameron invites the gaming comparison first and foremost2. Avatar the film is, after all, one giant, breathtaking, gravity-defying cut scene. Not that I mean to downplay my own enjoyment of it by putting it in these terms. I simply mean that Cameron has tapped into the whole "immersive" idea so often talked about with reference to video games and made it a big-screen reality. I spent much of the movie with thumbs tingling for a controller, and when Jake first gets to inhabit his avatar body and takes it for a barefooted jog, I totally teared up. In a sense, we're all Jake Sullys, living dull gray lives, dragging around dull gray limbs that don't function nearly as well as we want them to, and the idea of having a fantastical meat puppet to play with is what makes first-person shooters like Borderlands3 so addictively fun. Not only are you controlling a character, but in some ways you are that character, and you live and die through his/her experience.
What appeals to me about both Cameron's concept of the avatar and the gaming equivalent is something I've been interested in since I first saw Ghost in the Shell4. In Avatar, it's safe to say that Jake Sully gets the easy way out of the human-or-avatar conundrum. I don't want to drop spoilery spoilers, but let's just say he gets his gigantoid blue avatar and eats it, too. In contrast, Ghost in the Shell deals with the matter at a much higher philosophical level, engaging both Descartes' evil demon problem and the larger issue of the brain in the vat. What would it really mean for someone to inhabit an avatar? Would they go crazy wondering which part of their life, the avatar-life or the human-life, is the true one? And even after they'd made their choice to be one or the other, would they forever be haunted with thoughts that maybe, just maybe, a part of their true self, their "ghost" or whathaveyou, is forever stuck on the other side of the fence?
Obviously, it's not an ontological dilemma we'll be faced with anytime soon (I can turn the damn console off anytime I want, I swear!), but as technology advances, it might. I still wonder whether I'd be the kind of intrepid soul who'd jump aboard the virtual reality/cyborg body boat (I always take this rhetorical position in arguments about the brain in the vat or cyborgs in general), or whether, probably more in line with what I actually know about my own psychic limitations, I'd be unable to go through with it.
One last word on Borderlands. I've been waxing rhapsodic over the cover art for quite some time now, and here it is for your viewing pleasure:
Aside from the lovely Mad Max nod, I think it brilliantly encapsulates a certain facet of the gaming experience that's not often discussed by serious gamers who try desperately to sell the idea of gaming as serious business; that is, the gleeful nihilism, the sheer joy of literally melting your brain cells by engaging in hours upon hours of killing pixels. Now I'm wondering if my reading it this way doesn't provide an insightful Rorschach test into my own overly-conscious consciousness, and if someone (an ex-Marine, let's say...) who'd just see it as "Cool pic, bro," wouldn't be a hell of a lot more suited for a cyborg body in the first place.
1Compare the skag of Borderlands to the thanator from Avatar. Essentially the same chimerical beastie.
2It's a shame that the actual game tie-in to the movie turns out to be, anecdotally, a piece of shit, but I think that just goes to show how much money, technology, and personal investment are available to the movie industry and not the gaming industry, despite the fact that games are capable of meeting or exceeding movie profits.
3To the purists: yes, yes, I know. It's not quite entirely an FPS; it's also an RPG. Get over yourselves.
4For the anime neophyte: this series originated in manga, moved to the small screen, then spawned movies, video games, and gave the Wachowski brothers the idea for The Matrix. The premise is fairly simple: William Gibson-like cyberpunk future, cyborg bodies. The protagonist, a busty ass-kicking babe, was outfitted with a cybernetic body at age 9, and the series revolves around the question of whether or not she truly has a "ghost" or soul.
No comments:
Post a Comment