Jake Sully’s (Sam Worthington) large family is shrinking: his eldest son died heroically, and now Neytiri (Zoe Saldana) wants to get rid of Spider (Jack Champion), Colonel Quaritch’s (Stephen Lang) adopted child. She believes that the ‘pink-skinned’ ones are nothing but trouble, and Jake has little to argue with her. But as they see him off, more pressing problems arise. First, the colonel himself reappears, still intent on bringing Jake before a military tribunal. Second, they are attacked by a tribe of fire-worshipping Na’vi led by the witch Varang (Una Chaplin).
When The Way of Water was released, the very fact of its existence was striking: the pause between Avatar and its first sequel was as epic as everything else in James Cameron’s major life project. Whether The Way was a success or not (and it had both strong and obvious weaknesses), the return to Pandora was an important and unusual event: since the premiere of the original film, the world has changed, technology has changed, and perhaps most importantly, we ourselves have changed. 
This time, it took not thirteen years, but only three - standard for blockbusters. The feelings with which viewers go to the cinema are different, less elevated, but Avatar itself is roughly the same. The second and third films were shot more or less simultaneously, and although the titles and posters logically emphasized novelty, the change of elements turned out to be not very significant: by and large, the trilogy could easily have been called, say, The Way of Water: Part Two.
In other words, it’s another 197 minutes of more or less the same thing - whether that’s good or bad is up to each individual to decide. This time, the plot is perhaps a little more disciplined. First, there is the drama of Spider, who has two fathers who are very similar in their own way but are on opposite sides of the fence. 
Secondly, it turns out that not all Na’vi are equally spiritual and obedient children of nature. Varang has a fan of red feathers on her head, striking makeup, a supply of hallucinogens, and healthy (or, depending on how you look at it, very unhealthy) sexual appetites. The fact that she is played by Charlie Chaplin’s granddaughter prompts some observation about the fate of cinema; her grandfather, who released The Gold Rush a hundred years ago, also about greed in the wilderness, would certainly have been impressed, but it is unclear in what way. 
All kinds of flying and floating things have become commonplace and do not attract much attention; the heroes do not even have to remember where they parked. Jake’s son, Lo’ak (Britten Dalton), is once again friends with intelligent whales. Kiri (a teenage girl played by Sigourney Weaver) once again connects with higher powers through her tail. Conveniently, these mystical powers allow the author to rewrite the rules of life on Pandora on the fly. It is also convenient that in the world of Avatar, despite the constant danger, it is quite difficult to die completely, which we will definitely remember in the fourth and fifth films (which have not yet been formally announced, but will almost certainly take place).
The dizzying action is not without a certain monotony: time after time, someone good is taken prisoner, then escapes. The forces of evil attack, we defend ourselves. Instead of one final conversation between sworn enemies (Jake and Quaritch), there are at least four. Here, too, Cameron remains true to form: the dialogue in Avatar is consistently awful. One could, however, shrug it off: so what? It is clear that people mainly go to the cinema not to hear about ‘the blood of your ancestors flowing through your veins, you are strong,’ but for a unique sensory experience — it is no coincidence that every second review of these films uses vocabulary associated with the use of illegal substances.
Your individual impression of ‘Fire and Ash’ (for which cinemas are digging out 3D glasses from their basements) will depend heavily on the technical circumstances of viewing and your eye settings. In general, the high frame rate and the associated ultra-sharp, ultra-smooth image, which is sometimes breathtaking, sometimes results in the notorious ‘soap opera effect’: it looks like either a TV show or a video game. At these moments, you especially want to go home. But then someone soars into the sky, reminding us that things aren’t so bad, and that home is still, let’s face it, not there, otherwise we wouldn’t have been stuck on this planet for a decade and a half.