The virtual topographies of our millennial world are rife with angels and aliens, with digital avatars and mystic Gaian minds, with utopian longings and gnostic science fictions, and with dark forebodings of apocalypse and demonic enchantment.

A good example of the spirituality of “digital avatars and mystic Gaian minds” surfacing in pop culture comes in the form of James Cameron’s blockbuster film Avatar. In the past I have included commentary on this film from a variety of perspectives (see the links at the conclusion of this post), but with this article I want to address Avatar’s inclusion of psychedelics and shamanism.

My thinking on this topic was stimulated by an article by Ido Hartogsohn at Reality Sandwich titled “Avatar: The Psychedelic Worldview and the 3D Experience.” In this article Hartogsohn reminds us of the significance of the coming together of technology and media as a means of enhancing psychedelics, and that this has been part of the psychedelic movement since counterculture of the 1960s. In his view 3D films serve as a metaphor for a new filer through which perceptions of reality are altered.

Hartogsohn also reminds us that film has provided us with alternative visions of reality, which he considers forms of “psychedelic storytelling:”

Hollywood cinema has been flirting with our culture’s subconscious for some time now. Blockbuster fantasy and sci-fi films, ever-more popular in recent years, have acted as a Jungian shadow to our culture’s proclaimed rational and materialist view of reality. Films such as Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, The Matrix, Harry Potter, The Chronicles of Narnia, and The Golden Compass have presented us with a re-enchanted world. These movies posit an unseen and outlandish reality existing alongside the “normal” world, and this serves to support a growing sense of paranoia about the deceptive qualifies of consensus reality and the existence of hidden and enchanted dimensions to our world. Cinema thus functioned as our culture’s collective dream, bringing to view its most repressed archaic realms.

In Hartogsohn’s view Avatar should be included in this list of examples of psychedelic storytelling, to which its 3D features add “a new level of psychedelic visual richness.” Hartogsohn also points to the “indigenous and shamanic world view” found in the film, making it “a mythic specimen of our culture.” In shamanic cultures the shaman moves between the “natural” world and another realm accessed by altered states of consciousness. This is depicted in Avatar as the Na’vi seek communication with Eywa through a female shaman. Hartogsohn provides additional examples of parallels between the Na’vi and shamanic cultures so that there can be no doubt that Avatar depicts a shamanistic worldview.

Hartogsohn develops his thoughts on the connection between Avatar and psychedelics further by noting that it is “not only psychedelic in form but also in message.” He points toward John Lilly’s work with isolation tank experiments in the 1950s as a means of exploring and altering human consciousness. Curiously, Hartogsohn does not reference science fiction cinema’s explicit depiction of Lilly’s isolation tank and consciousness experiments as depicted in the neglected (and underrated) but interesting science fiction film Altered States (1980) starring William Hurt. Hartogsohn does, however, connect the significance of the isolation tank or pod to more recent science fiction:

A decade before Avatar, The Matrix featured a person lying in a pod, isolated from reality, and communicating with another reality. What does it mean for us that the two most influential mythic films that our culture has produced since Star Wars both feature a person lying in a pod communicating with a different reality, a being split into to parts, one of them artificial. Could this mean something? Could they mean that we are the ones inside the pod, disconnected from our true body?

This interesting article concludes with a consideration of whether we are experiencing “a new wave of psychedelic cinema.” For Hartogsohn this may be the case not only because of the continued prevalence of films in 3D, and the production of science fiction and fantasy films that open us to new conceptions of reality, but also because of films like Tim Burton’s Alice in Wonderland “jammed with weird acting mushrooms and even weirder realities” which surely must be construed as an expression of psychedelics. As Hartogsohn writes, “it seems that we might be facing a new psychedelic renaissance brought on by 3D cinema.” Perhaps, but regardless of whether 3D fades again as but the latest attempt at an interesting cinema novelty, the shamanic and psychedelic elements of one of the highest grossing films of all time gives us pause for reflection on a number of significant levels.

Related posts

“Avatar: Probing Beyond Visuals to Culture and Identity”

“Avatar’s Pandora Depresses Some Viewers: Utopia, Escape, and the Realized Ideal”

“Avatar’s Success: Romantic Narratives and Dark Green Religion”

“Na’vi Religion and the Damanhurians”

This affinity for nature may explain the global appeal of Avatar but not why it ran second in the Oscar competition. Ironically, in the battle between these cinematic epics, The Hurt Locker was portrayed as countercultural, when it actually pandered to patriotic convention. Meanwhile, Avatar was cast as technologically radical while few commented on its radical critique of a militarized technological civilization, or on its countercultural religious vision. These are things some Academy voters, little doubt, found too radical to support.

Given the likelihood that many Academy members may be progressive rather than conservative, and thus are more likely to embrace a sacralized view of nature and a critique of America’s current war efforts, I don’t know that I find Taylor’s argument persuasive. I find it more likely that drama wins out over science fiction as the genre for “serious” film making and social commentary, but Taylor’s thesis is worth considering.

Related post:

“Avatar‘s Success: Romantic Narratives and Dark Green Religion”

Like the Damanhurians, the Na’vi have their sacred language, and the use of it, both in Cameron’s film and at Damanhur in Valchiusella, helps to indicate the difference with those who are not part of the community. Both the Na’vi and the Damanhurian citizens emphasize the value of being part of a ‘people’, a belonging that is not only ethnic but initiatic, and – as the protagonist of the film himself demonstrates – voluntary. The Damanhurians greet each other, recognizing the deep communion that exists between them, with the words, “Con te” (With you), not with the usual “buongiorno.” The Na’vi do the same by saying “I see you.” At Damanhur, every member of the community establishes a special – bilateral – connection with an animal, taking on its name. Amongst the Na’vi, every warrior becomes one by choosing a winged animal to ride, and by being chosen by it at the same time.

Introvigne’s article “The religion of Avatar? It was born in Piedmont, Italy,” can be read in its entirety here.

A few of the elements are obvious. The special effects through motion and performance capture technology add new dimensions to the computer generated aliens and the world of Pandora. The story, through the film’s title connected to the idea of experiencing reality through a surrogate self, taps into the experience of millions of people who assume multiple alternative identities in the digital realm through videogames, cyber worlds, and social networking sites. I have commented on some of this previously in another forum. But as important as these elements are I believe there are other more profound dynamics at work. Because Avatar was able to tap into these dynamics it has resonated with audiences accordingly. The first consideration is related to aspects of Roger Aden’s thesis on fan cultures and symbolic pilgrimages that I have mentioned previously. Specifically, I think his discussion of romantic narratives adopted in lieu of the failures of technological paradise are significant. This consideration must then be connected to Bron Taylor’s thesis concerning the growth of environmental and nature religions.

First, consider Aden’s thesis on fan cultures and symbolic pilgrimages. In his book Popular Stories and Promised Lands: Fan Cultures and Symbolic Pilgrimages (The University of Alabama Press, 1999), Aden discusses grand narratives in American culture that he describes as “dominant visions of sacred places.” One of the narratives that under girds America is its self-conception as a promised land, and within that context it has put great hope in technology as a means of realizing this vision. However, Aden states that despite all the great things technology has done for us, it also has its negatives, including the decline of spirit and community. In this regard Aden says “[t]he promised land of technological paradise has not only failed to deliver on its vision of economic plenitude, it contributes to a growing sense of displacement as members of a social community.” Due to the breakdown of grand narratives in the culture its citizens search the imagination for new narrative and mythic substitutes. Aden suggests that one of these is the narrative of romantic spirituality. He writes:

A second rhetorical response is a collection of romantic narratives in which we find a stable, communal place through spirit; the sacred garden community of others is the site of promised lands. These narratives are often cyclical in nature, promising a return to a natural, sacred home as one travels through life.

In this regard Aden mentions the significance of the “narratives of indigenous peoples.” This specific narrative has clear connection to Cameron’s sources of inspiration in the Polynesian/Maori and Native American peoples. In my view a romantic narrative of “sacred garden community” is a significant facet of the appeal of Avatar as the late modern technological promised land of America continues to erode in the thinking of many.

There is another facet that should be connected to the romantic narrative and that is the continued growth, appeal, and influence of the sacred, the spiritual, and even the religious in connection with the environment and ecological movements. Bron Taylor has discussed this in his book Dark Green Religion: Nature Spirituality and the Planetary Future (UC Press, 2009). As he describes this phenomenon, Dark Green Religion “considers nature to be sacred, imbued with intrinsic value, and worthy of reverent care..” The reference to “dark” in connection to the green is a dual referent, with application both to the depth of commitment of those to nature religion, and also to the possibility of a “shadow side” to the religion that “could even precipitate or exacerbate violence.” Both aspects are evident in Cameron, including the latter as revealed in an interview in Entertainment Weekly. In response to the statement by a critic that “Avatar is the perfect eco-terrorism recruiting tool,” Cameron said, “Good, good, I like that one. I consider that a positive review. I believe in ecoterrorism.”

Returning to the presence of not only an increasingly influential environmental movement but also the popularity of nature as sacred, when this is connected to concerns related to environmental sustainability, as well as Avatar‘s underlying panentheism, the divine within all living things in Pandora, indeed within the moon Pandora itself, it becomes apparent that Dark Green Religion holds great explanatory power for Avatar‘s appeal with audiences.

Periodically certain films surface at just the right time, adding to their appeal. Star Wars surfaced when the appeal of the fantastic had been percolating under the surface of pop culture since the late 1960s. The film gave audiences an imaginative alternative to the cinematic offerings of the 1970s. Likewise, I suggest that Avatar has the right formula for our time in combining a narrative of romantic community with sacred nature. This formula will likely catapult Cameron into what may be the two top spots in box office history.

On the fan forum site “Avatar Forums,” a topic thread entitled “Ways to cope with the depression of the dream of Pandora being intangible,” has received more than 1,000 posts from people experiencing depression and fans trying to help them cope. The topic became so popular last month that forum administrator Philippe Baghdassarian had to create a second thread so people could continue to post their confused feelings about the movie.

“I wasn’t depressed myself. In fact the movie made me happy ,” Baghdassarian said. “But I can understand why it made people depressed. The movie was so beautiful and it showed something we don’t have here on Earth. I think people saw we could be living in a completely different world and that caused them to be depressed.”

In some ways this situation is not difficult to understand. Presenting utopian (as well as dystopian) worlds has long been a facet of science fiction. Beyond this, as I’ve mentioned previously in discussing the work of Roger Aden’s Popular Stories and Promised Lands: Fan Cultures and Symbolic Pilgrimages (The University of Alabama Press, 1999), interaction with the fantastic through literature, television and film provides individuals with an opportunity to transcend the habitus of our daily lives in order to immerse themselves in alternative worlds of possibility. These journeys may be understood as functioning as a symbolic pilgrimage, and in some circumstances literal pilgrimage of a quasi-religious or sacred nature, as has been argued about some fans in connection with their participation at Star Trek conventions.

But while some fan reactions to Avatar and Pandora might be understandable at the levels of utopian thinking and the escape from the habitus, it is also tragic in that some are so depressed about the actual rather than the virtual world that they consider suicide. Perhaps the best kind of utopian thinking about imaginative realms is that which we not only yearn for but are also willing to work toward in making it a reality rather than contemplating the end of life because the ideal has not been made concrete.

In regards to Na’vi religion, some commentators have referred to it as pantheism, but this is technically inaccurate. The Na’vi believe that Eywa, the divine “All Mother,” is connected to and in some sense “in” all things, but the “things” of the planet are not identical to Eywa and the All Mother is not the only reality. AVATAR’s religion may be more properly understood then as a form of panentheism and animism, the belief that deity resides within the world, including its animals and plants, but not that deity is the only reality.

An Internet search of “AVATAR and religion” yields a variety of perspectives, including many from those unhappy with the film’s religion. In one sense, it not well received due to the current culture wars between conservatives and progressives, but even so it would appear to fit well within the context of twenty-first century “progressive spirituality,” which meets current needs, according to scholars like Gordon Lynch, such as “the need for a credible religion for the modern age; the need for religion which is truly liberating and beneficial for women; the need to reconnect religion with scientific knowledge; and the need for a spirituality that can respond to our impending ecological crisis.” Religious conservatives on the right chaff at AVATAR’s depictions of deity and nature, but they might also pause to consider that it may arise as a response to perceived shortcomings or deficiencies in more traditional forms of Western religiosity.

Thankfully it appears that my skepticism may be unwarranted. Craig Detweiler is the Director of Pepperdine University’s Center for Entertainment, Media, and Culture, author of Into the Dark (Baker Academic, 2008), and editor of the forthcoming Halos and Avatars (Westminster John Knox, 2010) (to which I was privileged to make a contribution in the form of a chapter addressing aspects of technotheology). He was recently invited to be part of a special screening of thirty minutes of the film, and he was very impressed:

Not since the first time I saw Star Wars have I felt so giddy, so transported by sheer visual splendor and delight. Viewers will call friends and family, describing scenes with boundless enthusiasm. Teenagers will be recreating scenes in their backyards. Few will be satisfied seeing it just once. James Cameron and his team have created an eye-popping spectacle that will enthrall filmgoers. Avatar is the real (digital) deal.

Read Craig’s further thoughts on Avatar on his blog Purple State of Mind at this post, and return here for TheoFantastique’s perspective on the film after its premiere on December 18.