…the uncanny similarities between The Legend of Korra (seasons one and two) and the two most recent Star Wars films (The Force Awakens and The Last Jedi).
This can’t be a coincidence. If happened to both the spin-off of a cult favorite Nickelodeon animated series and to the continuations of the biggest franchise in film history, then it must be symptomatic of whatever is going on in Hollywood and in the culture at large. But what is? I’ll delve into that in the next podcast episode.
Long story short: after struggling to continue the Avatar/Korra retrospective and failing for the second time, I figured that, in order to go forward, a radical change in my process was necessary. The solution: switch from writing about it to talking about it in audio format. The switch would also give me a chance to finally talk about animation in general, something I’d been promising to do in blog form, but which may work better this way.
I haven’t worked out all the bugs yet, and will listen to any and all feedback on how to improve as I go along. Still, I have a feeling this may just be the change I needed moving forward with this endeavor, which, as of last Friday I believe, marks the sixth year anniversary of this blog. Can you believe it?
Apologies to you all for yet another unannounced hiatus (that really has to stop now), and thank you all who stuck around for your patience once again. Let’s see where we go from here!
For the past two weeks, I’ve been trying to figure out what to write about the next few episodes of Avatar: the Last Airbender on my playlist, and failing miserably. Have I reached the limits of what I can say about this show?
Yes and no. In fact, I want to take a conscientious break from the episode retrospectives for a while to do a one-off piece on something that continues to perplex me, and which I’ve found very little written up on. Just how is it that Avatar became so popular and so critically acclaimed in its heyday, and yet seemed to leave such an insignificant mark on the animation landscape as a whole? Inversely, what did its spiritual successors, namely Adventure Time, do so right that made them the most influential cartoons in the last decade that the show’s actual successor The Legend of Korra did not? Was there something intrinsically flawed about Avatar that prevented it from having a more lasting influence? How much is M. Night Shyamalan’s travesty of an adaptation really to blame for Avatar‘s lack of mainstream acceptance? Is Avatar simply the Elvis Presley to Adventure Time‘s Beatles, the Pixies to Adventure Time‘s Nirvana*? Were creators Michael Dante DiMartino and Bryan Konietzko too self-consciously revolutionary for their own good (an impression reinforced by numerous interviews in which the two postulate that Avatar was intended as an antidote to the sitcom model that dominated the television animation circles that worked in, from King of the Hill to Family Guy)? Or was Avatar always destined for cult status no matter what?
I have no idea. But I’d like to do a post exploring a few theories of my own. I’m letting you all know because: 1) I’ve already been shitty for not updating in the past couple of weeks; and 2) I’m sure some folks have theories of their own–or maybe even some disagreements–and would want to throw in their two cents.
This will be my focus for the next couple of weeks, and then the retrospectives will continue like normal. For now, though, what exactly is your take on what I’ve dubbed “the Avatar Problem?”
*It’s generally acknowledged by everyone, including Kurt Cobain, that Nirvana adapted the soft/loud dynamicity of the Pixies, substituting the absurdity, the humor, and “hipper-than-thou” attitude with a more basic, more accessible, and more emotional approach (though no less melodic). Between Avatar and Adventure Time, the same kind of trade-off occurs, but almost in reverse: the expansive world building fantasy aspect is retained, but instead of the strict adherence of Avatar to a specific worldview and art style (i.e. Asian- and anime-inspired), the rules, style, and worldview of Adventure Time are borderline random, yet the show is smart enough to make this a key source of its humor and excitement, and the writing, the characters and performances are strong enough to make it entertaining.
- As The Legend of Korra continued its descent into dreary, perfunctory nonsense, “And the Winner Is…” used to be my one shining beacon of light. No matter how many times the series found new ways to surprise me with its incompetence, I’d always go, “At least we got ‘Winner,’ which is proof enough that, when Michael Dante DiMartino and Bryan Konietzko really concentrate their efforts, they can pull off a single fantastic episode.”
- That’s sadly no longer the case, and despite some flashes of brilliance here and there, “And the Winner Is…” is just another episode of Korra, plagued by the same shortcomings and lapses of judgment as any other episode. What I once misconstrued as clever storytelling was, upon close inspection, just sly manipulation designed to temporarily distract you from some blatant flaws. And for a while, it worked.
- The episode is a major turning point in the Book One storyline: after six episodes, Amon and the Equalists launch their first major attack during the Pro-Bending finals and officially declare war on Republic City and Benders all over the world. What started as a small radical movement has, with Amon’s leadership and with devastating technologically advanced weaponry, blossomed into a deadly terrorist organization bent on ridding the entire world of Bending.
- The attack is launched during the Pro-Bending finals between the Fire Ferrets (our heroes) and the Wolfbats (led by the smugly charming Tahno), which before hand, Amon had demanded to be cancelled. The City Council nearly capitulates to his demand, but thanks to the interference of Korra, and then Lin Bei Fong (who offers to provide extra security around the Pro-Bending arena), the games go as scheduled. Just as Amon wanted.
- For Tenzin, Tarrlok, and the rest of the Council, it’s a matter of keeping innocent lives out of potential harm’s way. For Korra and Lin, it’s a matter of pride and assertion: to give in to Amon’s demands is to basically surrender to his will. Neither can abide by that; not the Avatar, who needs to let the world know that she’s in charge now, Phasma; not Lin, who even snarks that the Council has no backbone and that she’s “expect this cut and run tactic from Tenzin.” (Tarrlok slyly makes her take full responsibility for what goes down in the arena, leaving his name in the clear.)
- It’s revealed here, of all places, that Tenzin and Lin used to have a romance together, but slowly drifted apart as they got older and their career paths diverged (to put it gingerly, Tenzin wanted to propagate more Airbenders, and Lin wanted to further her career as a police officer), leaving room for Pema to sweep in and lock that down. However, on this significant occasion, they agree to set their differences aside and protect the arena. (Whether it’s meaningful that their proximity to each other leads them to being distracted and being the first officers taken out by the Equalists, I’ll leave that up to you.)
- With all the entrances, exits, and skyways being patrolled by the Metalbending police, the Pro-Bending finals go as schedule. But there’s more trouble: Tahno and the Wolfbats are cheating, but none of their illegal moves are called by the referee. This eventually leads to one of the few successful twists in the episode, when the Fire Ferrets lose the match.
- But this was also anticipated by Amon, such that when the Equalist attack is in full swing, Amon rightfully calls them out as cheaters and bullies. (He missteps when using their unearned victory as an analogy for Bending oppression, but whatever.)
- After officially declaring the revolution a go, Amon and his cronies escape. Korra and Lin give a valiant effort to try and catch up with him, but with one thing and another, he gets away. The episode ends on a genuinely exciting cliffhanger, and its all Tenzin can do to keep from saying, “The shit just got real.”
- As I said, while the episode ultimately flounders under close inspection, there are still flashes of brilliance present throughout. This is still Book One, after all, which means the direction of Joaquim Dos Santos and Ki Hyun Ryu goes a long way towards realizing even the stupidest ideas. Think of them as Ridley Scott on a bad day (see Alien: Covenant, or better yet don’t).
- Among the bright spots, the voice acting remains mostly top notch. Amon’s threats would be worthless spoken by anyone but Steve Blum; Rami Malek gets maybe a handful of lines as Tahno, deliciously cocky and flamboyant to start, and then suddenly sympathetic and fear-stricken when Amon takes his Bending away; voice-acting veteran Jeff “Johnny Bravo” Bennett has a grand time playing Pro-Bending commentator Shinobu, who hilariously continues his commentary even as an Equalist shoots him full of electricity; J.K. Simmons and Mindy Sterling have a good amount of chemistry as Tenzin and Lin respectively; and yes, even Dee Bradley Baker strikes a good balance as Tarrlok in this one (it’s still a shame they couldn’t get someone like, say, Armie Hammer to make Tarrlok’s upper crust smarm at least feel natural).
- The twist of the Fire Ferret’s defeat still works, especially since it follows a fake-out in which Korra miraculously stalls the Wolfbats’ victory by hanging off the edge of the ring and then tossing Mako back in to blast that smug grin from Tahno’s face. (His subsequent grimace always reminds me of Beavis of Beavis and Butthead, and whether that was intentional or not, it’s funny as Hell.)
- Following the defeat, there is the truly horrifying moment when the Equalists arise from within the Pro-Bending audience, revealing their true colors upon putting on their Equalists masks. Whether this remains chilling because of the slo-mo reveal coupled with the great doom-laced music cue, or because of the current political climate in which masked, violent, allegedly “anti-fascist” protesters have sprung into existence, I’m honestly not sure. But the moment is effective every single time. (As long as you don’t think about it too much. More on that later.)
- The whole sequence of the ensuing chaos in which the Equalists take out all of the police officers and take complete control of the arena is well executed. And seeing Tahno and the Wolfbats have their Bending taken away is quite effective as well.
- The centerpiece of the episode is the big action sequence at the end, in which Korra and Lin go after Amon on the glass dome roof of the Pro-Bending arena. The best, certainly most crowd-pleasing part is the moment when Korra, failing to Waterbend her way out of the arena, is saved by Lin and catapulted up to Amon’s zeppelin by Lin’s Metalbending cable. This is the very first time we ever see Lin in action, and it’s absolutely glorious. It’s also a rare moment of actual teamwork in the entirety of Korra.
- My personal favorite sequence is the fight between Korra and the Lieutenant (played by a woefully underused Lance Henriksen, perfectly matching Mr. Blum in the gravelly villain voice department). When was the last time you saw a character in the Avatar universe elbow someone in the face (let along apply direct physical hand-to-head combat on any kind)? I don’t know why, but it thrills me every time.
- Finally, correct me if I’m wrong, but this is the only time Pabu the [insert hybrid animal speculations here] was actually useful and relevant the entire season. And I’ll be damned if I didn’t find Bolin’s animal chatter with Pabu to be absolutely adorable.
- Pop-quiz: remember that brief moment when we see Asami and her father watching the finals from their luxury box (and Asami blows Mako a kiss, making Korra jealous)? Ever notice how you never see them again the entire episode? Not only do we not see their reaction to the Fire Ferrets’ defeat—which is weird, considering Hiroshi sponsored the team—we don’t even get their reaction to the Equalist take over, nor do we see them after the Equalists escape and the dust has settled. Why?
- I have two theories, neither of them positive. The first is plain old negligence: DiMartino and Konietzko (and Santos and Ryu) simply forgot about them in the midst of conceiving the more exciting stuff. Who can blame them? Six episodes in this twelve-episode mini-series, and neither Asami nor Hiroshi has developed beyond abstract ideas to the audience or plot devices for our main heroes. In that respect, it makes sense that the audience would forget them, but in-universe, Hiroshi is the richest person in Republic City. You’d think someone would remember the Satos; maybe the police officers would be especially concerned with their safety. If the Equalists were brazen enough to attack Shinobu the sports commentator, why wouldn’t they go after the noble man and his daughter?
- But this is where it gets suspicious: considering what we learn about Hiroshi in the very next episode—that he’s been helping the Equalists all along by supplying them with the advanced technology—it’s entirely possible that the Equalists knew to leave the Satos well alone, thus buying them time to “escape.” But if Hiroshi knew that Amon would attack the arena after the Wolfbats won, then he must have known that the game was rigged against the Fire Ferrets the entire time, leaving him unaffected by their loss. If they did include a reaction from Sato, even once, it might have given away the game too soon. Thus, the second theory is cheap manipulation: DiMartino and Konietzko intentionally kept our attention off of Hiroshi so that their twist—that he was an Equalist sympathizer all along—could have any impact.
- There’s a problem with this theory, though. Hiding Hiroshi’s intentions—and therefore his reactions—for the sake of the twist isn’t a terrible thing in and of itself. Instead, why not at least show us Asami’s reactions—especially since she’s basically unaware of and eventually opposed to her father’s motivations? Considering she’s the one who convinced her father to sponsor the Fire Ferrets in the first place, you’d think their defeat would have some impact on her worth noting; instead of cutting to Tenzin fruitlessly calling the referees on their lousy calls, why not show Asami disheartened and maybe even averting her father’s gaze (thus keeping Hiroshi’s own reactions obscured, killing two narrative birds with one shot)?
- But there’s a reason such a solution was probably never considered (or at least given time to be implemented): in DiMartino and Konietzko’s original pitch, Asami was supposed to be a villain herself. According to DiMartino, as told in The Art of The Legend of Korra: Book One: “Asami came a little later in the development process. Once we had the idea for a nonbender revolution, we knew we’d need a character who wasn’t a bender. At first, we had planned for Asami to be an Equalist spy who was using Mako to get close to Korra. But we ended up liking her so much that we thought it was better to keep her on the good guys’ side. The development process was so important for Korra, because it allowed us to play with various story and visual concepts before the full production started” (p. 22).
- Despite how Asami eventually turned out by the end of Book One, you can see remnants of the original idea executed in the first six episodes. By which I mean that her true colors, much like her father’s, aren’t shown until episode seven; before that, her intentions are so muddled and her personality is so vague that we could easily believe she was a spy the entire time, had DiMartino and Konietzko chosen to go that route. [Not helping matters in the slightest, the voice acting by Seychelle “Penis Hair” Gabriel is completely nondescript; for the longest time, I thought she was also voiced by Janet Varney, albeit with a higher, more feminine register than Korra’s (which would have made their forced pairing at the end of the series pretty funny).]
- So in a way, both theories have some merit. By neglecting to give either Asami or Hiroshi actual characterization and autonomy, DiMartino and Konietzko (and Santos and Ryu) were allowed to factor them into the story whenever it was convenient to the plot. Again, these plot twists (i.e. that Hiroshi was evil), aren’t terrible in themselves, but the foundation laid to reach them are so shoddy and disingenuous that the effect is completely nullified.
- This is symptomatic of the entire episode. The big reveal of the Equalists, for example, is frightening, but leaves some questions unanswered. Just how did the Equalists manage to transport all of those weapons into the arena if every single porthole and orifice was being checked and guarded by the police? With all those bombs rigged to explode after Amon made his grand exit, it’s entirely possible that the bombs, the weapons, and the equipment were all planted beforehand, but they must have been hidden pretty well for that to work. An explanation of just how the Equalists were able to pull this operation off would have been nice (and might have even made for a much more exciting episode).
- Having the Fire Ferrets lose the Pro-Bending finals, while surprising, also loses its impact because of how contrived it is. By contrived, I’m not referring to the Wolfbats having paid off the referee to let their illegal moves go unchallenged. That makes sense. What doesn’t make sense is how complicit the Pro-Bending fans and audience are with this behavior.
- I’m not much of a sports guy, but I’ve been to enough games to know that true sports fans are not just passive spectators: they know the rules of the game, what players can and can’t do, and are sometimes even quicker than the referees and commentators to pick up on foul play. And yet, here is a clearly rigged Pro-Bending match, and not a single boo is heard, not a single angry call is made. In fact, the only people who call the ref out on his shit are the sports commentator and Tenzin—the latter of whom just recently learned the rules of Pro-Bending in the first place! You’d think the Wolfbats’ victory by cheating would even incite a riot amongst the Pro-Bending viewers, which the police would then be forced to pacify. The Equalists could have even used the riot as a cover for their attack!
- Instead, the Equalists just take out each guard one-by-one, unopposed by the highly trained police force, and initially unnoticed by the Pro-Bending crowd. (It’s actually comical seeing the audience blissfully unfazed by the chaos ensuing around them, and I’m not sure whether I should chalk this up to negligence or budgetary constraints.)
- Early in the episode, Korra and her friends intrude on the emergency council meeting at City Hall, where they’ll vote on whether to give in to Amon’s demands or not. It’s taken for granted that Korra can just barge in on these meetings when she wants to because she’s the Avatar. Then again, maybe anyone barge in if they really want to (Lin does later). There’s no security around the entrance, and on top of that, the door isn’t even locked. Is this common procedure for the single most important decision makers in Republic City? The Equalists would be better off attacking City Hall if the council always leaves itself this vulnerable.
- On a more serious note, in light of recent events around the world, the poor handling of the whole Equalist plot is more disappointing than ever. Extremists groups of native and foreign origins have reared their ugly heads, destroying society and the lives of innocent people under the guise of equality and justice for all by attacking those universally perceived to be “privileged.” Ironically, if DiMartino and Konietzko had focused less on gloating about having a female of color* action hero and more on fine-tuning and presenting nuance in their tale of political unrest, they’d have been closer to the Zeitgeist than they’d previously imagined. Instead, a conflict that had enough mileage for at least two seasons was cut off after one, and not even given a satisfactory resolution. O Aaron Ehasz, where were you when we needed you!
* Yeesh, is that PC enough for you?
Three-and-a-half more seasons of this shit?!
Two Weeks: Avatar: “The Waterbending Scroll” & “Jet” & “The Great Divide”
Promises, promises. I’m honestly thinking of abandoning the idea of these self-imposed, frequently missed deadlines altogether. On second, I won’t do that, because how else will I learn to discipline myself?
In any case, I want the “Winter Solstice” retrospective up by Wednesday, followed by “And the Winner Is…” on Saturday. Then after that, the next Avatar reviews–which will encompass four episodes–will take two weeks to do a write-up on. (From now on, the general aim will be one week for one to two episodes, two weeks for three to four.)
So I haven’t given up, even if “And the Winner Is…” was, admittedly, a bit demoralizing. Suffice it to say, it’s no longer the shining beacon of competence within the ruins of Korra that I once felt it was. Aw well.
My retrospective review for the “Winter Solstice” episodes of Avatar: the Last Airbender won’t be posted until next Saturday. By then I’ll have actually had the time and energy to work on it. This week has been crazy busy, culminating on Saturday with the wedding of a good friend of mine. It’s out of state, so I’ll be away for the entire weekend. Once I get back, I can resume my work here. I was hoping I could get this one done in the midst of all this, but it just wasn’t working out. I’d rather put it off and give it the proper due than try and rush this thing (especially for these episodes, two of the best in Book One and in the entire series).
Speaking of proper due, I haven’t been true to my word in responding to my commenters on the days I established. I swear I read all of them, and they’ve all been insightful in one way or another. For instance, latenightscribe’s last few comments taught me all about head writer Aaron Ehasz’s ideas for the Book Four that never happened because of the production of the live-action trilogy (that also never happened) , and how “shipping” created rifts in the writers’ room. The behind-the-scenes drama of Avatar and Korra is becoming just as interesting–if not more so–as the series themselves. I may write something on this in a post separate from the retrospective when I have the time.
For now, sit tight and I’ll be back next week with the retrospective on the two-part “Winter Solstice.” All I’ll say about them now is that they reminded me just how wonderful Avatar really was. This retrospective would not be nearly as tolerable if I had to watch Avatar and especially Korra straight through on their own. Even a terrible episode of Avatar is more inspiring and forward-thinking than any episode of Korra past Book One, so I’ll gladly sit through Korra every other week if it’s means watching Avatar again.
Bolin likes Korra, but Korra likes Mako, but Mako’s with Asami, but Mako actually likes Korra, and nobody likes Bolin.
- As is well known by now, Messieurs DiMartino and Konietzko have a weakness for teenage romantic melodrama, love triangles, and all that jazz. They attempted to fit it into Avatar—there would be a love triangle between Aang, Katara, and a boy named Toph—but that idea was annexed after head writer Aaron Ehasz argued that Toph should be a girl. That brilliant move saved us a lot of grief and created one of the most memorable characters of that series.
- With Korra being written solely by DiMartino and Konietzko, and with no Ehasz around to turn Bolin into Boleen or Mako into Makorina, they were free to inject all the corny romantic nonsense they wanted in their twelve-episode mini-series.
- They certainly go all out. Instead of the traditional love triangle, we get a love square, between Korra, Mako, Bolin, and Asami. Korra has eyes for Mako, but he’s already in a relationship with Asami. He does like Korra a bit, though, but for the sake of the Fire Ferrets, he refuses to date a teammate. This doesn’t phase Bolin, who sees no problem with trying to get Korra’s attention. Unfortunately, he doesn’t know that she’s only into his brother.
- Korra gets some “healthy” advice from Tenzin’s wife Pema on how to properly confess your love to a man who happens to be in a relationship with someone else. Here’s the catch: you have to make sure that, through no fault of your own, the relationship in question isn’t actually working out. This is bad news for Korra, since Mako and Asami seem to like each other just fine (although Mako does make an off-hand comment that suggests he’s only in it for the money).
- When Mako rejects Korra’s advances, she gravitates towards Bolin, whose own affections border on desperation. They do seem to have a great time on their “date” together, and apparently have a lot in common. Mako knows better, though: she’s just using Bolin to make him jealous (which he disguises as concern for his brother’s feelings being hurt).
- All of this comes to a head when Mako somewhat timidly admits he has some affection for Korra, so she moves in for a kiss. Unfortunately, Bolin catches this and runs away crying like a little girl.
- All of this romantic mischief nearly costs them their chance to play in the Pro-Bending finals. Before, they were a pretty darn good team, not stepping on each others’ toes, and even doubling each others’ efforts to be an unstoppable force. Once Mako and Korra start going at each other’s throats, however, the team dynamic falls apart, and Bolin, unaware of the romantic tension, steps up and wins them the next match.
- Unfortunately, after the infamous kiss, no one’s heart is in the game. Mako even seems ready to give up and try again next year (which is a great attitude to have when your girlfriend’s largesse is the reason you made it this far in the first place). Mako and Bolin get knocked out of the ring, and Korra saves the day with a miraculous three-in-one knock-out. Looks like our heroes are going to be in the championship match after all.
- That means they’ll be up against Tahno and the Wolf-bats, the reigning champs for three years straight. Tahno is a pretty boy who comes complete with a set of fan girls and cronies whenever he hits the town. If he’s a parody of someone or some character, it’s lost on me. In any case, it’s a good thing the Fire Ferrets have resolved their romantic differences, because they’ll need to stay focused to beat Tahno, who wins his Pro-Bending match off-screen and in less than a minute.
- Asami remains oblivious to all of these romantic antics going on behind her back. She’ll find out soon enough.
- The Pro-Bending sequences, as usual, are well-executed and pretty entertaining, even when the romantic antics begin to eat away at the team dynamic of the Fire Ferrets.
- It was nice to see Bolin, who usually doesn’t have anything substantial to do, step up and win the tie-breaker for the team, especially since he notices Korra and Mako just aren’t on their A-game that match.
- For as little screen time as he gets in the episodes (and the series as a whole), Tahno is an amusing character. Did you know he was voiced by Rami “Mr. Robot” Malek? I didn’t!
- Korra and Bolin’s date was short and sweet, even if it ultimately ends with Bolin being heartbroken. And while we’re on that subject, I’ll admit that Bolin’s crying fit, while mean-spirited, was pretty funny. Maybe not as funny as Charlie Kelly’s reaction when his beloved Waitress revealed she slept with Danny DeVito instead of him in It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, but still pretty funny.
- Funny as it is in its own right, in the context of the episode and the series as a whole, that moment is intolerably cruel. It may be the lowest point in the series, on par with the moment when Aang suddenly appears and gives Korra her Bending back, and for a similar reason: Korra is as undeserving of this act of mercy as Bolin is as undeserving of this act of cruelty.
- The comparison to the similar scene in It’s Always Sunny is no accident. Charlie wasn’t exactly innocent in that whole ordeal (which is why his tearful reaction is as heartbreaking as it is hilarious), whereas Bolin was completely innocent: he genuinely liked Korra and was totally committed to starting a relationship. Asami is also innocent in this reckless game, but for more nefarious reasons (which won’t be clear until episode seven.)
- Contrast this with Mako, who the episode implies only started dating Asami for her money. And Korra’s attraction to Mako never receives an explanation of any kind, unless DiMartino and Konietzko were fully committed to the “all girls like bad boys” train of logic.
- Also consider the scene where Korra discusses her romance problems with Jinora and Ikki (which should let you know the maturity level we’re dealing with here), and eventually Pema. While both younger girls dish out their own versions of “love conquers all” wishful thinking, and Pema relays her own anecdotal advice, at no point does anyone ever ask Korra why she’s so in love with Mako. Nor does anyone discuss the ethics of pursuing a man in a relationship. (Both of which I’d almost expect from Jinora, since she’s apparently the smart one.)
- Instead, we have Pema essentially give Korra license to confess her “love” to Mako, since it worked for her and Tenzin. Of course, for no other reason than dramatic effect, she doesn’t outright say who she stole Tenzin from (nor what her lot in life was before meeting Tenzin, but never mind), just so they can surprise us in the next episode when we find out that it was Lin Bei Fong.
- By the way, what was the point of casting someone as uniquely funny as Maria Bamford as Pema, who has absolutely nothing worthwhile to do in the entire series (let alone anything funny)? Granted, Bamford has been a Nickelodeon staple since the 90s (ex. CatDog), so it makes some sense. Then again, Bamford was funny in those shows. This is just a waste of talent. (Jill Talley, another very funny lady, was similarly short-changed in The Boondocks.)
- The worst part about all of this is just little Korra herself suffers as a consequence of her poor decisions. By all accounts, she’s the absolute worst offender and the main instigator in this romantic nonsense, from leading Bolin on with their “date” to antagonizing Mako with lines like, “…when you’re with [Asami], you’re thinking about me, aren’t you?” This is the behavior of a sociopath, not the protagonist of a children’s program.
- But Korra faces no repercussions for any of this. She does apologize to Bolin after their last Pro-Bending match, but his reaction is so nonchalant that she might as well have said nothing at all. More to the point, the time to apologize (to Bolin and Mako) was in the Pro-Bending ring, when their lack of team work damn near cost them the game. Then they could have set their differences aside and won together as a team again, which frankly would have been the much more positive message for children.
- Instead, Mako and Bolin are booted and Korra wins the match on her own, because she’s such a Strong Female Character™. I’m not opposed to this victory so much as I’m frustrated that it came with no character growth or introspection of any kind. Imagine if they’d given Korra a moment to examine how her attempt at a forced connection with one teammate at the expense of the other drove both men away from her, leaving her and her alone to fix the problem, and in her determination to face the music, would have found the inner strength and resources to knockout all three players at once!
- It wouldn’t take much extra work. Just one of those cool 360 camera shots (which they do twice in this very episodes) showing Korra all by herself facing the three other players and ending with a determined expression on her face (similar to Katara’s shining moment of maturity back in “The Desert”). But I suppose that’s a bit too simple and too sophisticated a solution for a couple of writers who allowed their fans’ obsession with character relationships to poison their own intuitions as storytellers.
- And frankly, I think that is really what this all comes down to: DiMartino and Konietzko, and their turbulent relationship with their own fandom. And a lot of that has to do with shipping, a topic I’ve tried my best to avoid, which is all but impossible when you’re dealing with Avatar and Korra.
- Long story short, back in the days of Avatar, you had fans wanted Katara and Zuko to be together instead of Katara and Aang, and you had fans who wanted the opposite. The feud apparently bled into the writers’ room, with DiMartino and Konietzko and others aiming for Katara and Aang, and Aaron Ehasz and others aiming for Katara and Zuko. The series’ finale made it clear which side won, but just in case it wasn’t clear, for the following comic convention, the crew made a special video mocking any bizarre character pairings, including Katara and Zuko.
- Does any of this really matter in the grand scheme of things? Not in the slightest, and DiMartino and Konietzko should have known better than to have taken so seriously what should have only been a fun topic of discussion among fans. Not only did they take it a little too seriously, but they allowed it to negatively influence their writing process.
- Not to sound like a conspiracy theorist, but I’m willing to bet that the forced pairing of Mako and Korra was an attempt to pander to those fans who wanted Katara and Zuko to be together, and—in its negative impact on the rest of the characters like Bolin and Asami—prove once and for all what a “toxic” influence the two have on each other.
- In any case, it didn’t work. No one liked the pairing, no one tolerated either character’s terrible behavior, and frankly, no one cared whether Korra got with Mako or Bolin or Asami or Bob or Carol or Ted or Alice. All anyone wanted was a good story well-told, and the forced and unnecessary romantic antics were nothing but a drain on everyone’s time and energy, be it the audience or the animators. Unfortunately, DiMartino and Konietzko were still flying high on the good will created by Avatar, so whatever they wanted, they got.
- And let’s be absolutely clear about something: Korra was supposed to be DiMartino and Konietzko’s bid to be taken seriously as filmmakers. After the fiasco with M. Night Shyamalan and The Last Airbender, Korra was their chance to prove that they could still provide the goods and be true players in the Hollywood game. Lord knows they got major support: from major acting talent like J.K. Simmons and Steve Blum, to the often brilliant animation from Studio Mir of South Korea, to the utmost enthusiasm from the Nickelodeon executives—to the point that they got the go-ahead for four seasons right after Book One finished airing—DiMartino and Konietzko had everything going for them.
- And they blew it. All for a few low blows at the fandom that helped create their success. Such self-destruction tendencies would lead to lower ratings, and eventually to Korra being taken off the air entirely before the end of its run. And meanwhile, Shyamalan has recently managed to make something of a comeback with The Visit and Split, movies that managed to connect with audiences in a major way, thanks in large part to their sheer commitment to telling their story in the most effective and entertaining way possible. If only DiMartino and Konietzko had the same discipline.
I can remember watching this episode back when it first aired, and afterwards feelings like it was a completely pointless episode in a series with only twelve-episodes. In hindsight, maybe for DiMartino and Konietzko, this episode and all the ilk spilled from it was the point, and the vastly more interesting Amon and Equalist plot was just a means to that end. Pretty sad really. Needless to say, it’s all downhill from here. At least we get one last gasp of brilliance before the series completely derails itself.
Next week: Avatar: “Winter Solstice, Part 1 & 2”