4 Problems With The Legend of Korra

Long ago, cartoons had fallen into a humdrum of cliches and two-dimensional plots. Then, everything changed when Avatar: the Last Airbender premiered. Master of ingenuity and creative-exploit, it was the only thing that rose above them. But when the world needed it most, it finished. A few years passed and the viewers and I got a new cartoon, The Legend of Korra. And although it had a powerful legacy behind it, it still had a lot to go before it would be anywhere near its prequel. 

I'd be lying if I said I didn't know the original monologue by heart. It was and is one of my favorite cartoons of all time. Avatar, the original series, was something I grew up with. I flew on the back of Appa with Aang, learned to control the waters with Katara, laughed at Sokka's one-liners, rolled around in the mud with Toph, and trained side-bye-side with Suki. These were kids that became my friends and my heroes. 

So it's hard to look at the newest series with fresh eyes. After coming to know so much, it puts a pit in my stomach to realize my friends were not immortal. They were human just as much as we are. And as they grew old, they died. 

I have to say, the first time I saw The Legend of Korra, I had to sit there for a few minutes afterwards and let it sink in. This was not the show I had come to love. But it wasn't bad. It just was so different, so realistically heart-breaking, that I couldn't bring myself to continue.

It takes a lot to follow up such an iconic series as the original Avatar, and unfortunately I feel like The Legend of Korra is too undeveloped for me to really get into. Of course, I loved the direction they took with both the characters, the plot, and the setting: but it still wasn't what I had hoped it would be. Here are my fundamental problems with it:

1. Tried Too Hard

The original series was a cartoon, I get that. It was geared toward children but it also garnered a fairly large, very dedicated, older demographic. And it recognized that. What once was an awkward array of comic-relief turned into smooth-flowing humor. Every joke, especially in the later seasons, was well-timed and well-written. They learned to balance out silly and funny. It could be a very serious show, but it knew when to do that.

Not once, did I feel like the plot was too sudden or that anyone was acting out of character. The Legend of Korra was a different problem.

The animation was more "grown up." With deeper shadows, older characters, and more hard lines. The Legend of Korra took a more serious edge. Like it too had grown up.  On one hand, I had come to appreciate that. It seemed to fit. After all, its audience had grown up. But it felt like it was too much. Like one day we had that charismatic, affectionate ten-year old boy and the next we were bowled over with this fiery and passionate seventeen-year old girl who was trying to hard to buy our affections. To prove herself.

It was jarring.

The comedy was misplaced and so was the drama. Serious scenes were interrupted by a quick punch of comedy, that left little to laugh at and more to be displeased by. It was too sudden. First they were fighting, then they were crying, they there was sudden comic-relief, then it was back to more fighting. It was choppy. Sure, it was amusing individually, but it never got to that well-timed flow the original series had mastered.

2. Romance Is Lazy Writing

Don't get me wrong. The Legend of Korra is a fine show on its own. But it has too much behind it to forget its roots. I wanted to come in and learn about these characters. I wanted to struggle with them. I wanted to share their secrets. I wanted to laugh with them and cheer with them. But what could've been great, was trampled in the underfoot of a romantic subplot that wasn't so sub.

I loved to see that diversity was still kept and more importantly that it was kept in its female lead character, but it was like they couldn't think of any other plot than the ultimate cliche: love, and anything related. We even got a predictable squabble between brothers and their lust for the new kick-ass girl. But, of course, she's a teenage girl with teenage problems. Yet why could Katara get a full-grown plot for herself, character development for herself, and Korra only gets "love triangle?"

Yes, Aang had a love subplot but it was just that. A subplot. It was realistic. They grew it out. It was paced throughout three seasons. It never minimized the characters or devalued them. With Korra, it did. It brought them down a peg. It made them unlikeable. It caused unnecessary drama and it became more of the plot than anything else. They were fighting a revolutionary war between benders and non-benders. People were hurt. People were killed. But who gets to date who becomes the bigger problem.

There was so much potential in those characters. They could've made up the next "team Avatar" but it turned quickly into "team I call dibs on so and so." It split them up and it kept them apart. Like the writers couldn't come up with any other plot between teenage characters besides who is attracted to who. 

3. Where Was The Character Development

We get strong, crafty, witty characters like Asami, Tenzin, Bolin, Mako, even Korra, but I feel like I know nothing about any of them (besides who they've kissed). Asami's plot is so relatable (a bad father with the right intentions, or a good father turned bad) yet we never see it resolve in any satisfying way. We don't learn about their connection, their family, their life before the anti-bending order came about. At least, not in a way that we could call substantial. We don't learn what she feels about the whole issue besides a few quick lines and a few hasty tears.

Then there's Bolin and Mako. This was a perfect opportunity to connect back to that familial bond that we saw before in characters such as Katara and Sokka, yet all we get is their battle to win over Korra. When I was originally introduced to them, I was so psyched to learn more. Who were their parents? What happened to them? How did they deal with that? Was it hard for Mako to raise Bolin? Why did they choose pro-wrestling? There were so many questions left unsaid.

Yet, what we get is information that is not necessarily wanted. Avatar: The Last Airbender never over shared. When we needed to know something about someone, we learned it like we would from an actual friend at the right time. We would see their history when they wanted us to. It was never pushed in our faces.

Even Korra is left drastically undeveloped. We never learn more than she's brash, she wants to fight, and she wants to date the boys. What about her parents? How was leaving them? How as learning she was the Avatar? How was training besides "boring?" What are her favorite activities besides fighting? Where'd she meet Naga? Why doesn't the pressure of being the Avatar overcome the pressure of who to date? Why can I count more episodes with one hand that did pass any semblance of a Bechdel test, than those that didn't?

I wanted to know so much, yet was given little.

4. There Was A Plot

I don't know about you, but I could've sworn there was some issue about a little civil war. Maybe I was just seeing things. But in a story, reminiscent of X-Men, The Legend of Korra took on a very relatable issue between people with power and people with none. 

It takes a very serious problem and vastly understates the implications. In my viewing, I felt bad for the Equalist (the non-benders) who only wanted to be treated like someone who could bend. But in a weird and awkward twist, they became more ominous and rub-your-hands evil. The show drew lines that were too black and white to make it believable. Like the benders were always on the side of righteous good and justice.

Yet, the cries of oppression are quickly drowned out in favor of boosting the reputation of the protagonist. 

Even with such matters as a large-scale revolution, we still get to see an entirely new complication through the pro-bender games. As if those are supposed to make us feel more sympathy or empathy for Korra and the crew. If anything, it diverts from the more important plot, it propels an unnecessary interest in love, and it begs the question of who is actually being maltreated when such "brutality" is cheered and idolized. 

There's so much potential in The Legend of Korra but, before it's ready to go anywhere, it needs to take a step back and find its own identity. It doesn't have to live up to Avatar: The Last Airbender, but it doesn't need to try so hard to escape where it came from. If it could only remember the story, the plot, the development, the connection that it originally had, then it would be something. Something great.