Spectacle over Storytelling– The Live Action Avatar: The Last Airbender and What it gets Wrong

Considering the poor reception of  M. Night Shyamalan’s 2010 movie adaptation (The Last Airbender) of the original animated show, the live action show debuted with bated breath and fans eagerly (and worriedly) anticipating what it’d deliver. Now that the fanfare has died down, it’s time to review and reflect. Does the live action show crash and burn or soar over the lofty expectations set by the source material? As always, spoilers ahead!!

At the risk of coming across as navel-gazing, I’m going to be referencing myself and my previous piece– Saturday Morning Storytelling: Catching up with Cartoons and Kids Shows. As I establish in that  piece, I’m deeply skeptical of the premise of the dark gritty reboot/adaptation of the animated kids’ show. Such a project often dismisses cartoons and animation as inherently childish and shallow, and ignores the strength of subtlety in storytelling that provides levity and comedic relief while still seriously conveying complex topics in a manner accessible to younger generations.

In fact, shows like the original Avatar: The Last Airbender are particularly poignant in my opinion because they aren’t reliant on graphic depictions of violence to convey horror, trauma, or grief. ATLA  explores all of these  in depth in the course of the show, and manages a great deal of nuance not only in the events depicted, but how characters act and respond to them.  I go on to say that “it’s important to acknowledge that displays of blood or drugs don’t necessarily make a story mature in an intellectual sense”. What I was trying to convey was that adding “dark”/ “adult” elements does not in and of itself constitute good storytelling with complex themes and characters ,which was a concern of mine considering the creative divergences being discussed and considered for the live action show before it was released. As it turns out, I had every reason to be concerned. 

The very opening of the episode sets the tone for the show. Instead of opening as in the original with Katara and Sokka arguing, leading them to dislodging the iceberg and finding Aang, we instead get a chase scene and eventual fight between an Earth bender and Fire benders to seemingly prevent Fire Nation plans getting out. The fight is revealed to have been orchestrated as part of a strategic ruse that ensures the Airbenders will be left vulnerable so as to destroy the Avatar. I have no qualms with the logic of the strategy, and I genuinely loved the impressive visuals that hook the viewer in right away. It proved to me that the fluid bending and visual gags in the animated medium could translate to live action, which was also something I was concerned about. However, it also proved that the show was primarily interested in spectacle (of bending and other elements), even at the cost of storytelling.

First of all, the Fire Nation and Lord Ozai repeat this fake-out later in the show, which rings rhetorically empty and unimpressive as a result. Consequently, the Fire Nation are painted as brutal mercenaries who have no real political strategy, or plan. And this takes away from the terror of the Fire Nation, which in the original was derived from the systematic cruelty the Nation espoused. The brutal logic of the Fire Nation is a subtle but important  counterpoint to the compassion and understanding of the Gaang (the affectionate moniker for the group Aang forms for his journey) and other nations, which enhances the show’s overall points about balance.

Part of the choice the live action adaptation makes sets up Zuko as a counterpoint to the rest of the Fire Nation and Lord Ozai (he is all planning and strategy, and is proven to be correct when his father disagrees). But it’s unearned, especially for Zuko at this stage of his journey, whose shame,  anger, and need to take his place as the prodigal son often blind him from better paths and choices he could take. And by suggesting Zuko already has the capacity to defeat his father (I won’t detail how, but at least part of it is in this sense he already has an advanced sense of political and tactical strategy and approach), Lord Ozai is actually stripped of some of his role as a sinister and genuine threat. We’re less invested in the stakes of the story, because we get the sense that things can be easily resolved. In the original, by contrast, Zuko is very much still a child, thrust into responsibility at far too young an age. He has to learn to not only be a competent fighter but a compassionate ruler who truly understands what his nation needs. Instead, we see him as powerful from the start, and putting him on a pedestal like this actually robs him of the chance to change in a way that reflects his evolving struggle with himself (at least to the degree in the original). 

The overpowering and sanitization of  the original characters, especially for showdowns (and thus, spectacle) is a prevailing problem in the live action adaptation. As I mentioned in my previous piece, in an interview with Entertainment Weekly, the actors for Sokka and Katara state that Sokka’s sexism would be cut out of his storyline and the live action, citing that it was “iffy” along with other moments from the animated show. However, Sokka’s sexism in his arc at the beginning of ATLA comes from a place of being thrust into responsibility at too young an age due to his father and the other leaders/warriors of the Southern Water tribe leaving , and having to compensate for his further insecurities as the only nonbender in the Gaang. Eventually, he’s taught a powerful lesson by Suki and the Kyoshi warriors, and he learns to become a leader through training alongside them after genuinely apologizing. This also improves his relationship with his sister Katara, who has had to put up with much of his sexism as they grew up together and even in the early stages of the journey with Aang. 

The live action show, true to the words of the cast and creators, removes this aspect of Sokka’s personality. He does have a superiority complex, but in order to establish why a relationship between him and Suki would happen in the first place without the development of the original, the live action  overcompensates on the two’s  romantic and (ahem) sexual tension. I suppose this is what the creators were referencing when they said they wanted to cater to “ people who are big fans of Game of Thrones”. Suki is depicted to be heavily attracted to Sokka right away, to the point every scene with each other is rife with heavy breathing and lingering touches. By contrast, the original demonstrates that Sokka learns to humble himself because of Suki’s strengths, and their relationship is thus built on mutual respect rather than physical attraction. While Suki is still a great warrior, the live action mostly reduces her to a love interest.

Inadvertently, in their attempts to remove what they view as problematic, the live action not only makes characters’ individual stories more shallow, but ends up perpetuating actual sexism that does not go resolved or acknowledged.  The show also reduces Katara’s complexity by making her a master bender right away. We don’t get to see any of her struggles with idealism that blind her to the cruel realities of the world she lives in, or her passion and fieryness that allows her to stand up to Paku and change an entire community’s traditions. (Instead they have no relationship at all in the show, and she literally tells him she doesn’t need him. And thus, no one learns from each other). Katara, like the others, is an incredibly complex, layered, and nuanced character in the original.

And while she has moments and references to the things that would give her nuance (like the loss of her mother), the changes made ultimately render her one-note– a powerful fighter that looks great on-screen (in the sense of her being able to bend and thus indulge us with effects) but not much else. Again, I’m struck by how the show’s attempts to remove the sexism in the original actually perpetuates new (and arguably worse) forms by imbedding static tropes rather than complex character flaws that are eventually resolved or reconciled in a way that is authentic to the people and the ethos within the show itself. 

Overall, the show doesn’t seem to want to give you much delayed gratification or gradual progression, opting largely instead for style over substance. There are changes made that I think are positive, like moments between Zuko and Iroh or even with his crew that serve to flesh out his character and motivations. But for the most part, the changes undo the potential each character has to explore their flaws and limitations, and ultimately their humanity. There are other examples that abound, but the ones outlined above point to the real problem at the heart of the show, which is that characters are often reduced to tropes or reach their final stages without any real sense of change, growth, or struggle. Oftentimes this is so that a fight scene or bending or another striking visual can be achieved, but it clearly comes at great cost.  I want to acknowledge that this might have been the result of uncertainty that the show would be renewed, but it’s still a problem to be addressed. And now that the live action has been renewed for a season 2 AND season 3, I’m concerned to see how the show will be able to keep up with itself and give these characters meaningful progression and real stakes. 

I also want to make it clear, I think there are things that this show gets right. There were scenes I watched with bated breath, and ones I genuinely took delight in. And I’m sincerely rooting for the second season’s success. I’ll definitely be tuning in– my criticisms come from a place of care, and there is nothing more than I want for this show to do well from an artistic and critical reception standpoint. After all, I’m a fan of the original and I would love for new people to discover it, especially as aspects of the story in regards to colonialization and genocide feel more relevant than ever. The visuals are spectacular (even as I’ve pointed out extensively in this review and reflection that that spectacularness ends up being a catch-22), the costuming fantastic, and the casting feels spot on.

I’ve enjoyed many of their interviews, and I nearly cried myself seeing the audition tapes and joy on the actors’ faces when they got the roles, as it was clear they too are fans of the original. I even felt happy for them when the show was renewed. (I do think that Katara and Sokka’s casting in regards to colorism and even the allegations regarding Ian Ousley’s tribal affiliation should be addressed, but that deserves an article more focused on that issue).  I also don’t think it’s an adaptation’s job to be a one to one reproduction of the original work, because that undermines the point of an adaptation– to re-examine something beloved, and offer up something new and original. I do think that this show accomplishes that at least in some way with some of the changes made (the revelation that Zuko’s crew is who he defended from his father works incredibly well). 

But ultimately, what’s so special about Avatar: The Last Airbender is the story underlying all of the fantastical elements– the magic comes in the humanity of the characters, bender and non-bender alike. And the live action  instead focuses on dramatic fights or changes that actually take away from the logical progression of the plot and characters. Consequently, it fizzles out where it really should ignite investment and anticipation for the characters and their arcs, rather than just the next fight scene or plot twist. Rather than a grounded reboot/adaptation, the show ends up watering down the original characters and approaches aspects of the narrative arc in a flighty rather than considered manner. (Ok, ok, that’s enough element puns, even if they’re being put to good use in my opinion). Regardless, there’s the second season to look to. Hopefully, as Aang says in the very first episode, this is just the beginning.