After a shaky opening, Avatar: Fire and Ash storms past $1bn, reviving cameron’s saga

For a film series that ranks among the most lucrative in cinema history, the Avatar saga continues to inspire an almost ritualistic scepticism. Each new chapter arrives under a cloud of doubt, followed closely by predictions of collapse. Avatar: Fire and Ash has proved no exception.

In the days following its release, early box office figures were seized upon as evidence that James Cameron’s long-running epic might finally have run out of steam. With a reported global opening of just over $340 million, industry chatter quickly turned to whether this third instalment would spell the end of the franchise altogether.

Cameron himself had fuelled those fears in advance. He openly acknowledged that if Fire and Ash failed to meet expectations, the planned fourth and fifth films might never reach the screen. Instead, they could be released as novels, a prospect that delighted critics who have never warmed to the saga’s earnest environmental themes and grand spiritual mythology.

But as history has shown, writing off Avatar too early is a familiar mistake.

Rather than collapsing, Fire and Ash followed the same slow-burning trajectory that defined its predecessors. Week by week, ticket sales climbed. By its third weekend in cinemas, the film crossed the $1 billion mark, silencing much of the early panic and re-establishing the franchise’s formidable commercial pull.

Box office analysts now suggest it could push towards the $2 billion milestone reached by the first two films. Even if it falls short of that towering figure, the performance already appears strong enough to secure the future of the saga. Scripts for the next two instalments are complete, and parts of the fourth film have already been shot.

This pattern is not an anomaly but the Avatar model in action. Cameron’s films rarely explode out of the gate. Instead, they linger. They sit in cinemas for months, gradually converting sceptics into viewers and viewers into repeat customers. What begins as hesitation often ends as mass acceptance, and eventually, enormous profits.

Despite this, doubts persist about the franchise’s cultural footprint. Avatar lacks the vocal online fandom of Star Wars or Marvel. It does not dominate memes or spark endless debates. Instead, it seems to exist in a quieter space, driven less by fan obsession than by the steady interest of the general public.

That paradox has always surrounded the series. It is both omnipresent and oddly invisible, dominating box office charts while remaining strangely absent from online discourse. Yet the numbers tell an undeniable story. Billions of people have paid to see these films, regardless of whether they argue about them afterwards.

The enduring appeal may lie in the sheer scale of Cameron’s vision. Fire and Ash continues the saga’s commitment to spectacle, immersive world-building and solemn themes about nature, exploitation and interconnected life. These elements may irritate some, but they have repeatedly proven commercially potent.

Had Fire and Ash truly failed, the consequences would have been stark. Cameron had already floated the idea of completing the story in prose, a prospect that underscored how precarious the future once seemed. That outcome now looks increasingly unlikely.

Instead, the Avatar saga marches on. It will continue to divide audiences, frustrate detractors and defy predictions of decline. And when the next instalment arrives, the cycle will almost certainly repeat itself: early doubt, loud scepticism, and then, quietly and relentlessly, the return of staggering box office success.