And Avatar is shit anyway: a humourless fable about a bunch of sanctimonious, stand-offish jungle-smurfs who spend their days running around in thongs, attacking explorers, interfering with sky-horses, and obstinately halting the march of progress for the sake of a poxy tree. Watching the Na'vi (see? even their name is obnoxious) mope and moan in three dimensions simply made them more real, and therefore more objectionable. Maybe if the final half-hour had consisted of one of the human soldiers repeatedly kicking one of the Na'vi shamen in his leaf- bollocks until he spewed blue sick and his eyeballs popped out in 3D, I'd have found it easier to stomach.
Charlie Brooker, of course.
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