Avatar: The Last Airbender: A Fully Realized World

First up, I want to say that something pretty cool happened yesterday. I recently started taking Kung Fu lessons, and my Sifu told a few people in the class yesterday that he recently saw the film version, The Last Airbender, and that he liked it and thought that the story was true to Daoist notions of balance. In addition to the fact that the creators hired a sifu trained in various styles of Chinese martial arts (each bending style was modeled after a different kind of martial art) to act as consultant to ensure the animation accurately reflected the different styles, this shows that the creators tried to bring a level of legitimacy and accuracy to a "kids show," a genre not always known for realism or accurate portrayals.

This is further evidence of the show's maturity and ability to create a believable world, despite the presence of people who can manipulate the elements, flying bison, and active spirits. People still act like people, and are driven by various motivations, such as pride, greed, nationalism, morality, and survival, and the various world of the the series reflects this. Much like Joss Whedon's Buffy or J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter, the fantastic elements of the series reinforce the realness of the world, rather than detract from it. For example, bending is not an inherently known skill, but rather benders must train and hone their skills. How people approach their training informs how they will use their skills (compare Aang, who is a reluctant fighter, with Zhao, a firebending soldier with little control over his skills and less desire to achieve control).

Avatar examined a lot of things that are relevant in our world but were presented in fantastic ways in the series. Similar to The Wire (though nowhere near as deep, gritty, or realistic, obviously), Avatar examined the "everything is connected" statement. The world of Avatar is divided into four nations: the Water Tribes, the Earth Kingdom, the Fire Nation, and the Air Nomads. Each nation produces people who can bend their nation's element (not everyone is a bender, though), and each has its own culture and sub-cultures (for example, the Earth Kingdom capital city of Ba Sing Se has a metropolitan culture, while the island of Kyoshi in the Earth Kingdom has its own culture, based on the teachings of Kyoshi, a previous Avatar). Yet, the four nations are all part of the same world, and what happens in one can have drastic effects on the others. The most drastic example came in the Season 1 finale. Without going into specifics, the aforementioned Admiral Zhao tried to strike a blow to the Water Tribes that would likely have destroyed the world had he succeeded. His short-sightedness and desire for victory at any cost blinded him to the fact that his plan involved fundamentally altering the way the world operated.

Another example, which isn't explicitly stated in the series, but was addressed by the creators, has to do with one reason why the Fire Nation started the war that is at the center of the series. The Fire Nation is much more technologically advanced than the other three. The creators noted that it was experiencing a kind of industrial revolution; whereas the other three nations were still using wood ships powered by wind, the Fire Nation had created iron ships powered by coal. They developed tanks and other weapons of war with which the other three nations could barely compete. But the Fire Nation isn't that big, and most of its land is volcanic, so it needed resources. The Fire Nation believed that its needs justified a war, and in the process of acquiring more resources, people's lives were torn apart. A shortage of resources in one place led to catastrophic consequences elsewhere.

But as the years went on (the war had been going on for nearly 100 years by the time the series started), another justification was needed for the war, which brings me to another thing the series portrayed: motivation. The Fire Nation created an extensive propaganda campaign to convince its citizens that the culture of the Fire Nation was superior to that of the other nations, and that the purpose of the war was to "enlighten" the other nations. Of course, this created a strong backlash against the Fire Nation in the other nations (another example of connections and how every action has an equal and opposite reaction), and many, including lead characters Katara and Sokka, saw the Fire Nation as nothing but evil. Their history with the war motivated them to join Aang in his quest to take down the Fire Nation. Toph, another of Aang's companions, had never been affected by the war, but chose to join him in response to her oppressive home life. Two of my favorite characters, Zuko and Iroh, are Fire Nation royalty, and their stories may be the best in the series. Zuko is the exiled prince of the Fire Nation and Iroh is his uncle. Zuko begins by desiring nothing but to capture the Avatar, hoping that doing so will allow him to return home and "restore his honor," but as time goes on he is affected by the world around him, including Iroh. Iroh is a former general (among other things) who has grown tired of fighting and
joined his nephew in exile. Various tragedies in his past have brought Iroh to where he is as the series begins, and his outlook on life and the world, much different than those of Zuko, help guide their journey.

One of my favorite things the series did was humanize the citizens of the Fire Nation, many of whom didn't know better and were treated just as poorly by the Fire Nation army as was "the enemy." The series made sure to remind us that not everyone in an aggressor nation agrees with the aggression and is culpable (see also Persepolis). On the other hand, another character I really enjoy watching, Princess Azula, deserves all of the anger and hatred directed at the Fire Nation. I'm kind of shocked that the creators were allowed to include a psychopath like her into a "kids show" (on the other hand, her violence was strongly tempered). She is manipulative, unfeeling, and calculating. She lusts for power, and does everything to please her father, in hopes that she will one day ascend to the throne of the Fire Nation.

As I've said, even though this is a kids show on the surface, it has depths unheard of in most shows aimed at children. In many ways, it's almost Pixar-worthy (but not quite). The themes are very relevant to our world, and the characters are fleshed out and "real."

Up next: Welcome to 1965...

Avatar: The Last Airbender: Elements of a Great Series

For the most part, anime has a bad reputation in the United States, mostly because most people are only aware of things like Pokemon and Sailor Moon, which are aimed at children. I have mostly bought into this idea, and getting me to watch anime is like pulling teeth. I had to be convinced for years that I'd enjoy Cowboy Bebop before I actually gave it a chance (and loved it). Avatar: The Last Airbender wasn't made in Japan and imported to the U.S., but it was drawn in the style of anime. That was its first strike against it. The second was that it was on Nickelodeon. And third, it was a "kids show." So with three strikes against it, how did I ever get to watching it? Surprisingly, it took the release of a (reportedly) terrible movie, The Last Airbender. The film adaptation of the series was universally panned by critics, who all said the same things: the lighting and effects were terrible, the acting was bad, and it was a sorry adaptation of a great series. I soon learned that a few of my friends love the show, so I decided to give it a chance. I'm so happy I did.

Like me, many people are skeptical of the show. I tell them that Avatar* is like the Harry Potter of television. Like the book series, Avatar is marketed towards kids, but has many adult elements. It deals with the harshness of war, including the loss of loved ones that results, the demonization of the enemy, genocide, and the weight of responsibility. The characters are very well developed, and keep their personality traits from episode to episode, rather than changing to fit the plot. I was genuinely surprised with the depth and maturity of the events and characters.

The three seasons tell one grand narrative, with a planned beginning, middle, and end. Also, each season tells a smaller story, detailing a part of Aang's, the lead character, journey to become the Avatar, the spirit of the planet manifested in human form. Much like the Harry Potter series, in which each book told a complete story that fit into a grander narrative, the three seasons of the series tell complete but interdependent stories (they also have a "Star Wars original trilogy" vibe to them). And, also like the Potter stories, the characters grow naturally as the show progresses. People develop their fighting abilities, grow as individuals (one character began the show as a sexist who bought into traditional gender stereotypes, but lost these views as he became more exposed to the world), and reassess their worldviews in light of the journeys they take to places outside their homelands.

Up next: A world out of balance...

*For the sake of brevity, I will refer to the show as Avatar instead of typing out its full title each time. Please do not get confused and think I am talking about that fucking smurf movie; you will not find any praise for that film here.

The Walking Dead: Life After Death

AMC is on a roll. Of their four original series, three of them are absolutely amazing (I haven't seen Rubicon yet, and I intend to watch the first, and now only, season, despite its cancellation; also, I plan on going over Mad Men's fourth season and discussing Breaking Bad at some point). Their newest, The Walking Dead, is the first one that is based on an existing work, Robert Kirkman's comic book series of the same name. Only three episodes have aired so far, so this will be more of a primer than an analysis.

The show, much like its comic book origins, is about a small band of people living together in the wake of a zombie-pocalypse. And both the series and the comic have the same statement to make: even in the wake of a terrible tragedy that changes our very way of life, people will still be people. We will still be capable of great heroism and selflessness, but we will also still be capable of horrible acts. Racism, mistrust, and greed will all still exist, and they may actually be ratcheted up by the dire circumstances. When your survival depends upon being extremely careful and well-armed, you might not be willing to give a stranger the benefit of the doubt when they ask you for help. They may be trying to take something valuable from you to save themselves. On the other hand, strength in numbers has never mattered more, so wouldn't mutual trust and help benefit everyone?

So far, the show has been fantastic in pretty much every aspect. The actors are strong, the zombie effects are amazing, and the storytelling and direction have been incredible. The stairwell scene in the pilot is one of the most terrifying things I've ever seen (and if you've seen it, you know how much that matters, based on what happens... and what doesn't).

Anyway, I don't want to say too much else, so enjoy the real and fan-made opening credits:





Up next: Avatar state! Yip yip...

The Wire: Everything Is Connected

One thing The Wire does better than almost any other show out there* is show us how absolutely everything in Baltimore is connected; the fate of one institution or group has a ripple effect that impacts other institutions and groups. For example, a rivalry between a high-ranking police officer and a stevedores union official (having to do with a stained glass window in a church) has an impact on the drug trade because the dock workers are involved in bringing drugs into the city from abroad. Furthermore, the show points out how poor decisions high places, such as police command or city hall, can trickle down and affect the people who are supposed to be protected by the decision makers.

The former notion, that everything is interdependent upon everything else, is a very real concept. Although I hate to put things in such crude terms, when running a city, many things comes down to money, and when you shift money to one place, it is inherently shifted away from somewhere else. In addition, institutions are run by people who form relationships, and depending on how people interact, certain institutions may get more or less favorable treatment. Along those lines, politics and elections matter more than they should. Politicians desire to stay in their elected offices, so they might not make the same decisions in an election year as they would as newly elected or lame duck officers. For example, contrast the difference in Judge Phelan's attitude towards the Barksdale investigation in Season 1; in the series pilot, when McNulty tells Phelan about the reach of the Barksdale drug ring and the possibility of bringing them down, Phelan readily gets behind the idea. However, a few months later, when Phelan is up for reelection (he is a state judge rather than a federal judge), his support nearly disappears until he wins. As many elements of a police investigation are dependent upon court permission, this considerably hinders the investigation.

The police depend on the courts for essential parts of their investigation. The drug trade relies upon the dock workers to help import drugs into Baltimore. The dock workers, who are hurting due to the dwindling shipping trade and advent of machines that make them obsolete, depend on the drug trade to get them money on the side. The police need city hall for money, city hall needs "results" from the police department to keep incumbents in power. And things have become so ingrained that any attempt to make a positive change ultimately fails. As detailed in my last post, Colvin and Carcetti both tried to change the way things were done, only to be met with resistance.

The second point, about poor decisions in the conference rooms of city hall and police command have consequences on the streets is very cynical (as is most of the show), but The Wire very effectively illustrates how this can often happen. To go back to the Hamsterdam example, instead of using the whole experiment as a wake-up call about the ineffectiveness of bust-by-bust policing and viewing the drug problem as a "war," the department fired one of their most forward-thinking, reasonable, and honest commanders and brought back the status quo of putting dealers on every corner, causing innocent civilians to live in fear. Or look at the police station's preference to hold press conferences, complete with "dope on the damn table," rather than keep a low profile and continue investigations. When a task force seized a large amount of drugs and money from the lieutenant of a kingpin they were trying to capture due to information gained from a wiretap, command wanted to hit other "stash houses" turned up by the wire so that they could hold a press conference with all of the captured drugs in an attempt to show the public how good of a job they were doing. Never mind that doing so would potentially tip off the dealers as to the existence of the wire tap.

The Wire is more than a "cop" show. It's a show about a city, and is probably the most effective show ever produced about just how connected we are to each other, regardless of who we are, how much money we make, or what we do.

Up next: Death becomes them...

*Contrast this with Dexter for example. This write-up of a Season 5 episode explains that the plot point about how backlash against the police station in the press is hardly a threat because the show does not spend any time exploring the press or how the backlash affects the police department.