Our blog series on The Legend of Korra is now complete. In case you missed any of the posts, you can check them out here:
Spoiler alert! The analysis is written for an audience that’s familiar with the show, so there are some spoilers.
One of the reasons so many of us loved The Legend of Korra was because everything about the show–the world, the characters, the art, the plots–felt rich. The people and places of Korra were so well-developed it’s almost as if they were real. It’s not an easy feat to create a show with so much dimension. Today I’m going to break down some of the techniques the creators used to reach this level of depth and texture.
Texture can appear anywhere: in characters, sets, costumes, dialogue, animation, and so on. Let’s look at two of my favorite characters, the brothers Mako and Bolin, to see how they were given texture.
Mako and Bolin
We can all recognize when a character feels flat or one-dimensional. But how do you go about giving characters dimension? I wasn’t in the Legend of Korra writers’ room (except in my dreams), but I imagine that the show’s creators answered character questionnaires–like these from Gotham Writers Workshop–about all their main characters. That’s a great first step to developing your characters (and if you don’t do it formally on paper, at least do it in conversation with your writing partners).
But characters really come to life when you give them space to surprise you. You must let them break the mold of their character questionnaire.
They key is to give your characters grounding in some consistent character traits while allowing them to be human. For example, Mako is quiet, serious, and brooding while Bolin is goofy and spontaneous. However, they are not ONLY those things. If Mako and Bolin went around being nothing but serious and goofy all the time, they’d be second-rate sidekicks. What gives them dimension is BOTH their consistency AND their variation from their central traits.
For example, Mako has a short temper. He often has bouts of fiery anger that go against his usual calm self. He can also be extremely tender around women, letting his emotional sides show. But at the end of the day, Mako always comes back to his centered, thoughtful self.
Bolin, on the other hand, loves to laugh and never shies away from expressing himself. He’s a great foil to his brother. But Bolin isn’t only comic relief. He shows his tender and thoughtful sides when he talks to his girlfriend Opal, or when he decides to turn against Kuvira. We saw Bolin mature over the course of the series, going from a brash and self-centered player to a more serious man of politics.
Mako and Bolin’s central character traits help them feel grounded. But if they were too consistent, they wouldn’t feel human. It’s a delicate balance to strike, and it’s the key to creating textured characters.
Mako and Bolin get even more interesting when you consider their relationships to one another and to their family. We learn early on that these two boys were orphaned. For the first two seasons of Korra, it appears that Mako and Bolin have no family. But then, in season 3, the brothers go to Ba Sing Se, where they meet their enormous extended family. A great reversal!
The writers weren’t content to say Mako and Bolin are orphans, let’s leave it at that. They recognized that every orphan has his own story. They dug deeper by asking:
Yes! Mako and Bolin can meet their long-lost family. This was a stroke of brilliance because it gave the boys a history. It connected them to the realities of society and geography in their world.
An old letter and photograph from Mako and Bolin’s father
Nothing exists in a vacuum. It’s not enough to pigeonhole your characters. Dig deeper. How did they get that way? What forces in the world brought them to where they are today?
As a closing exercise, let’s take a look at a different family. In season 1, we met Lin Beifong, who was an interesting character in her own right. Again, I wasn’t in the writer’s room, but I imagine the writers asked themselves these questions:
The answer they came up with: Lin had a half-sister, Su, who was a bit of a floozy. Lin and Su were polar opposites who fought for the attention and respect of their mother. In a major family incident, Su was arrested and Lin was left to clean up the mess. But the writers didn’t stop there. They asked:
As soon as they started digging deeper, they realized they had a story there. By asking the right questions, the creators revealed depth in their fictional world.
The creators built out Su’s life and came up with this family tree.
The Beifong Family Tree
It was a risky move to introduce so many new characters in season 3, especially since they were only distantly related to one of the adult side characters (Lin). And it must have been a daunting task to breathe life into all of them.
But the writers pulled it off, and brilliantly. They spent the time developing each of the Beifongs into fully-fleshed out people. Su, Baatar Jr., and Opal all turned out to be complex characters with their own nuances. They all show texture through consistency and variation. Baatar Sr., Huan, Wei, and Wing were side characters, so it’s okay that those characters were more one-dimensional.
By weaving this large family into the fabric of Korra’s world, the show creators made a rich, vibrant, and textured tapestry.
For my closing argument, I give you this image of Huan, the artist, studying his sculpture.
A brilliant image because you can see all of the different characters expressed through their faces. Korra’s compassion. Su’s warmth. Bolin’s cluelessness. Lin’s hardness.
This is why we love The Legend of Korra. Because the writers, designers, and animators never got lazy. They used every line of dialogue and every frame of animation to reveal the humanity of their characters and their world.
Thank you for taking this journey with me!
Today we’re continuing to look at The Legend of Korra. Previous posts in this series have explored what makes the character and setting so strong. Today we’ll delve into the show’s plot. Specifically, we’ll look at the villains that created high stakes situations for Korra and her allies.
If nothing’s at stake for your characters, your audience won’t care. In his legendary screenwriting book Story, Robert McKee explains that
The measure of the value of a character’s desire is in direct proportion to the risk he’s willing to to take to achieve it; the greater the value, the greater the risk.
In other words, your character will only be willing to risk a lot if he/she wants something very badly.
There are many different ways to create high-stakes situations. The stakes could be personal (e.g. the character wants to get the girl or redeem himself). The stakes could be national (e.g. the character wants to defend her people or win the war). The stakes could be global (e.g. the character wants to save the world).
In the action/adventure genre, the central character plays the role of a hero. Just like many other heroes, Korra’s goal is global: to save the world. But it’s not that simple. Not every hero is the same. Some heroes want glory. Some heroes want revenge. Some heroes want to impress a love interest. What is Korra’s ultimate goal? Korra bears a great weight of responsibility. She is the avatar, a unique person in her world who is tasked with maintaining peace and balance. So, Korra is fulfilling a duty out of a sense of honor.
It’s incredibly difficult to write world-threatening stakes season after season without the show becoming repetitive. In The Last Airbender, Aang fought one enemy over the course of three seasons. In Korra, however, a new enemy is introduced every season.
The Equalists rally
In season 1, Amon threatens to wipe away bending from the face of the planet. This was a terrific high-stakes scenario for the show’s opening season. The creators knew that most of the audience would be familiar with The Last Airbender, so they didn’t want to repeat another war scenario. Instead, they created a subversive revolutionary group that put the heart of the Avatar world in jeopardy. They knew that their audience, and the characters, would care deeply about these stakes. But, importantly, it has quite a different flavor from Aang’s journey. Korra’s not exactly stopping an evil empire from conquering the world. It’s a new angle.
The Spirit Portal
In season 2, the creators again took a brand new angle. This time, not just the physical world was at stake, but also its connection to the spirit world. The risk was very high on many accounts: If Korra didn’t stop Unalaq, a dark avatar would be born, her own connection to her past lives would be severed, and Unalaq would bring chaos upon Republic City.
Korra loses her connection to her past lives
Season 3 introduced us to a new type of enemy, a band of super-bending criminals. The season was intriguing because the writers kept us guessing what Zaheer’s motives were. As it turned out, they were seeking to depose all the world’s leaders. This took the primary villain type we saw in The Last Airbender (the fire lord who wanted to expand his empire) and turned that setup on its head. Instead of an all-powerful megalomaniac, Zaheer was an anarchist who wanted destroy those who were in power.
But what really made Season 3 stand out was that Zaheer was targeting Korra specifically. In season 3, shit got real because the stakes became personal.
Korra is captured
I’ve already talked at length about why this high-stakes situation made for good character development, so I won’t get into it again.
What I’m pointing out here is that the show’s creators were able to find an interesting, unique, and new high-stakes situation for every season of the show. In order to do this, they had to ask questions like:
That’s how they found a fresh plot, and a new story to tell, every season.
In Book 4, the creators went back to their typical arch-villain archetype. Kuvira, like Fire Lord Ozai, was bent on conquering land for her empire. I admit, this did feel a little rehashed, but it wasn’t too bad. In the end, I believe the creators got away with it because we had seen so many different villain types over the previous 3 seasons, and especially because Zaheer was such a different type of villain and he was instrumental in taking down Kuvira. Korra’s journey against Kuvira took a very different shape from Aang’s journey against Ozai, which also helped make their plots feel distinct.
My next post will be the final one in the Legend of Korra blog series. I’ll be discussing texture and depth.
Now that we’ve established some worldbuilding basics, let’s get deeper into the various cultures in Korra’s world. We’ll focus on the 3 major cities of the Earth Nation: Republic City, Ba Sing Se, and Zaofu. We’ll compare and contrast their architecture, fashions, manners, and culture, then discuss what that those signifiers tell us about their respective city’s history, economy, norms, and morals.
One of the things that makes Korra’s world so rich is its pluralism. There are no monoliths of culture and politics (except perhaps the institution of the avatar itself). It’s a world with hundreds of different ideologies, technologies, and styles. We see this best in Republic City. Just count the different styles of clothing in this crowd shot.
This is a city that brings together people of many different backgrounds, just like many real-life cities.
Pluralism is one of the things the creators of Korra got totally right, and it’s one of the things that made the show so exciting. Think back to The Last Airbender. In that series, we saw very well-defined nations, including small towns and cities with their individuated styles. That was a pluralistic world as a whole, but there was very little mixing. As time advanced, the world of Avatar modernized and people started coming together in the United Republic. By the time Korra came around, Republic City was a thriving metropolis representing all four nations.
The fact that we saw the world modernize and change made it so much more believable. Real-world societies are dynamic, constantly shifting. The creators accomplished a great feat by considering how they wanted their cities and cultures to evolve over time. In this case, they enlisted the forces of modernity to create a pluralistic society.
But it’s not enough to throw a bunch of mismatched people together and call your city pluralistic. That’s not how it works. Real cities, even pluralistic ones, coalesce around a unifying culture. Consider that New York, Rio De Janeiro, and Tokyo all have their unique city cultures, even though they’re composed of innumerable subcultures.
The people of Republic City, like people in many real places, come together around sports. And their sport of choice is pro bending, a 3-on-3 combat duel involving a fire, earth, and water bender on each side.
When building a world, you want to ask questions like:
What sports do they watch?
What food do they eat?
What type of art do they enjoy?
What rituals do they have?
Pro Bending is the perfect fictional sport for Republic City. It’s fast-paced and aggressive, which suits the modernizing city’s appetite, it brings together the 3 different nations/bending types, and it alludes to some of the dark and seedy elements of the city. A sport modeled around bending is ingenious, and I’m so happy the creators introduced it to this world.
Architecture is something that unifies a city’s people. No matter where you go, citizens are always chatting about the buildings in their skyline because it defines their collective style. It’s part of their identity. As you can see above, Republic City is made mostly of large, rectangular stone buildings, with some steel skyscrapers in the background. The tall buildings are of a Western-style construction with some serious Asian flair, which is consistent with the style and time period (early 20th century-like). The state of the city’s infrastructure (it’s clean, functional, and aesthetically pleasing) implies a bustling, growing city. It’s a well-organized, planned city, which implies a stable and effective government. We can imagine there’s an active economy and that Republic city is a proud and victorious capital.
The slums in Ba Sing Se’s Outer Ring
Compare that to these old, decrepit buildings in the Earth Kingdom’s capital, Ba Sing Se. These are slums, of course. The houses are in poor condition and the streets are narrow. Homes are crammed next to one another haphazardly. You immediately see a difference from Republic City.
Take a look at the various strata of Ba Sing Se:
Outer Ring of Ba Sing Se
Middle Ring of Ba Sing Se
Inner Ring of Ba Sing Se
This is a segregated city. The poor, middle class, and nobles live in three sectioned strata, which already says a lot about the society. The Queen’s palace is at the center of the city, both literally and figuratively. When we see it, we imagine all the resources poured into building and maintaining that golden structure, and what that means for the outer parts of the city.
Still, there’s a common style among all three levels, inspired by what looks like Qing Chinese architecture and fashion. Even the Outer Ring has some public infrastructure (a rail line, markets) and on the whole it appears that the city functions in balance. Aside from occasional barbarian raids in the Outer Ring, Ba Sing Se is rather stable until Zaheer attacks and kills the Earth Queen. That event immediately throws the city into chaos, of course, because the whole foundation of the city was built around her.
The Earth Queen
Then there’s Zaofu:
Metal Spires in Zaofu
Zaofu is an ultramodern all-metal city. The buildings are unique and ethereal-looking, unlike anything we’re used to seeing in our actual world, which makes the city feel ethereal. It’s a sort of Shangri-La, governed by an enlightened family (The Beifongs) in a cultured, egalitarian manner. The citizenry appears to be completely upper middle class, comfortable, independent and enlightened.
The city is actually a set of pods with retractable metal shells, which makes it easily defensible. By necessity, the buildings are built around central spires, with the tallest buildings in the center so that the dome-shaped shell can close properly. It’s a shiny, rich, exciting city that clearly has a lot of resources. Perhaps because it’s a city of metalbenders, there is plenty of talent and access to resources to keep the city thriving well above its neighbors in the Earth Kingdom.
People of Zaofu
Everyone in Zaofu dresses similarly: flowing green robes with metal collars and other adornments. The similarity of dress indicates that the citizens are all part of a single tribe: The Metal Clan. Theirs is a specific culture with a history that dates back to Toph Beifong, the first metalbender. A heroic statue of Toph stands tall in Zaofu’s center. Her story is woven into the city’s mythology and identity.
The long, green robes are interesting. Green is the color worn across the Earth Nation, so clearly the Metal Clan is loyal to its larger national identity. The robes tell us that these are not working class people. Their loose-fitting clothes and jewelry are luxurious. The robes allow them to move around to perform their metalbending, but they are not practical clothing. Contrast their flowing robes to what Lin Beifong, an active police officer, wears–tight-fitting metal armor.
The necklaces, collars, and bracelets serve two functions. First of all, they are practical–they allow the metalbenders to hurl projectiles or cuff their enemies. But they are also ornamental–the jewelry shows off wealth and an appreciation for aesthetics.
A Dance recital in Zaofu
In Zaofu, people are dancers, craftsmen, and artists. They are wealthy and joyous, striving to live comfortable and meaningful lives.
All the distinctions between these cities become very important in Book 4, when Kuvira attempts to unify her Earth Empire.
Kuvira captures barbarians in the Earth Empire
Kuvira, a Zaofu native, takes the Metal Clan style in an aggressive direction. The sharp angles of her shoulders, belt, and boots convey a military authority. She has kept the green color palette because she is an Earth Nationalist.
As Kuvira goes on her conquering spree, she encounters resistance across the Earth Kingdom, first from the king of Ba Sing Se, and then from the Metal Clan of Zaofu. The different cities react very differently to Kuvira’s invasion because they have unique histories and cultures. See, everything about the behavior and mindset of these cities has been thought out in context of their place in the world. In that way setting can never be separated from plot.
I mentioned earlier that food is an excellent way to get into the particular culture of a place, so as a final example, we’ll illustrate the different eating styles in these cities.
Republic City has a plethora of restaurants, markets, and homes where people gather to eat. There’s not one specific way in which its citizens eat, because the city is a mix of cultures.
Tenzin’s family sits down for dinner
We already saw this picture when we were talking about the Air Nation, but I remind you of it since it’s a good example of a typical family eating in Republic City.
Mako and Bolin eat with their family in Ba Sing Se
These Ba Sing Se citizens sit down to eat very modestly. As poor residents of the Outer Ring, they have just a few simple food items.
A wider shot of Mako and Bolin’s family dinner
That’s a lot of people and not much food to go around!
But on the other hand, this sitting down to eat is clearly an important ritual for this large family. The table is in a privileged location in the center of their home, and the entire family gathers to meet their honored guests Mako and Bolin over a meal. They eat family-style. That is to say, the food is plated for everyone to share in the center of the table, and each person takes what they wish for themselves. You get the feeling that this is a precious, intimate moment for everybody, even if there’s not an excess of food.
Eating in Zaofu
On the other hand, eating in Zaofu is a luxurious experience. The meal has been prepared by a chef who describes the various delicacies. Each person’s meal is plated immaculately, with an expert presentation in ornate metalware.
Importantly, this is still a family experience. The table is shaped so that everyone can see each other and converse, and the environment is relaxed and social. Su takes her spot at the head of the table, but she’s not authoritative or stuffy. It’s a joyous gathering of a wealthy family. Never mind Lin’s scowl. She’s just angry for personal reasons.
I guess everyone’s got their issues.
Thanks for hanging out with me! Next time, we’ll get deeper into the plot structure of Legend of Korra.
Let’s start with this awesome shot from the first episode of Book 4:
Kai and Opal spot some barbarian raiders below
They leap and . . . off they go!
I know you all loved the moment that Kai and Opal spread their wings. I sure felt my heart rate pick up, and I whispered the words “I love this show so much.” It was an exceptionally surprising and thrilling moment to see the airbenders take flight in their brand new uniforms.
There’s no doubt that the Avatar world has some of the best wardrobe we’ve ever seen in animation (if not all of television…Game of Thrones excepted). But what’s the big deal? Why are so many avatar fans are obsessed with the show’s wardrobe? (Google “Avatar wardrobes”) It’s not just because it’s stylish (but also that). It’s because the show’s wardrobe is integrated into the world. It’s an excellent example of worldbuilding.
Kai and Opal’s costumes weren’t just some fancy new thing that an illustrator came up with out of nowhere. They were part of a long tradition of Air Nomad robes, updated for the new Air Nation and its peacekeeping mission. Look at how the color palette and patterns of the old robes were preserved. It’s still a crimson body and saffron collar, but it’s fitted for a new function: allowing airbenders to glide as they chase down bad guys.
Tenzin’s robes
Traditional Air Nation Robes
This isn’t just about costumes. It’s about making the audience feel like they’re witnessing a full, rich, and dynamic world.
Look at how tiny the tip of the iceberg is when compared to the big hulking chunk underwater. The audience will only ever see the parts of the world that peek above the surface. But there’s a whole lot more underneath. Consider some visible and invisible aspects of culture:
Above the Surface: What the audience sees
Fashion, Architecture, Etiquette, Food, Arts, Rituals, Political Structures*
Below the Surface: What the audience infers
Values, Morals, Religious Ideas, History, Cosmology, Philosophy, Economy*
Above or below, these are all part of the culture! Just like the tip of the iceberg cannot exist without the body of ice underneath, styles and manners cannot be divorced from the historical and social forces that brought them to existence.
Fashion is a great example. To understand why people dressed the way they did in Victorian times, you have to look beyond bodices and tailcoats. Victorian fashions were a symptom of cultural values concerning gender, sexuality, class, race, industry, geography, transportation, etc. It’s all a single unit. You can’t think about the surface aspects of culture without considering the foundations underneath. Even the T-shirts, hoodies, and jeans we wear today are reflective of our modern attitudes towards gender and sexuality, democracy, meritocracy, irony, apathy, etc.
The way an audience experiences the world is going to be from the outside in. They’ll see the tip of the iceberg first, and then they’ll infer what’s underneath. As cultural details reveal themselves, the audience will gradually come to an understanding of what makes this society tick.
The writer or director has the awesome responsibility of deciding which parts of the world to show when. If the world is revealed too fast, the audience will be bored. Too slow and the audience will be lost. Too inconsistent, and you’ve violated the audience’s trust. Revealing the details of a world is a monumental task, which is why so many creators get it wrong, and why an audience is thrilled when we get it right.
Now, when the creators build the world, they build it from the bottom up. First they create the body of the iceberg, and then they decide what floats to the top, above the surface. The way the viewers experience the world is the opposite of how the creators write it.
That is to say, creators must have a solid understanding of the historical, political, religious, and social forces in their world before they attempt to adorn it with details. Before I wrote my epic sci-fi novel, I wrote a full history detailing how and why the world got to where it was. I took into account trade, war, geography, mythology, race, and language. Ignoring those foundations would have led me to create an empty, superficial world.
Now that we have a solid understanding of worldbuilding mechanics, here are some pretty pictures!
The Northern Air Temple
To illustrate my point about icebergs, look at the architecture and geography of the Northern Air Temple. The Air Nomads built this temple in line with their practical needs and moral values. The Temple is situated atop a mountain, where it is protected. It has several towers, walls, and spires which make it readily accessible only to flying creatures like airbenders. This defensive structure tells us that the Air Nomads were not military or aggressive, but kept to themselves. Its clean and simple form reflects their ascetic values. The way it blends into the mountain shows us that the Air Nomads sought harmony with their surroundings.
The temple fits in with the character of the Air Nation. It’s not just a pretty building (although it is that too).
Spirits Near the Air Temple
Spirits gather near the Air Temple. Again, the creators didn’t draw these spirits here just because they wanted some cute critters and gorgeous composition. Having spirits near the temple is motivated by story. It shows us that spirits are attracted to this place, and not just any type of spirit, but a plurality of small, gentle, and flying creatures. The Air Nation is vegetarian and pacifist, and it’s recovering from a genocide. The detail of these spirits here reminds us of the peace and courage of the Air Nation. You certainly wouldn’t see spirits like these in an unstable, segregated city like Ba Sing Se.
Tenzin’s family sits down for dinner
Rituals around food are some of the best ways to expose the nuances of a culture, because everybody needs to eat and everybody does it differently. Look at how Tenzin gathers with his family. They sit around a square table at a low height, recite their Air Nomad grace, and then eat a modest vegetarian meal. In this case, we’re getting insight not just into the culture of the Air Nation, but into Tenzin’s particular family culture.
In a large and pluralistic world like Korra’s, there are many different cultures. This adds a layer of complexity to the worldbuliding, as you have to consider how the different cities and nations interact, trade, go to war, communicate, etc. It’s like building several worlds and then making sure that they connect logically.
*note: Politics and Economy are both visible and invisible in unique ways, so I did not explore them here. They are important to worldbuilding, but we'll save them for different discussion.
Last time, we explored the assets and flaws that define Korra’s character. We saw how many of her traits fall along an axis, revolving around different aspects “strength.” In Book 1, Korra had to soften her will in order to come into balance. Today we’ll take a closer look at her character development in Books 2, 3, and 4.
Korra begins book 2 having learned to airbend and enter the avatar state. She is finally open to meditating with her teacher Tenzin (though she still doesn’t love it).
As the season progresses, Korra will be challenged to further explore her connection to spirit. This is not something that comes easily to her–Korra is naturally physically strong and brave, but she has to work on her “inner strength,” developing attributes like faith, trust, and openness.
A conflict enters the stage, again raising the stakes for Korra (and for the entire world). This time, Korra has to deal with two challenges: 1) A Civil War between the Northern and Southern water tribes and 2) Reports of spirits attacking humans in the ocean. She’ll soon learn that these are two edges of the same sword–her uncle Unalaq is responsible for the war as well as the agitation in the spirit world.
Unalaq threatens to merge with Vaatu, a great dark spirit, which would make him the dark avatar, a chaotic mirror to Korra and all the avatars that have come before her. This puts the entire avatar lineage in jeopardy. In order to defeat him, Korra must once again do that which is most difficult for her. She must enter the spirit world, take control of her own emotions, and find her connection to Raava, the great light spirit.
What’s so wonderful about this season is that it gives us the origin story of the Avatar, but it does so seamlessly as part of Korra’s journey. As Korra learns about Wan, the first avatar, the audience also learns about him, enriching our sense of the avatar’s history, and rounding out our knowledge of the Avatar world.
Unalaq actually succeeds in destroying Korra’s connection to Raava, and severing all memory of her past lives. It’s a terrible blow to Korra, and and a handicap she’ll have to live with forever. The show creators make a bold move by allowing their main character to experience such a painful tragedy. Once again, Korra is sent to a dark, low, defeated place, from which she’ll have to rise up.
Which, of course, she does! By meditating on her inner spirit, Korra is able to extract the spirit of Raava from within Vaatu, because there is always light within dark (and vice versa).
It’s a similar formula to what we saw in Book 1. In order to face a high-stakes enemy that puts the world in danger, Korra must confront her own personal shadows. The enemy succeeds in taking Korra down, devastating her to the point where she’s almost defeated. But Korra draws upon her last untapped bit of inner strength, the one part of herself she’s been unable to access. In doing so, she is able to defeat her enemy and restore peace to the world.
Now, before you accuse me of calling this show formulaic (it’s not!) I want to make one thing clear. Although the broad strokes in Books 1 and 2 are similar, the story is still engaging and surprising. The show creators do not rely on formulas to construct their stories. Rather, they explore the organic truth of their characters, asking the hard questions and taking Korra to difficult places. Then they employ time-tested principles of storytelling to make sure that the plot gives structure and pace to Korra’s journey. That’s how they create a genuine, moving arc that works.
I’ve decided to tackle Books 3 and 4 together for a few reasons. First of all, the two seasons were written and produced as part of a single process (unlike Book 1 which was written as a stand-alone season). Secondly, Korra doesn’t really have a distinct arc in Book 3. She does go through a major transformation, but it happens only in the last 2 episodes of that season. For the majority of Book 3, Korra is her good ol’ ass-kicking self. Is that a story problem? Not really. It’s just a decision the show creators made, and it works well.
Even though Korra doesn’t face any life-threatening or soul-defining challenges in those first 11 episodes of Book 3, there is enough action to keep us interested. For example, the introduction of new airbenders, including the layered character of Kai, gives us plenty to think and feel about. The evolution of the new air nation, Bumi and other individuals discovering their talents, Jinora’s self-development, several romantic connections, the introduction of Mako and Bolin’s extended family, the political intrigue of the Earth Queen, and the wonderfully realized sibling rivalry of Lin and Su Beifong all keep us engaged. So there’s plenty of story there, but for now I’m focusing on Korra, so let’s get to the juicy part!
At the end of the season, Korra is captured by Zaheer, who poisons her with a metallic substance that sends her uncontrollably into the avatar state, putting her at risk of ending the entire avatar cycle.
Zaheer begins to steal Korra’s breath with his airbending.
This event serves as BOTH the climax for Book 3 and the inciting incident for Korra’s journey in Book 4.
Of course, Korra is able to defeat Zaheer and his clan, but Book 3 ends in an unusual place for a kids’ show–with Korra bound to a wheelchair and crying.
Book 4 is where The Legend of Korra really proved itself to be a mature show. It took this horrific incident–Korra being poisoned and robbed of her breath–and treated it with an adult touch. The creators humanized Korra by asking, What would really happen to a person who went through this trauma? They decided that Korra was no longer going to be an invincible cartoon character. They gave her human vulnerability. They gave her PTSD.
This is different from anything we’ve ever seen on a TV show for this age level. Korra, robbed of her vitality, had to go through physical and emotional therapy to heal from the post-traumatic stress of her encounter with Zaheer. And here we were as an audience watching an animated character become so vulnerable that we couldn’t help but see her as human. That’s a powerful takedown of traditional storytelling norms, at least for children’s television.
The creators took Korra through a real healing process. She didn’t recover overnight; it took over 3 years. She struggled to walk again. She fell many times and she got back up. She lashed out at her healer Kitara. She pushed away those who care for her. She lied to her parents and went into hiding. She chopped off her hair. She lost much of her physical prowess and her notoriety as the avatar. She lost her connection to the spirit world.
Korra began Book 4 at her lowest point yet. This was her rock bottom for the entire series. The show’s creators turned their formula from Books 1 and 2 on its head. Instead of beginning strong and confronting a strong enemy, Korra began the season weak and had to build herself slowly to regain her power. This is a whole different character arc.
Korra was plagued with fear and poison. After a lonely journey across the world and into the spirit swamps she found Toph, an old avatar ally, who helped her extract the last of the poison (but only after much failure and resistance). Korra now thinks she’s ready to face Kuvira, the military aggressor and latest, greatest villain. But in a one-on-one battle with Kuvira, Korra’s nightmares haunt her again and she falls, defeated.
The beauty of Korra’s situation was that she had to heal herself. Just like in real life. What was really blocking her from reconnecting to herself was not the metallic poison (although that certainly wasn’t helping), but her fear. Every time Korra tried to return to battle, or to get better, she had flashbacks of all her traumatic events–the battle with Amon, the severing of her connection to Raava, but most of all her battle with Zaheer. In order to overcome her fear, Korra had to face its source by visiting Zaheer himself.
In one of the most poignant scenes of the series, Korra returned to visit her imprisoned enemy Zaheer and endured the traumatic flashbacks. She had to suffer through her fear in order to understand that her fear couldn’t kill her. That’s when she found peace, and her return to the spirit world. Her greatest enemy was the only one who could return her to the spirit world.
And to her connection with Raava. Korra finally becomes her whole self again.
This is the crucial turning point in Korra’s Book 4 arc.
What’s so meaningful about this journey is that Korra was shown depths of suffering she had never seen before, and the only way out of that suffering was confronting her enemies heart-to-heart. That confrontation softened her in a way that she had never been softened before. It taught her compassion–for herself, her own fear and suffering, as well as for the suffering of her enemies.
Thus, when Korra faces Kuvira in one final, epic battle in Republic City, she is able to take a bold step.
She puts herself in harm’s way in order to protect her enemy. Even though Kuvira has shown no remorse, wrecked Republic City, and destroyed the entire world’s social order, Korra saves her life (notably, Kuvira was endangered by her own mega-weapon). Korra understands that Kuvira, an orphan, has suffered much. She sees that Kuvira’s hostility was a due to her personal pain. She actually feels compassion for the woman that has caused so much mayhem and destruction.
The Korra of Book 1 did not have this level of maturity. It’s only after facing such deep personal challenges that Korra finally brings her strength into balance with compassion. And this compassion pays off. Kuvira tells her troops to stand down, and the world comes to a greater sense of ease and understanding.
That is the culmination of Korra’s journey for the entire series. See, Korra’s arc through Books 3 and 4 completes who she’s been all along. By the end she has developed into a strong, faithful, compassionate warrior. She has truly brought the assets and flaws of her strength into balance!
Thank you for taking this journey with me and Korra.
Next time: Building the Avatar world.
I’m kicking off a series of posts analyzing Nickelodeon’s hit show The Legend of Korra.
Korra, created by Michael Dante DiMartino and Bryan Konietzko, premiered in 2012 and, after 4 seasons, had its final episodes in late 2014. It was spun off from DiMartino and Konietzko’s first series, Avatar: The Last Airbender. Both are among my favorite television shows of all time, and with Korra’s recent finale, I thought it would be a great way to kick off The Art of the Story.
Over the next several posts, I’ll be answering the question: What did the show creators do right?
Hint: Many things.
Korra was a huge hit, both a critical and ratings success. There is not one singular reason why the show was well-loved. It took several elements including strong characters, engaging plots, a rich world, and beautiful artwork to make the show what it was.
Here’s the secret: making a good television show is difficult. It takes a lot of work from a lot of people working in many different capacities. That’s why strong shows like this one are so rare. I can’t tell you everything the Korra creators got right. That would take years of investigation. But I can scratch the surface with you. Stay tuned for my next posts as I explore:
The Art of the Story 