Random Thought From When I Was Asleep: A Surprisingly Feasible Crossover

Had a dream that Nickelodeon released a new Avatar series. This wasn't a sequel about the next reincarnation in the cycle, but a spinoff set during Korra’s tenure. The premise went something like this:

Years after the battle against Kuvira, the boundary between the realms of humans and spirits is thinner than ever, and tensions are running high. In the heart of the Earth Kingdom, the adorable children of a mixed-race family are hiding a not-so-imaginary friend from their overprotective parents: Hellboy, an ornery-yet-benign demonic entity (understandably annoyed that he’s been flung across time and space), who agrees to instruct them in the finer points of bending in exchange for a place to crash and sleep off his frequent hangovers (meaning their closet). Can the kids conceal the identity of their tutor long enough for him to actually teach them something useful? Will Hellboy find a way to keep up with his favorite shows in a world where motion pictures are still a relatively recent invention?

Hijinks ensue.

Dark Horse Comics currently holds the publishing rights for both Hellboy and Avatar. Just saying...

[Click here for more nonsense like this.]

Random Thought Before Bed: My Informal Pitch for an RPG Based Upon Nickelodeon's Avatar

Premise: Water. Earth. Fire. Air. Only the Avatar, the bridge between the worlds of humans and spirits, reincarnated throughout the ages, can master all four elements. The Last Airbender and The Legend of Korra have offered mere glimpses into the depths of this boundless mythology. Now, for the first time, experience a complete cycle, guiding the Avatar Spirit through four different conflicts in four very different lifetimes. Each incarnation’s actions will shape the challenges his or her successor must face, weaving a gripping narrative that demonstrates that the Avatar’s quest to maintain balance never truly ends.

Features

Four distinct Avatars offer four unique perspectives of the world. From a wizened Northern Water Tribe woman to the arrogant son of a respected Earth Kingdom General, from a Fire Nation youth masquerading as a common street rat to learn more about the people he’s meant to protect to a young Air Nomad taking her first steps into the Spirit World, each playable character provides a strikingly different narrative experience. One Avatar might be a loner, while another depends on the aid of loyal companions. One might revel in fame and recognition, while another prefers anonymity and solitude. The choices you make in each era shape the corresponding Avatar’s legacy—as well as the consequences he/she will face in subsequent lives.

Classic turn-based RPG action. Fights play out on a Final Fantasy-style “battle screen,” but combat requires more than just menu navigation. Executing timed controller inputs (system dependent) can improve your character’s “form,” increasing the amount of damage dealt. Be aware, however, that some Avatars are less comfortable with certain elements than others (the Fire Nation lad might struggle with his mastery of Water, for example), requiring more precision on the player’s part.

Explore a wide-open, ever-changing world. Learn new bending styles by seeking out old masters and ancient scrolls. Help various NPCs solve problems big and small, from quelling rebellions to recovering stolen family heirlooms—or leave them to deal with things themselves (a valid, and occasionally better, option). Then, watch the setting react to your decisions, in both the present and the far future: the leader of a revolution thwarted by the Earth Kingdom Avatar might be considered a martyr in the Fire Nation youth’s time, while the Air Nomad girl might be forced to fight an angry spirit that the Fire Nation Avatar failed to appease in his own time. The possibilities are endless.

Water. Earth. Fire. Air. And the cycle repeats, again and again. Because the Avatar’s work is never done. As long as the forces of chaos seek to disrupt the natural order, there must always be One who strives to restore Balance. A bridge between worlds. An Avatar.

Recently Viewed: Civil Wars, Part 2 (The Legend of Korra: Book 2, Episode 3)

What? Unalaq is an Evil Uncle? He betrayed his own brother and manipulated his impressionable niece in order to attain political power? I am shocked, shocked, to find that gambling is going on here!

Joking aside, as predictable as the revelation of Unalaq’s duplicitous nature is, it still works within the context of the narrative. Tarrlok made no secret of his ruthless ambition; the only surprise was that he was actually a fairly competent chess master. Unalaq, on the other hand, is far more cunning and coy, wearing a friendly smile as he preys upon Korra’s insecurities and sense of pride, dangling the illusion of independence in front of her to keep her from noticing the very short leash around her neck.

More importantly, this “big twist” does little to compromise Unalaq’s complexity as a character. His insistence that he only wants what’s best for both Water Tribes is obviously sincere; the fact that he has to sully his brother’s reputation (twice!) in order to more easily achieve this noble goal is, from his point of view, immaterial. Like most great villains (General Zod springs to mind, as does Amon), Unalaq considers himself the hero of his own story, setting him apart from the megalomaniacal Ozai (who,as it happens, also conspired to prevent his elder sibling from ascending to the throne).

From the beginning, the Avatar franchise has explored the concepts of reincarnation and spiritual continuity: Aang’s journey forced him to face the consequences of choices he made in no less than three past lives, and his own legacy sparked the central conflict of Korra’s first season. Now, with the threat of worldwide conflict looming on the horizon, it appears that history itself is circling back around, as inevitable and immutable as the dance between the moon and tides—and it will be interesting to see how the impulsive Korra responds to the same challenges that nearly broke her more level-headed predecessor.

Recently Viewed: Civil Wars, Part 1 (The Legend of Korra: Book 2, Episode 3)

Now this is more like it.

I thoroughly enjoyed the first two episodes of Legend of Korra’s second season, but I also felt they lacked some of the inherent magic and narrative urgency from when the show was still just a miniseries; to put it bluntly, nothing in last week’s premiere was as immediately arresting as “I’m the Avatar, and you gotta deal with it”—not by a long shot. I was hooked on Book One from the first frame; episodes like “The Voice in the Night,” “And the Winner Is…” and especially “When Extremes Meet” merely solidified my addiction. In comparison, “Rogue Spirit” and “The Southern Lights” were slow and somewhat bloated, devoting so much time to reintroducing the main characters and reestablishing the status quo that the true nature of the central conflict didn’t become clear until the end of the second episode (under the end credits, even).

Now that the shape of the plot has been firmly established, the story can unfold more gracefully. As Uncle-Chief Unalaq uses coercion, intimidation, and the full weight of his military to forcibly unite the two Water Tribes, he continues to pour poisoned honey into Korra’s ear, taking advantage of her self-doubt and desire to be an effective Avatar in order to turn her to his way of thinking. Meanwhile, wealthy businessman Varrick, motivated largely by greed (the Northern Navy’s invasion is bad for his shipping business, after all), preys upon the tension between the frustrated locals and the occupying soldiers, hoping to instigate an all-out civil war. Korra, in keeping with her role as the keeper of balance in the world, desperately tries to remain a neutral party… but will she be able to stay uninvolved once evidence arises that her own father is a part of Varrick’s conspiracy?

It’s nice to see so many of the narrative seeds planted in the premiere bear fruit so early in the season. Korra, who was quick to snap at Mako for “taking sides” against her, is here accused of being a traitor to her people, and though she is too blinded by anger to directly acknowledge the irony, the writers certainly make a deliberate point out of it. Meanwhile, the friction between Korra and her father moves into the foreground when she foils Varrick’s kidnapping plot: her relief when she discovers that Tonraq was not a participant in the attack is palpable, making their climactic reunion/reconciliation all the more heartwarming and tear-jerking (tear-bending?). Of course, this moment of tenderness also raises the stakes when Unalaq declares his intent to prosecute both of Korra’s parents for treason, an act that promises to further test Korra’s allegiances and challenge her perception of what it truly means to be the Avatar.

Next Friday can’t come quickly enough. 

For the love of God, guys, look at the deplorable conditions in which some of the poor, oppressed non-benders of Republic City are forced to live:

Meanwhile, this young earthbender flaunts his wealth and privilege, oblivious to the poverty and suffering all around him:

Open your eyes, people: Amon was right!

Recently Viewed: Legend of Korra Book 2 Premiere (TV)

From the very beginning, the tension between tradition and social progress has been a predominant underlying theme in Nickelodeon’s The Legend of Korra. Even in Republic City, amongst the glistening skyscrapers and smoke-belching automobiles, old customs continue to thrive—especially in the Professional Bending arena, where talented young fighters like Mako and Bolin put fresh, modern spins on ancient martial arts.

The premiere of the show’s second season pushes this conflict further into the foreground. Whereas Book 1 explored political extremism (both Amon and Tarrlok sought to punish the many for the sins of a few, utilizing terrorism and tyranny, respectively), Book 2 appears to be tackling moral absolutism--specifically, the practice of turning one’s own particular code of ethics into law. As Korra struggles to assert her independence and realize her full potential as Avatar, she finds herself drawn into a longstanding feud between her father and her uncle. The former, who was banished from the North Pole for disrespecting the Spirit World, sees no harm in allowing his culture to change and evolve over time; the latter, a staunch traditionalist, believes that the South Pole is perverting its proud heritage, and seeks to guide his people back into “the light” by any means necessary—even brute force.

Fortunately, Uncle Unalaq resembles his Book 1 predecessors in the best way possible: it is not his overarching goals that mark him as an antagonist, but the methods by which he attempts to accomplish them. His desire to reestablish a strong foundation of spirituality in the Southern Water Tribe is obviously sincere, and seems reasonable enough at first glance (considering the rampaging Dark Spirits and all). The instant the Northern Army makes landfall on southern snow, however, Unalaq demonstrates that he is willing to impose his will upon others regardless of consent, thus crossing the line into fanaticism.

This haunting final image foreshadows the immense challenge Korra will face in the episodes to follow, and I, for one, look forward to seeing how the young Avatar—the bridge between our world and the Spirit World, as the writers are fond of reminding us—will respond under such pressure.

Story and Storytelling: The Bat and the Avatar

Plot of The Legend of Korra: A masked madman and his army of brainwashed fanatics take over Republic City and declare martial law.

Plot of The Dark Knight Rises: A masked madman and his army of brainwashed fanatics take over Gotham City and declare martial law.

Coincidence? Yes. And it's an educational one: it demonstrates that two stories with similar (or, in this case, nearly identical) premises can turn out quite different from each other in execution--depending on the characters, the setting, the overall tone, etc.

In other words, storytelling is at least as important as the story itself.

From Comic-Con 2012: TMNT

I've decided to skip Nickelodeon's Legend of Korra panel. The line for Ballroom 20 is currently longer than the one to get into Hall H; last year's presentation remains one of my highlights of Comic-Con 2011, but it simply isn't worth the futile wait. Right now, I'm in 6BCF for the new TMNT cartoon. I'm a pretty big fan of both the original Turtles comics and series director Ciro Nieli (Teen Titans, Super Robot Monkey Team Hyper Force Go); I hope they're right for each other.  [EDIT] While I enjoy all of the various TMNT adaptations on their own terms, I feel few have truly captured the tongue-in-cheek darkness of the original black-and-white comics: the '80s cartoon was far too campy, while the first film and 2k3 series abandoned self-awareness and took the core concept too seriously. Judging by the test footage shown in 6BCF, Nickelodeon's upcoming CG take on the property seems to lean heavily on jokes and sight gags, but director Ciro Nieli promised a strong focus on old-school ninja action and heartfelt camaraderie (he named The Goonies as an influence, while Sean Astin, veteran Goonie and the new voice of Raphael, likened the brothers' relationships to the bonds between the Hobbits in Lord of the Rings).  The proof-of-concept artwork Nieli pulled up on the big screen was certainly reassuring, evoking the Kirby-esque aesthetics of those early Eastman/Laird issues. More importantly, it revealed a definite emphasis on character relationships--particularly between the green dudes and April O'Neal, re-imagined as a street smart teenager and voiced by veteran action girl Mae Whitman (the moderator described her as "the fifth turtle"). The brief clips that introduced the actors reinforced this angle, highlighting the personalities of the heroes and villains.   The real treat, though, came when Nieli debuted footage from the incomplete first episode. Seeing the characters in motion allowed me to appreciate the subtleties of their designs for the first time. For example, Raphael, the team's scrapper, has a few cracks and scuffs on his shell, which suggests a lot about who he is. That little touch convinced me that the beloved franchise is safe in Nieli's capable hands. 

The Legend of Korra: Five Reasons Why the Big Reveal Made Narrative Sense (To Me, Anyway)

In "Skeletons in the Closet," part one of The Legend of Korra's two-part season finale, the disgraced Councilman Tarrlok informs our heroes of big bad Amon's secret past: the face of the Equalist movement is Tarrlok's own brother, firstborn son of the power-hungry gangster Yakone--and thus, a powerful Bloodbender.  I know several fans who found this turn of events somewhat disappointing. Personally, I feel that, from a storytelling standpoint, it was the only logical conclusion.  And here's why: 1. Chekhov's Gun: Yakone's prominent role in the series' backstory made Amon's relation to him more or less inevitable. "Out of the Past" took the pistol off the wall, but didn't provide enough of a payoff to justify that much emphasis. "Skeletons in the Closet" finally pulls the trigger.  2. Recurring Theme: While we're on the subject of backstory, the Big Reveal continues a storytelling tradition that started in The Last Airbender. Just as Aang inherited his predecessor's problems (the war with the Fire Nation), Korra inherits Aang's (Yakone's sons, twisted by the madman's thirst for vengeance).  3. Shades of Gray: Amon's connection to Tarrlok further blurs the show's moral landscape. In an earlier post, I examined the similarities between the Equalists and the benders: both raise valid points, both employ flawed methods. The fact that the same events shaped their respective "leaders" just adds another fascinating wrinkle to the conflict.  4. Character Development: The revelation of Amon's true identity builds on Korra's character as well as the overall theme. After hearing Tarrlok's story, she realizes that in order to truly end the Equalist threat, she must expose Amon's deception, thus breaking his power over Republic City's non-benders (after all, simply eliminating Amon won't solve the underlying problem). Her decision to fight a battle of ideas as well as brute force is a testament to her subtle growth; this isn't the same young girl that, in "A Voice in the Night," challenged Amon to a duel just to prove to herself she wasn't afraid.  5. Escalation: Above all else, the Big Reveal serves a more immediate narrative function--it creates so much suspense. The writers twist and subvert our expectations to milk as much tension out of the situation as possible. Every time Korra and Mako think they've gained the upper hand, Amon is already two steps ahead (removing his mask to turn the crowd's outrage back on the Avatar). It's a battle of constantly shifting advantages that keeps you guessing until the final punch is thrown. Without the Noatak development, I think the final showdown would lose some of that spark. 

The Legend of Korra: Empathy and Sympathy

In “Out of the Past,” the ninth episode of Nickelodeon’s The Legend of Korra, supporting character/love interest Mako single-mindedly dedicates himself to rescuing Korra from the clutches of big bad Amon. He personally witnessed Amon’s terrible power back in Episode 3 (“The Revelation”); now, for all he knows, Korra—his Avatar, his teammate, his friend—has been de-bent, tortured, and left to die in a shallow ditch. As he desperately interrogates Amon’s Equalist pawns—partially motivated, perhaps, by his repressed romantic feelings for the young Avatar—he remains blind to girlfriend Asami’s obvious discomfort with his aggressive behavior. We may not agree with his every action, but we can at least understand the forces that drive him.

This is called empathy.

In “And the Winner Is…” the sixth episode of Nickelodeon’s The Legend of Korra, minor antagonist/bully Tahno bribes some Professional Bending officials to look the other way, then cheats his way to victory against Korra and the Fire Ferrets. Before he can celebrate, however, big bad Amon arrives to take away his bending, read the Equalist manifesto, and blow up the stadium. As Tahno begs and whimpers at the anti-bending extremist’s feet, we feel sorry for him—not even he deserves this fate.

This is called sympathy.

According to, oh, just about every writing class I’ve ever taken, empathy creates a more intimate, meaningful relationship between the character and the viewer/reader/whatever. So why has a significant portion of the LoK fandom (to make a sweeping generalization) condemned Mako for his actions while embracing Tahno in spite of his? Does sympathy actually create a stronger, more visceral bond?

Mako, of course, has his own tragic back story—lost his parents at age eight, grew up too fast raising his little brother on the streets, ran numbers for the local triad just to get by—but it lacks the immediacy of Tahno’s onscreen misfortune—or, more importantly, Asami’s. Episode 7 (“The Aftermath”) saw the spoiled sweet action girl turn on her father after Korra exposed his Equalist ties; did lingering sympathy cause fans to “side with” Asami without considering Mako’s emotional state?

As an aspiring storyteller, I find this whole “Mako situation” educational… and a bit troubling. 

The Character As a Mirror: Mako (The Legend of Korra)

When we’re emotionally invested in a work of fiction, it’s easy to forget that we have a privileged view of the action. It’s easy to believe that we’d make all the “right” choices. It’s easy to forget that truly effective drama requires believably flawed characters.

Reading through some of the fan reactions to “Out of the Past,” the most recent episode of Nickelodeon’s The Legend of Korra, you’d be forgiven for believing that supporting character/love interest Mako had replaced Amon as the show's greatest villain. His crime: a single-minded dedication to rescuing Korra upon learning that she’s been kidnapped.

This merely reaffirms his established behavioral patterns; he reacted in a similar fashion when the Equalists abducted his younger brother in “The Revelation.” The complication arises from his committed relationship with action gal Asami Sato, who begins to suspect the nature of his affection for the Avatar.  

Are Mako’s actions in the episode motivated by his “complicated” feelings for Korra (see “The Spirit of Competition”)? Probably. That hardly justifies such a venomous viewer response. He’s not maliciously “neglecting” Asami; he hardly seems conscious of her discomfort with the situation—probably because she refuses to confront him about it, instead coyly dancing around the subject with Bolin while out of earshot. Of course, Bolin spills the beans about the impulsive kiss Mako and Korra shared during the Professional Bending tournament, something Mako never mentioned, because…

Because romantic relationships—between teenagers and adults alike—tend to be unnecessarily complex, volatile powder kegs that would never blow up if only everybody was perfect.

And that, I think, is the source of the problem. A well-crafted character reflects the human condition. When a character makes a mistake, it reflects poorly on us; his/her flaws expose our flaws, our fallibility, our imperfection. That’s why the Korra-Mako-Asami love triangle creates such palpable tension—and why, I assume, it leaves so many fans upset: it embraces what we are, rather than what we hope to be.

Keep on making mistakes, Mako. You’re only human.