Korra: A Gem in an Endless Sea of Blah

When animated films are good, they're really good. Perhaps it's because they're almost always aimed at kids and we adults have low standards for kids' media. In other words, it's okay if we don't like a cartoon because, quite frankly, we're not meant to. So it's no surprise that the good ones stand out. By 'good', I'm talking about those rare gems we'd exuberantly show off to anyone we know, anywhere. A classic example is The Lion King; and recent illustrations include How to Train Your Dragon and Despicable Me. Films that both kids and grown ups can enjoy. They appeal to the imaginative minds of children; they bring out the inner child within adults; and they incorporate a moderate level of sophistication rarely seen in children's media - the elements of which kids would find hard to identify. We're lucky if we get one of these a year. It's a shame, really.

Just imagine if there was a series - not a film, a series - that presented a beautifully crafted tale every week reminiscent of how The Lion King once did. It'd depict an intricate plot with real-world parallels, three-dimensional characters and mature themes; it'd sustain a fine balance of humour and heart-stopping drama; it'd cast protagonists with questionable motives and antagonists with justifiable values; it'd display adrenaline-pumping action sequences, each one individually drawn; and it'd incorporate elements of symbolism with regards to lighting, music and more. This last one you might find surprising, even if it is just your imagination. Well imagine no more, my friends (or perhaps enemies now that I've compared an obviously not-merely-hypothetical animated series to The Lion King. You'll get over it). This series is very real.

Now, I rarely ever watch cartoons. They're either too silly, or too silly and incredibly drawn-out with bad voice acting and dubbing. Which is fine if you're ten. But you're not; and it's about time you were granted an exception.

The Legend of Korra.

A show that combines all of the good elements - everything you could ever want - into a seamless, plot-and-action intensive series of grandeur. Heck, we're only up to episode seven!

Pure awesome.

The story is a continuation of Avatar: The Last Airbender, and picks up the tale seventy years later when most of the original characters are dead. Yet, unlike so many series today which repeat their plots with new characters, this is an entirely new story with new themes and a new setting, all in the same Avatar universe. The plot is very simple: a creepy masked man, Aman, wants to rid Republic City of benders (magic people), because many benders see fit to oppress those who can't bend (normal people). Aman wants everyone to be equals; and even creepier than his creepy mask: he has the means to make it happen. This foundation gives rise to a lot of political themes; and the fact that the cast includes several descendants of Aang and company allows for a complex, intertwining history between this series' characters, and thus the motives and hidden relationships behind them all. Of course, the only character blatantly hiding is Aman, whose real motives are yet to be unveiled, symbolised in his mask. Heck, we don't even know what his face looked like (-ed because he claims to have lost it to a bunch of benders long ago). But we viewers know better than to believe his evidently virtuous scheme. He's obviously power-hungry for some unknown but will-later-be-revealed reason. Then again, he has a point. Oppression isn't fun.

This chick gets in the way of Korra and her love interest. But whose side is she really on? 

Speaking of symbolism.

In the same episode where we discover Aman's plans (episode three), there is the inevitable closing action sequence as Korra (the Avatar), Mako and Bolin make their escape. The latter two get separated from Korra, and to their dismay they're being pursued by one of Aman's Chi-blockers, who proves to be more skilled in combat than both of them combined. Moments later our two heroes are on the ground, unable to recover; and, in the middle of the dusty, dark alley in which they fought, the no-name villain, towering over his beaten-down victims, speaks up. "You benders need to understand. There's no place in the world for you anymore." Quite a demoralising line to hear, yet viewers are encouraged to agree. Two skilled benders just got pummelled by someone with no powers at all. The musty, forlorn alley only adds to the harsh reality.

Just as he finishes, however, a spike of earth protrudes from the ground beneath him, flinging him into a wall. As he struggles to get up, a promising tune begins to play. It starts off quiet as the camera switches to Korra, who's standing around the corner. Her face is darkened by the presence of key lighting blasting in from behind her. The henchman doesn't yet realise that she's the one he needs to fear. Just as well, he can't identify her. She confidently replies, "I wouldn't count us out just yet." As she whistles for her polar bear dog, Naga, the music intensifies. The four of them make their escape as more henchmen arrive. However, Aman, standing composed and authoritative on a balcony, stops them. "Let her go," he says. His men and the music obey. "She's the perfect messenger to tell the city of my power."

Commanding his men and, in a way, the music to stop is a testament to his influential power, the power of words - another political reference. And in having the final say, viewers understand that he's won that round against the Avatar. Evidently the information Korra discovered about him aligns perfectly with his plan. At the same time, the lighting around Korra combined with the music emphasises her essential role as a source of hope to a city on the brink of civil war. Overall, the scene itself wasn't put there just because fans like action. It was vital for establishing fundamental character roles. While Korra and Mako were on Naga's back, Bolin was being carried in its mouth. That's him in a nutshell; but we already knew that.

Pure awesome 2.

Sure, even after an analysis, the scene isn't hell-deep. But the elements are there; and they work. Remember, it's a kids' show. The fact that the creators chose to include these subtleties at all is breathtaking. Even if you're not mesmerised by such details, their inclusion, when done right, makes a show satisfying. It's art, I tell you. And if you're still not convinced, well... The Legend of Korra has better drama than Days of Our Lives, deeper romance than Twilight; and it's really, really pretty.