THE LEGEND OF KORRA Season One - Final Recaps (Patreon)
Content
Finally, we’re coming back to finish the last thoughts on season one of THE LEGEND OF KORRA! The penultimate episode exemplifies a lot of the ongoing problems I had with the show and then a big realization before the finale really explains a lot of how it got to that way.
If you want to catch up on the recaps, you can read the thoughts of the first few episodes here - day 2 here - and day 3 here. Onto the finale!
11. Skeletons In The Closet
“Oh fuck off.”
I admit I yelled this at the TV and I did it precisely at the moment you can guess. But we’ll get there in a minute.
Going into the episode I felt good because we finally had some real momentum with the dramatic arc of the story. The fire nation ships were coming in and giving their mission a real sense of direction and purpose. And the idea of them all hiding in the shadows trying to keep tabs on the army’s position really works because it gives their mere presence in the world some real stakes (much like when Aang and his gang were on the run). That being said, the whole sequence with them reuniting with homeless bush guy in the sewers is great until it immediately goes into “we learn how to live together peacefully down here!” trope and ugh, I have a lot of worries about this show and how it positions its sense of political nuance.
Aside from backing up notion of “the sage-like homeless man” (I mean they literally putting a stamp on it with the joke “You are wise and noble hobo!”), the problem is the narrative runs up against the kind magic folksy wisdom that is the enemy of good storytelling. One of the reasons that “The Great Divide” is so crapped on as the worst episode of Avatar (to the point that even the writers made an in-joke about it) is because it paints political and social division as some kind of nonsense way of thinking instead of a really complicated social system of predatory behavior and inequity. You can’t be above “both sides” of a system that simply exists. It’s like the people who say they don’t “see race,” and all that means is they ignoring the existence of racism, their own most of all. And the cavalier nature of this statement makes me really worry about the ongoing equalist plot-line that will follow.
From there, we move to the attack. The sudden appearance of fighter planes is precisely the kind of action-based bait and switch that works like gangbusters (I still don’t like some of the animation - I wanted to be sure I wasn’t crazy and my mind drifted back to the amazing intentionality of the animation of Avatar - in other words, you HAVE to put choices and personality in every frame). But things go real bad for our heroes and it’s actually really great commentary about how early 20th century warfare was about technological swings that could just end everything.
Korra saves the young General Iroh and after all my excitement at his introduction at the end of last one, he’s a big old wet fart of nothing. Really. It sure may be Zuko’s voice, but I don’t know who he is what or what makes him different. He’s written as SUCH a vacuous place holder, offering nothing but lines like “my grandfather would respect the avatar’s instinct, so would I!” Again, it’s my whole problem with people acting like these placeholders and it barely even internalizes the duty of coming with it. The existence of family connections of blood and lineage is treated like THE ONLY THING THAT MATTERS OR DEFINES YOU… Speaking of which.
Let’s get to it.
I said “Oh fuck off” the moment Tarrlok said Amon is his brother. Not just because it’s just precisely the kind of soap opera wishy washy bullshit the people THINKS will means something, but doesn’t. But because I really thought this show would be better than that. Hell, we know they can be better than that. But they fell for the laziest fucking trap. But in case my level of anger is confusing, I’ll explain why it’s troubling…
The audience doesn’t care about this reveal because we have absolutely no set-up for it. More over, we actively hate Tarrlok at this point, so we don’t care if he has a brother, let alone a villain. We also have no foundational understanding of why that wouldn’t be true either. Not only that, but Tarrlok didn’t even know that Amon was his brother before, so the information doesn’t reshape any of the narrative we watched before, nor is there any meaningful change of scope to how they will proceed. And EVEN ON A CHARACTER LEVEL, why would this information make Mako and Korra audibly gasp? Seriously, everything about that moment is nothing.
So, like everything in this show, the weight falls on the ensuing explanation.
The story that Tarrlok tells is affecting enough. Their father had his bending taken away by Aang, so he pushed his bending sons toward revenge. But Amon takes the powers taught to him by this same abusive, stern father and therefore sees bending itself as the problem, hence this revolution. Is it pat as hell? Sure! But at least it’s clearly motivated, which is something I will desperately ake in this show. However, am I alone in thinking these reveals make Tarrlok’s psychology a damn mess? Like, it explains blood bending, but not how he became the person he is? He says something as justification like “my father’s teachings influenced me more than I like,” but I’m sorry, that doesn’t track whatsoever. It becomes more lip service for people justifying behavior that doesn’t add up to who they are.
At it’s best possible interoperation, you can argue that we’re finally getting back at the theme of familial inheritance and how those traumas can be very, very bad. But the storytelling isn’t pointed enough to land this stuff. More over, it often embodies the same problems. Really, what I can’t stop thinking about is the damn directionless nature of all of these choices. The hiding of this plot-line, the mystery that’s not actually a mystery. There’s absolute no narrative point to telling the story this way, other than to hide a lack of intention. To the point that I GENUINELY think it would be better if we knew the story of these two brothers at the very start of the season. I’m not kidding.
And just as everything seems to ramp up, I’m realizing just how little actual story has been told about these relationships. They’ve been lists of emotions stacking up, with no real powerful shifts in dynamic. The Asami / Mako goodbye is vague and still nothing. It’s like their entire “story” was just Asami giving sad looks as Mako fought with Korra. Bolin’s disappeared into pure comic relief with nothing else going on. And most of all: has Korra had any kind of arc or development since the early episodes? I’m honestly sort of dumfounded how little is really going on with her arc at this point in the story.
Which is why Tarrlok’s plea to “put an end to this sad story” hits me in such a similar way. We’re heading into the finale and even though so much has been “explained,” I really have no interest in the conclusion of these plots. I more just want this part of story to be over. Not so I can end, but because I know there’s something here. Something deeper in the DNA of THE LEGEND OF KORRA that can come to life with upstanding verve. And I want it to get to a better show as soon as I can..
12. Endgame
Going into this episode I mused, “I can’t believe this was written by the same people!”
… And that’s when I realized it wasn’t.
For some reason I had it mixed up at in my mind that Avatar creators, directors, and producers Bryan Konietzko and Michael Dante DiMartino were also part of the core writing team, but that honor instead belongs to John O’Bryan, Aaron Ehasz, Elizabeth Welch Ehasz, Tim Hedrick, Joshua Hamilton, May Chan, James Eagan and many more talented staff writers. This is not a knock on Konietzko and DiMartino, as I perfectly understand that creativity and ideas come from teams that spread out even further than that. But I also understand that writing is a craft in its own right. And writing “a good episode of television” really requires nuances and a sense of know-how that makes story function come to the forefront. And with Avatar, it came to the fucking forefront. I was just going over JM Mutore’s ranking of episodes and remembered just how much Avatar was nearly a pitch-perfect show full of layered execution of the fundamentals. It was a show build of the tenets of drama and properly setting up turns and throwing you into a character’s headspace with abject clarity.
Meanwhile, The Legend of Korra has felt radically different. You can see the big ideas. The same sense of the humor. The striking visuals. But you’ve also seen me rail episode after episode when it comes to about the misordering of basic story information, the lack of clarity, and the inability to track a character’s interiority. Thinking it was the same writers, I was so confused. i thought they were hiding and giving into bad instincts. But now I realize it’s a perfect example of what happens when directors waltz in and assume they can write.
Because make no mistake, it is precisely the problems we’ve seen in Season One that separate established TV writers from those who do their best impersonation of writing. I realize that phrasing may sound harsh, but I do not want it to be. Bryan and Michael are obviously incredible at so many things. Their sense of fun and world building and style is unparalleled. There is not a person who can take that away. What I hope the phrasing does is make you realize how hard it is to write television and how much incredible discipline it takes. And ultimately, the difference between the two shows does all the harsh illumination for us.
Still, the realization I had was both worrying and freeing. I spent all of this season feeling like something had gone DESPERATELY WRONG. But now I simply worry that there’s just going to be more of this lack of story chops at the heart of all the show that is follow (we will see, of course. I hope they absolutely get the hang of things). But true to this established dynamic, the finale of season one has wonderful action moments. I could talk to you about the joys of Mako’s Johnny Storm fire battle against the planes, or Korra’s big battle, but ultimately, I can’t help but worry it’s all sound and fury, signifying nothing. Again, this may sound harsh but let me ask you a question…
What is season one of The Legend of Korra actually about?
Because damned if I know. The equalist plot-line ends up being a big nothingburger, with absolutely zero commentary on what it means to be special or normal or anything in between. It’s part of the “above it all” politicking I worry so much will be a running theme of the show. And for a show supposedly about thoughtful reflexivism, the equalists were really the bad guys because they were trying to take away the fun of bending. I honestly think that’s all there is to it.
The final arcs also end up being about nothing. Asami’s father’s psychology feels wildly inconsistent. Bolin gets to do nothing. We have Amon and Tarrlok going off and that final image of sacrifice could be so powerful, but none of it is set up in a functional way. Even Korra learns to air bend out of a desperate moment that I feel l would have been so much more transcendent if it was set up right. Instead (like her first air bending moment) it just happens because now the story is read for her to be able to do it, not vice versa. And sadly, Korra’s love story with Mako does nothing for me, the culmination of a wishy-washy set-up. Even the episode’s title “endgame” hits me in a bad way because it really makes the storytelling seem like it was all part of a game in a writers head, pieces moving willy nilly about a chessboard until one of them falls.
But plots aren’t games. The best plots feel like organic extensions of character’s beliefs and behaviors and the way they come clashing together to create meaning. But so far Korra has been a game of hiding all intention under the vague allure of bad mystery. And when you don’t know how to write you just play out the same conflicts again and again in waffling fashion, changing words, but not changing our behavior. To that, I’m mostly thinking about the final scene…
The lesson that Korra could find her spiritual side at her low point the power to change- it’s a powerful idea. But they don’t put any meaning into it. Nothing connects to anything deeper inside her psychology, nor even a part of the story. Character change takes work and articulating what the change is really about (in comparison, think about the episode Bitter Work from Avatar and how much it understands the psychology of bending and change). But instead, It’s just treated as an instant cure all with no work put it into. I think about this moment and how all the joy I’ve gotten has come not in direct comparison of quality, but the nostalgic sense of a lasting impact of that prior show…
Which also leads me to a question: what would someone think of all this if they’d never seen Avatar before? The show is SO dependent on your prior familiarity that it seems like it’s almost impenetrable. What would seeing “uncle Bumi” mean to them? Because it wouldn’t mean anything to an outsider. And that’s because the show rarely seems to know how to evolve out of the belief that “Hey your grandkids are literal stand-ins for you.”
And of all the things I expected from this show, I didn’t expect myself to slowly slide into a place of… well, not disdain, but I’m just not really excited about any of this. I like the the designs, I like moments, I like some ideas. But the first season of KORRA is a show that wants to look and sound like something so much more than it really is. I like the ambition. And I’m going to keep up. But I also admit: I don’t really trust their ability to deliver on that ambition. Because without the grounded writing behind it?
It’s missing the soul of what made Avatar so transcendent.
<3HULK