The Legend of Korra’s First Season Would be Perfect if Not for the Final 3 Minutes

2012’s The Legend of Korra, sequel to the critically acclaimed Avatar: The Last Air Bender, is the story of the titular Avatar Korra. Its first season is a wonderful introduction to both its lead character and the steampunk world she resides in. It’s an emotional, action-packed roller-coaster exploring what happens to a society when the power of technology catches up with that of magic. However, what’s most interesting about the story is Korra herself—her personal journey to find her place in a world so different from any past avatar’s.

At her most basic level, Korra is far different from the other Avatars we have seen. By the time she was discovered to be the avatar as a young child, she was already able to waterbend, firebend, and earthbend—and without any kind of training. More than that, her temperament is far removed from the cold, logical Kyoshi or wise and measured Roku. Korra is hot-tempered, bold, and decisive—she’s basically the exact opposite of Aang.

While Aang excelled in air bending and the more spiritual side of being the avatar, these are the aspects that Korra seems unable to grasp. Korra is hands-on and active. Being passive and patient is against her very nature. Moreover, traditional training does little for Korra. She isn’t even able to contact her past selves (the bare minimum of her spiritual powers) until after she’s locked in an isolation chamber for days without anything else to do but meditate.

Even at the climax of the series when Korra and her friend Mako face off against the masked Amon, Korra is unable to airbend. This leads to her defeat at Amons hands and he severs her connection to her bending powers.

However, it’s at this point—the point where she has lost everything that made her the person she is—that she is finally open to a new path. Her need to save Mako from suffering the same fate allows her to finally let go of the pride that was holding her back—the shameless ego in her heart that said she didn’t need to learn airbending or the avatar’s spiritual side to save the world. Thus, she is finally able to connect with her airbending and turn the tables on Amon.

When the battle is done and Amon dead, Korra heads to the South Pole—to see Katara who has over her long life become known as the greatest healer in the world. However, even Katara is unable to heal Korra’s connection to her bending. With this, Korra is left despondent and depressed. How can she be the avatar when all she can do is airbend?

And that is a fantastic narrative question—a question that could be answered over the course of a season. We all know the saying that “with great power comes great responsibility” but now Korra does not have the power—however, the responsibility remains. Seeing her grapple with this and come to accept it—all while mastering airbending—is the seed for a fantastic story. More than that, it has an amazing moral: it doesn’t take a special person to save the world, just a good person giving her all to do the right thing. At the end of this journey, she could well regain her bending over all four elements after learning that it was her personality that made her a hero, not her powers—as a kind of narrative reward for all her personal growth.

Imagine how much better the second season would have been if, while the same basic plot occurred, Korra had been in the midst of her struggle—feeling like she had failed as the avatar. Think how much more vulnerable she would have been to Unalaq, learning that even without her full range of powers she could still master the spiritual side of being the avatar. And in the end, when Korra remakes her connection with Raava, her powers are restored but at the cost of the connection to all her past lives—i.e., a major part of the spiritual side of herself that she had spent the season cultivating.

However, the sad fact is that none of this happens.

Instead, in the closing minutes of the first season, Korra goes off to mope. It’s then that the spirit of Aang and all the past avatars appear to her. The spirit of Aang then simply energy bends her, restoring her powers. Then Korra does the same for everyone else. It’s a deus ex machina happy end for everyone—and one that’s not even a little bit earned.

I wouldn’t go so far as to say that the last minutes of Korra’s first season ruin it—everything that leads up to that point is far too excellent for that. However, they do waste an amazing story hook for a rushed happy end. And, I’m not going to lie, even though I’ve watched (and enjoyed) the first season of The Legend of Korra several times, I always end it feeling disappointed—upset for the awesome story that will never be.

I just wanted to give out a big thanks to Joshua Ott for sponsoring this review with his Patreon donation. (At the $60 a month tier, you are allowed to pick anything up to an including a 13ish episode series to be reviewed–which is released in addition to the one article a week I normally put out here on BiggestinJapan.com.) So thanks again!