(Jan 4, 2026 – Avalon is still provoking thoughtful analysis – thanks to Roninpawn for sending this in)
Lady Pawn and I watched the little known 2001 film, ‘Avalon,’ last night. The one thing I’ve ever seen that hyphenates the words Polish and Japanese, to describe itself.
And I think it’s great. A real tone piece, with pacing that either draws you in and makes you pay attention, or sends you storming from the theater, demanding your money back, because somewhere along the way you lost the ability to.
That said, beyond the vibe, it doesn’t wear a particular message on its sleeve. If the film can be said to be ‘saying’ anything, it isn’t making sure the cheap seats can hear. And though this is the second time I’ve watched it, and both times I really felt connected with it, and with the voice of its author, I still couldn’t say what it’s fundamentally “about.”
So I’d like to dig down into it with you.
And I’d like to start before the movie does. Because the protagonist, ‘Ash’ is the key to everything here. But we meet her at the height of her ‘career’ as an Avalon player. And we find her jaded, aloof, withdrawn… a loner. And while the film itself occasionally dips its toes into the past, when Ash’s team, Wizard, disbanded; Ash wasn’t always a top player of the game. And Wizard surely wasn’t the only team she ever ran with.
As a natural talent, a young Ash would have been thrilled with her own skills, praised by others, and sought as a valuable commodity by other players. She will have been used and disused. She will have carried whole teams of lesser-skilled players, single-handedly. And she will have grown both weary and wise.
Weary of always being the best in the room, and being expected to pull everyone else’s weight. And wise to the manipulative hagglings and hollow praises of other players, seeking to recruit her, without being able to play the game at her level.
Wizard and her team leader, Murphy, would have marked the only time when she felt among equals… Or, in truth, among ONE equal. Murphy.
Ash was a lifelong outcast from her peers, by virtue of being beyond them. And then she found one someone who she could identify with, in Murphy. And there, she was happy — for a time.
But Murphy wasn’t happy to just be the leader of the best in Avalon. He needed to know what was at the end of Avalon. He needed to “beat the game.” And to that end, he abandoned Ash and all others.
We see an analogue relationship between Ash and her dog. The sullen, brooding, and emotionally unreachable Ash only ever begins to crack a smile while caring for her dog. And on a particularly bad day, she tends to her own ennui, not by treating herself to something special — but by splurging on a gourmet meal… for her dog.
We watch her prepare it with care and joy; a brightness we have never seen in Ash since the film began. And when the meal is perfected and complete, only then does she look around and realize… her dog is gone.
Later, when Ash enters into ‘The Real’ – and the color grading and clarity of the film’s images become sharp, clear, and conventional – posters of her dog are everywhere, beckoning her to the final location where she, at last, finds Murphy — who indeed had found himself the ‘end of the game.’
Murphy seeks to persuade Ash that this level of the game is the true reality. And he begs her to stay here. Even knowing that she’s come to kill him, and (we ultimately discover) bearing no intention of preventing her from doing so, he begs her to stay in this place — even after he’s dead.
The film concludes with Ash entering into the symphony hall, outside of which she killed Murphy, and finding ‘the ghost,’ that served as a port key to enter the game’s final level, standing on the stage. Ash approaches the ghost as we hear her final internal monologue.
“Reality is what we choose to believe. As for who controls the game, I choose to believe… it’s me.”
And she raises the pistol she took off of Murphy, aiming to shoot the ghost. The ghost stares Ash dead in the eyes, unblinking; slowly lowering its forehead and taking on a subtle, knowing, Mona Lisa smile. In this moment, and in the two identically framed shots – of Ash targeting the ghost and the ghost staring back at Ash – it occurs to me that the ghost could be what Ash looked like as a child.
Regardless, the ‘ghost’ being a little girl is of interest in this narrative. It’s described by the movie itself as having, “sad eyes.” And it only appears for the best players, and when there’s a high-ranked Bishop (a class of character in Avalon) nearby.
Murphy was a Bishop. Another breadcrumb of symbology.
But what does it say that to enter the game’s final level, you must track and kill this ghost — a child? If the ghost is Ash as a young girl, she is killing herself; ending her connection with her own past identity. If it’s just a generic, defenseless little girl, the player is nonetheless being required to abandon all pretenses of form and shape. To ignore what the eyes see and perceive that what’s truly before them is just another mechanic of the same game they’ve always been playing.
As a story told by Mamoru Oshii, the director of Ghost in the Shell – and coming out of the culture of Japan – the influence of Buddhism and eastern philosophy can’t be missed. Ash is a woman who has come to question which of the two worlds she occupies is the real one; seeking to find her former master, whose body is in a hospital ward, drooling and brain dead, but whose soul has ascended to a “level” that no other has ever achieved.
The disciple follows her missing master’s footprints into the state of his ascension. And when she finds him, he attempts to convince her that this is the highest of highs. That there is nothing greater to find. And then he knowingly entraps her into a scenario where she must kill him, threatening her with an empty gun. As he dies, he hands her his ammunition. And in doing so, he admits that he expected her to kill him. And that he also expects her to carry on beyond this place. He gives her his ammo, to shoot the ghost, and proceed to whatever IS above this level.
Despite his pleas for her to remain here, he knows Ash will move beyond this space, and actively helps her do so.
And while we might suspect that Murphy was truly convinced this level was reality, and too afraid to keep pushing for what comes next, that doesn’t really work. Because Murphy had no goal to achieve once he’d reached ‘The Real.’
Ash entered ‘The Real’ with a mission to find and kill Murphy, given by the keeper of Avalon. But Murphy only ever had the mission to enter the final level. Which he did. There was no next-step for Murphy. Except that perhaps Murphy’s next step was to die by Ash’s hand. His ‘next mission’ was to be the port key for Ash to continue her journey. And he fulfilled that mission expertly.
Coming from the background I do, I see the relationships of student and master; of the enlightened who knows what is truly real, the Bodhisattva who sacrifices themselves to guide others; and the seeker blindly chasing an intuition that there is something more than what they have yet seen; Who must let go of their ideas of ‘self’ and of ‘real’ if they are to perceive the truth.
Or! Maybe it’s just a live-action anime, video game movie, playing around with special effects. 😉
What do you think?