An outtake. Moments like these can't be planned. They're my favorite. Shot with an EF 70-200mm f/2.8L @ f/5.

Unlike humans, horses are utterly indifferent towards cameras and lenses.  Despite a curious attitude and perhaps zany temperament, a horse doesn’t know any better—and I’m sure this is a good thing.  When Nancy Kirwin asked me to take her new business portrait with her horse, Ready, I had some experience with equine irascibility, yet I was unsure of what to expect.  My previous attempts to photograph horses were either scenes of hilarity or trepidation: one time, I chased a horse across a field with a Vagabond II power pack over my shoulder, a light stand equipped with an Alien B800 in one hand, and my Eos in the other.  Another time, I made a few frames of Berry, Lisa Allen’s horse, and spooked it with my Speedlites.  On both occasions, I didn’t really need to get too close to the horses, and I didn’t have an experienced handler/companion on location.  I learned on this shoot that making a good portrait of a horse comes down to trust—an ineffable bond between rider and steed.

Another take, this time lit with Speedlites. 430exII camera right, through a 90cm x 90cm Lastolite EzyBox. 430exII camera left, through a 60cm x 60cm Lastolite EzyBox. Shot with an EF 70-200 f/2.8L @ f/5.

Ready was quite ready and willing to participate, but he wouldn’t put his ears forward.  Nancy suggested this made for a proper photograph, as the direction of a horse’s ears indicate where their attention is.  Makes sense.  So, getting Ready “camera ready” merely meant getting his mind off the various distractions at hand—as it turns out, I wasn’t one of them   The hydro crew down the highway was one.  The highway itself—two hundred meters distant maybe—provided an abundance of distraction.  In the end, it all worked out, with the help of mutual friend Susan Regier off-camera, back left, banging on the gate with whatever metal she could muster.  So, photogs—and horse lovers—-if you ever need to make portraits, bring a noise-maker, preferably something particularly jingly.  Here are a few examples of the portraits, with notations for the photo geeks.  Thanks to Nancy for the opportunity, pleasant company (and SMILE), and to Sue for her help.

Susan Regier and Nancy Kirwin, medium close up. Lit with a 430exII camera right, through a 90cm x 90cm Lastolite Ezybox, and a 430ex camera left, through a 60cm x 60cm Lastolite Ezybox. Shot with a 16-35mm f2/8L @ f/5.6.

Susan Regier and Nancy Kirwin. Lit with the sun, camera left, and a 430exII, camera right, through a 90cm x 90cm Lastolite Ezybox. Shot with an EF 16-35mm f/2.8L @ f/6.3.

Nancy and Ready, medium shot. We started with ambient only shots, the light being just about right. Shot with an EF 70-200mm f/2.8L @ f/5.

A nice outtake. It occurs to me now that Ready should have been in profile like this for these shots, with Nancy looking at the lens. Ah well. It's a nice look. Shot with an EF 70-200mm f/2.8L @ f/4.

Along with this challenge is the time-frame.  Always running against the clock.  Shooting portraits for people with schedules has to be quick.  Setting lights up beforehand takes a lot of this pressure off, but the thing is, you rarely get that time.  You walk into a place you’ve never seen.  You size it up, and start brainstorming with the client.  And hopefully, things go quick.  Sometimes they do, and other times you have to piece out a photon puzzle.  “Oh, damn, I can see my umbrella in that,” or “there’s not enough space to light this” are things that I often ponder in these fiery minutes of appraisal.

Once those details get worked out, I find my fundamentals, and get them in the bag.  Get the head shot—check.  Get the full body shot—check.  Is there a context shot?  Check.  Etc, etc.  Here’s a shoot I recently did with real estate sales representative Juliana Tibbet.  For the photogs out there, I’ll include a few notes on each frame.  Yes, because I’m that geeky.

Social media close up portrait/business card portrait. Lit from the front, two 430exII Speedlites shot through umbrellas. A very pleasing and flattering light is produced this way. Shutter drag of 1/30s to bring in the background. Shot with a EF 50mm f/1.4 @ f/2

A contextual shot. Here, the umbrellas are camera right and left, out of the family of angles of the background door. The vestibule was a dreadful void, so I put a 430ex on the floor in there, gelled Honl "chocolate" and pointed it up. Thankfully, it was triggered. Shot with an EF 24-105mm f/4L @ f/4.

Contextual shot: medium close up; relaxed. Here I was able to use the clamshell technique, again at f/2, but in high speed sync mode. The daylight was metering at about 1/1000s @ f/2, and I underexposed it 2/3 of a stop. Again, I love the context of the architecture, but also like to keep the background as subtle as possible.

Contextual long shot. Lit with a 430exII shot through a 90cm x 90cm Lastolite EzyBox, camera left. Slight perspective correction in Photoshop. The biggest hassle here was the wind blowing the EzyBox around and my client's hair to smithereens. Wait for lull, commence shooting. Shot with an EF 16-35mm f/2.8 @ f/5.6

I find it delightful that Chis and David Koski, photogs at heart, have embraced the love like I have. This blog is a tribute to their work, and the indelible impact it’s had on my view on the subject of ‘enframing,’ lighting, and plain old creative fun.  As an emerging professional, I look to my cousins to restore the love.  And so they do.

To begin with, here are a few examples of Chris Koski’s photos:

When I think of Chris’ work, I think of stars and cars, as he cleverly combined in the experimental frame above.   I’m not much of a car guy (although his latest photographs of the new Honda CR-Z have kind of left me in a state of wanting) but I share his fascination with the heavens.  Check out this recent landscape, which in my opinion, represents the pinnacle of Chris’ work—many hours of plying Canon cameras and the heavens:

Awesome frameage, dude.  As Wayne would say: “Party on!”

David Koski also inspires with his keen eye for detail and sacred moments, and his obsession with black and white.  He’s told me of his aversion to colour, and I just said, “Well, shoot B&W then.”  And so he has.  Here’s a collection of some of his work (not all B&W) that just blow me away.

Dave reminds me that the subtleties of life are right there, and with a little patience, can end up on a digital sensor.

Anyhow, so there you have it: a brotherhood of photography.  Often, I’m on the periphery of the realm of Koski photography, but once in a while, I get to partake.  It’s just a wonderful feeling knowing that we share the same blood and the spark to make photographs.

_E

Anyhow, enough about our audacious Yank–now we must away to closer areas, to the Glencoe County, here in the armpit of southwestern Ontario.  I’ve been shooting Mr. Scott McKay of Strong Arm Forge.  The man and I met at the SBC, and we talked briefly about photography, he being a long time amateur and me being a pro.  He asked how I’d feel helping him develop his sculpture portfolio, and me, being the dumb ass I am, tentatively responded that I didn’t have that much experience lighting metal, and that I might be able to help.  BUSINESS FAIL.  Scott later told me I didn’t seem confident, and that we’d reconnect later in the year (which we did through a YourSpace Magazine shoot of his work.)  Scott was impressed.  Upon seeing them, he wanted to buy his own photographs.  See below.

Scott McKay demonstrates the rigors of smithing.

Strong Arm Forge

Working with Scott is a lot of fun, mainly because of his humour but also because he’s an amateur photographer.  And so when I do work for him, I also have the essence of amateur breathed back into me.  Why?  Because lighting art is a ton of fun.  His stuff is so gorgeous.  It took only a few glances at our dailies for Scott to become convinced that I was the right photographer for him.  Okay, okay, I’ll admit there was more than that: we both love fine beers.

For my first shoot with Scott that was utterly independent of the magazine, we spent half a day on a few tricky subjects.  Scott’s sculptures are sometimes very tall, making it difficult to work with backgrounds.  After a lot of fussing, I managed to create several images that were stunning.

This wonderful sculpture was lit with Canon Speedlites in various places, as was the wall. All of them were snooted. The background brick was retouched to cover existing window slats.

Aerial Oxide: two AB800s, one on beaty dish, camera left above, and one AB00, gridded, camera right, gridded.

After this session, Scott asked for photographs with simple white background for entry into sculpture competitions.  He purchased a huge piece of green muslin, and we did some green screen work.  Here’s an example of a fully processed green-screen image:

Green Work Demo

The results were great, and a huge learning process for me.  To begin with, there was a green cast on all of the images which had to be diligently removed from the sculpture.  Painstaking work, but it can be done with the PSCS3 colour replacement tool.  Also, refining the edges is key to any sense of photorealism.  I made great efforts to enusre each piece looked removed from green and situated in a new virtual setting.  Spent a lot of time on this, but it paid off.

A few days ago, Scott and I had an impromptu shoot at Victoria Park in London for a piece he was delivering to a client in Stratford.  This was a timed session, so I worked quick.  My take on it was: FP sync to make the background as creamy as possible, with a 50mm @ f/2.  But Scott and I agreed that the images I took when switching to the 70-200mm and racking it out to 200mm @ f/2.8 were superior in their compression of the image.  Here are two examples:

Full Size @ 50mm f/2

Full Size @ 200mm f/2.8

For these shots at wide apertures, FP high speed sync was used, and the lights were very close to their subjects.  What I wanted to emphasize in both cases was the sculpture, and merely use the background as an indistinct creamy blur.  I think both work really well, although Scott and I agreed on the 200mm bokeh.  This is not the first time that this vaunted 70-200mm f/2.8L IS USM lens has pushed its little brother, the EF 50mm f/1.4 USM, out of the way in preference.  Its flexibility as a zoom lens with range oftentimes wins over its classic lightweight 50mm.  Canon’s zooms are versatile, sharp, and produce prime-worthy bokeh that really stand out.

After this, we decided to quickly grab some detail shots.  Having left my 100mm f/2.8 USM Macro at home, I opted for the TS-E f/3.5L tilt shift lens.  It’s got a gorgeous minimum focusing distance (30cm) and can really isolate detail in interesting ways.  Here’s a few tilt-shift detail shots that make the background skewed to indistinctness:

Talons, tilt-shifted.

Beak and lunch, tilt-shifted.

Looking for lunch, tilt-shifted.

Looking for lunch's tail, tilt-shifted.

So it’s kind of sad when his pieces go away undocumented.  For one, I lose a job *snicker* but secondly, and more importantly, Scott doesn’t have a great photograph for his growing portfolio.  These sculptures go everywhere in Canada, and it’s highly unlikely McKay will fly me off to the east coast to create a photograph a piece for the sake of his portfolio.  One can always dream, I guess.

Anyhow, kudos to Scott McKay for selling thirty pieces at last month’s Art’s Project showing.  It’s not a surprise to me, really–this blacksmith forges things of beauty and is averse to swords.  How cool is that?

Cheers,

_E

If you’re in a solopreneur or small business owner in the London area, I’d like to extend an invitation to you to my first business personality portrait session.  I’ll create three professional photographs for you for only $97.00–that’s over a $50.00 savings from regular prices. These photographs will be retouched and cast in any format you wish–colour, sepia, or black and white–and e-mailed to you within a week, in a resolution that’s fit for print.  Sessions will occur on two days only, at the exquisite Idlewyld Inn on Tuesday, August 10th, and Wednesday, August 11.  Complimentary makeup services will be provided by Ellen Whiting of Mary Kay cosmetics.  Click the Time Driver link below to book your session now!  Space is limited!

Booking link: https://my.timedriver.com/555GH

For more information, please call me at 226-448-1306 or e-mail me at eric@ericmalette.ca.

Margarita Ibbott, owner, Downshifting Professional Organizing Solutions

Lois Ward, owner, Goodlines Decor

Custom Mobility partners, Fred and Kevin

Summerset Interiors designers, Cynthia and Lisa

Ryan Ford, editor, YourMagazine.ca

Laura

Amanda Willett, owner, Beyond Diva

Carol Koepke, Sales Representative at Christy Ruth Real Estate Brokerage Ltd

Bill DeWinter, Certified Financial Planner

Again, the details: Two days of sessions: Tuesday, August 10 and Wednesday, August 11, from 11:00am to 7:00pm Location: Idlewyld Inn, 35 Grand Avenue, N6C 1K8 No sitting fee: Pay only $97.99 and get 3 different images (Regular fees start at $147.00!) Space is limited–book your session today! Visit https://my.timedriver.com/555GH to book your session online.  For more information, please call me at 226-448-1306, or e-mail me at eric@ericmalette.ca.

_E

My adventure with the camera began as a simple hobby; it was fueled with the desire for a creative outlet, a way to cope with things as simple and convoluted as anxiety.  My photography also began as a deeply personal thing, and still is when I’m pursuing “amateur” endeavours.  As a novice who’s pushed himself into the realm of the professional, I sometimes fear that I’ll lose the amateur in me.  The word “amateur,” of French derivation, simply means a “lover of.”  I think for most photographers—indeed, most humans engaged in any sort of creative activity—the journey starts there.  And for those of us who dream of earning a living from our photographic sensibilities, we merge this love with necessity—with simply making ends meet.  But what happens at this crucial turn?  Lots of strange things, let me tell you.

For the amateur, making frames under the pain of “performance” is abhorrent.  That’s the essential and defining quality of the amateur.  The amateur finds the pressure of professionalism appalling because amateur creation suffers and grows under each photographer’s individual judgment, free of the cold hands of strangers’ criticism.  Granted, it is assisted along the way by friends and mentors, but the aesethic unique to the amateur is fragile, and certainly cannot cope with the raw criticism demanded of dollar bills.  A dollar or any “value” attached to photographic services places a strain on the naturally acquired ease of the amateur.  Aside what transpires within a photographer’s mind when she examines a subject, the artistry of most endeavours is largely consigned to the wasteheap of opinion.  Academic criticism is at once exhaustive and rare in this day and age.  Only the photographer really cares about his personal work; at the most, he invites trusted friends into this circle of criticism.  Cameras are everywhere nowadays, and photographs in overwhelming abundance for this very reason.  It’s tough to stand out, in the professional world and amateur alike.

Forging new creativity is a nearly impossible task, left to the auteurs, the greats.  Yet, once in a while, our photographs speak to others, and in these moments of cosmic blessedness, we are grateful and flattered—and connected in a way that is transcendent.  However, more often than not, our favourite photographs remain unnoticed by others, a fact that simultaneously affirms and affronts our work.  This is the crux upon which a professional photographer (especially, though surely not limited to) finds success or failure: his or her ability to infuse love with work—to slingshot past the crippling singularity of human judgment.  Brandishing a talent that is cultivated in the fertile practice of love in order to pay the bills is daunting, if only because we, simply put, are not the center of the universe when we make photographs for other people.  We’re just half of it.  This is the only inherent difference between the professional and amateur.

The thing that strikes me as the most terrifying concept in all of this is the potential loss of love.  I, for one, do not want to lose the joy of creating photographs.  If you’re making photographs for money, then you’re going to sacrifice some of your creativity.  It’s just the way things go, it’s inevitable.  The photographer’s vision becomes narrowed by workflow, time constraints and demand.  The world makes no room for utter creative control, unless you belong to that elite few.  Even Annie Leibovitz and Joe McNally have had to make creative concessions in order to get the job done.  The world is simply too big for an artist’s singularly selfish apprehension.  Aligning my aesthetic sensibilities with the myriad of the world is impossible in some cases; in others, totally inappropriate.  Portraits are the most awesome example of collaborative work that a photographer can engage in, and only here, in the subtle direction and unveiling that occurs between a photographer and his subject, does the light of artistic glory find its way past professional judgment, illuminating a shared experience, where judgment rests on both photographer and subject.  Humans being as difficult as they are, it is a wondrous and precious thing, not to be taken for granted.

I’ve found part of the secret to coping with all of this, though.  In keeping with logical business sense, I’ve begun a small and ever-increasing interaction with my community.  The participation in community injects love and enthusiasm back into photography in a way that is profound, gratifying, and unexpected. There’s a growing sense of pride within me—a feeling of completion—that is quite different from the feeling I get after creating an amateur frame.  From a personal perspective (and a business one, too) it makes sense.  Sometimes I just want to branch out and ‘witness’ the community with my camera; attend to it, document it.  It sounds strange to word it like that, but I’ve come to look on these kinds of connections as self-sustaining and value-adding.  They position you within a group of “special” humans, special in the sense that you belong to them, and they, to you.  I hope to explore the seas of community and one day, help define it.  For now, I shall simply ride the waves of my community’s vastness with my eyes on the horizon, camera in hand.

Here’s a mix of imagery of the past work that has defined the first three months of my work here in London, ON, both volunteering and business-related.

I was outside the blocky building–
That complex structure of Woe;
I waited upon my mother dear,
As she endured radiation’s blow.

To keep my mind wandering,
To stay strong and upbeat,
I took to my cold feet–
Shoes as heavy as mind meandering.

And soon I found the comfort close by,
Things near the malignant fear.
It was mundane and simple, the view before me,
But from it I drew strength, vital and sure.

The clouds and trees aligned in viewfinder thus:
And, like the soothing colours of a painting,
Intent on moment and form–on turning sensation to trust–
So did nature’s scene abate my heart’s beating,
And I rested easy in the cosmic rust.

For it’s an easy corrosion to despair of,
Shedding, ruthlessly, this life we love.
Yet, with cloud’s depth and waning sun’s glow,
I peeled the sheath of worry’s glove,
Easing mind and resting soul,
And turning heart’s tremor slow.

_E

Radiation Blues

1.  Burn a stick of Nag-Champa incense.  Helps create the proper mood.

2.  Chug a protein Ensure, preferably not in the presence of the elderly.

3.  Angle a 20 degree gridded Alien Bee 800 at a reflector card.  In my case, I placed the Alien Bee camera left, with the card high above camera right, angled down towards the lamp.

4.  Light the lamp and begin a prayer to Goddess Misha.

5.  Achieve pre-focus.

6.  Position the reflector card for decent speculars.

7. Set camera to ten second delay and find a place in the frame to wave a blue LED light.

8. Wave LED light like a spirit.

9. Repeat the process until proper spirit-like activity has been recorded over eight seconds.

10.  Use Photoshop to correct any spirit aberrations.  (After public criticism has suggested so.)

voilà!  Warm lamp that emanates friendly company!

_E

Who you gonna call?

A lucky fog makes for haunted basilicas.

2010 has yielded these kinds of anxieties, but this is not to say that it has so far been without discovery and success.  To me, “living life @ f/11″ means bringing your DSLR pretty much everywhere you go, in work and play.  That’s the weird thing with me, but I think most of my friends have come to accept it.  Living life behind a viewfinder makes things easier for me; it keeps me occupied and smiling.  I’m all for conversation, don’t get me wrong, but I’m also so fascinated by people and making frames of them that I can get a little absorbed with my camera.

Macro extender rings make for a tremendous amount of fun.

My love for photography vacillates between this kind of documentary-style immediacy and the painstakingly planned portrait that comes from an idea.  Portraiture is pure human essence–nothing more, nothing less.  Good portraits are measured by their subject’s vulnerability, not complexity.  As a light technician, I often become obsessed with the technical details.  Camera, lights–more lights, more lights!–f stops, focal lengths, etc.  I’m soothed by the cadence of technicalities, but they have no place in the authenticity of portraits; in fact, they raise that wall of estrangement a tad higher.

A poignant moment.

As seen in Your Style magazine.

Which of course makes the job as a photographer that much more difficult.  Because it’s our task to see it that the human essence surfaces–that the authenticity emerges amidst the tumult of light stands, fat lenses and strobe pulses.  Once in a while, I’ll get out to the streets and test my nerves for a run and gun exposé on human nature, a process that is much different obviously, than a planned portrait, but one that follows the same rules of “disarmament.”   There are folks out there that will make the photo for you instantly, generally because they’re of kind disposition (or under the influence of copious amounts of alcohol– “In vino veritas,” the wise men say)  but sometimes you have to disarm them, and make them understand that there’s nothing to fear in a photo.  Thus exposed, I pluck at the shutter to retrieve their essence.  For the most part, people out on a Friday night are charming and receptive.  There are always a few scowlers–a few whose ego is so towering and mighty that they refuse or get irate.  I don’t understand these people, nor their protestations, but I try to respect them.  Last Friday I peered into an eatery and started making frames until the proprietor asked me to leave.  I didn’t argue, mainly because I have no idea if its legal to shoot into a business–probably not.  My cousin told me that it’s illegal to make photographs of people in their cars, go figure.  Privacy is an uncertain issue on the streets.

Stopping people on the street and asking for a portrait is a good exercise for perfecting the skills of disarmament–for getting people to reveal their authentic selves.  Mainly (and I think we could all agree on this) I think that making someone comfortable is the single most important aspect of portraiture, aside from the lighting conditions.  And the odd thing is, enhancing the lighting conditions in any given environment will put the subject on edge to some degree.  By their very nature, non-ambient light sources are the antithesis of authenticity.  So it is that we as photographers balance the line between overcooking something and having it just right.  We use our charms to rebuild the authenticity of a person and/or create an intimacy between us and our subjects.  It’s either that or the straight up candid photograph, the vaunted queen of pictures–a long lens and a prayer.  The candid is the ultimate composition of honesty, but can only be performed in public places, and generally at the cost of appearing either suspicious or creepy.

Introverted by nature, there are times when I find either the task of rebuilding authenticity or finding the courage to approach people…unnatural.  Exhausting.  It makes my skin crawl to create these kinds of bridges.  Who am I to connect with someone on any level beyond the surface, the factual, the aloof?  Sometimes I flee to the woods to make frames.  The best thing about nature is she never says no, and her intimacy never falls away; it is ever-present, part of who we are.  I love retreating from the work that is “making photographs of people” to recover my footing.  Trees and snow cannot say “no.”  They cannot become indignant, nor judge, and the only real stress that a photographer faces melts aways.  In these precious moments, it is just the photographer and the lens.  Nothing more.  The tranquil freedom to let your viewfinder spy this miraculous joining of lines, or that curious symmetry of natural design is a wholesome experience of non-interference.  There are no boundaries when shooting objects and nature, save those that exist to preserve life.

The environment often holds our imagination right in front of us.

We're all recycled. Star-matter born again.

And after a quiet walk in the woods, alone, or perhaps with a friend, the world’s problems fall away, and I’m refreshed.  Ready to tackle the next assignment.  Ready to learn more about light and be a better photog.  And with such a vibrant array of photogs in the wings, sharing information on a daily basis, there’s never been a more exciting time to learn.  Like I said, my only real limitation is my imagination and my work ethic.  Cheers go out to David Hobby, Chase Jarvis, Joe McNally, Albert Watson, Annie Leibovitz, Scott Kelby, the folks at Light Stalking.com, Chris Koski, David Koski, Gerry Kingsley, Aaron Lindemann, Jason Mulligan, and essentially any photographer who’s shared a bit of their knowledge and inspired me.

_E

Neytiri

Of course.  But what about the heart of the film?  What’s the story got to offer?  I recall the Star’s critic panning the rest of the film’s details, I think.  “We’ve seen it all before” he said, or something to that effect.  (Personally, I think this film is crammed with more details than I’ve ever seen in a motion picture, and is essentially the new high point in “fine print.”)   “The film’s not revolutionary because it’s got nothing new to say,” is another similar comment made, or something like that.  And maybe he’s right.  From a narrative standpoint, perhaps there is nothing innovative about ‘Avatar.’  The review brought up the obvious comparisons with historic events—current predominant political ideologies, the history of imperialism, etc, etc, blah.  Yeah, yeah, so Cameron doesn’t like the war in Iraq, big deal.  Who does?

Sunset on Pandora

Well I say screw all that shit.  This is a movie.  I think it’s quite all right for Mr. James Cameron to point out the same things other filmmakers have before him: that it is human nature to be selfish.  That there will always be a small, yet powerful minority who take things away from the weak for nothing nobler than an extra dime.  This is the essence of ‘Avatar.’  It’s a film about imperialism—about the people who murder for monetary gain and the select few who would combat such an affront.  Like filmmakers before him, Cameron insists that there are a virtuous few who combat villainy.  In ‘Avatar’ we find another incident in the long line of humankind’s persistence of failure, and how people of virtue fight injustice.  Pretty standard fare.  But I’m okay with that.

Jake Sully

If you can get past the fact that you’ve come into contact with the idea of good versus evil before, then you’ll enjoy this film.  You might even adore it.  It’s quick and easy; it’s got romance and heroism; it’s full of love, and it’s a celebration of the Sacred.  It’s not simply a futuristic version of ‘Dances With Wolves.’  It’s a look at another way of life, where the Sacred is fused with biology.  Where science and spirituality mesh.  It’s the fantasy of all of us, I think.  And to me, herein lies the majesty of this piece of fiction: it’s a perfectly constructed fantasy based on the desire for quantifiably good things to come from the preservation of sacred things. Plain and simple.  People say science and spirituality will never merge, and this film gives us a momentary reprieve from the burden of “not knowing.”  I welcome that.

Venture Star Dropship

I’ve been a film enthusiast for many years, and this film just blew me away.  Floored me.  If you’ve any love for the evolution of filmic presentation, head out there and see it.  Don’t tarry.  Treat yourself.  There are no holes in ‘Avatar.’  It stands up strong with good characters, and the CGI has risen to a point where we can truly empathize with this blue-skinned Na’vi race.  One of the biggest barriers to science fiction has always been an audience’s inability to suspend disbelief.  This film makes that suspension ever more easier.  I think even the reluctant skeptics of sci-fi’s merits will find in ‘Avatar’ a coherent and enjoyable film.  It has all the ingredients necessary to make you smile, frown,  nod knowingly, and steal a perfectly good pair of 3D glasses as a memento of the first 3D film that was truly a work of art.

_E

The Ancestor Tree