A Case for Animation — Avatar: The Last Airbender

-Mukisa Mujulizi

---

It has been magical, to witness the number of folks who have something meaningful to say about this show. Which, for all intents and purposes, was made as a kids show on Nickelodeon, yet has found such a following among audiences of all ages since its release in 2005. Its main storyline is so beautifully and succinctly summarized in the show’s opening credits that I will not do you the disservice of repeating it rather limply here. What I will say is that despite its somewhat rocky start, that sees the main characters going on adventures of the day, Avatar slowly develops into what I rarely call a masterpiece. The reason I rarely call art (television, film, music, paintings etc.) masterpieces, outside of my knowledge that I simply do not know enough, is that in order for a show to meet that category, it has to be perfect on more than one front. Avatar: the Last Airbender (ATLA) is arguably perfect on every single metric one could use to evaluate a piece of television.

The show has an astonishing and unique art style that lends itself perfectly to the world and setting in which the characters find themselves. Considering this is a show about mastering all the elements; Water, Earth, Air, & Fire, ATLA demands a level of flexibility for its characters that its live-action counterparts have failed to capture. The humorous reactions are allowed to be large and goofy, portraying that childlike sensibility for laughter. In contrast, its more emotional beats are designed as a perfect counterbalance to the slapstick comedy we become accustomed to. Such that one might feel betrayed by the show for giving it your trust that it’s going to be a rather lighthearted experience, only to immediately pull you back into its emotional center. Yes, this is a kids show, but children (and arguably adults) need to be actively taught how to experience and deal with these emotions.

Instead of trying to summarize 61 episodes of the show, I thought it best to explore an episode that I believe captured ATLA’s essence around the midpoint of the first season. ‘Episode 12: The storm’ is for me, the episode that declared this show as one of the greats. The episodes prior do an impressive job of situating the audience in the world of the show, giving us a lens into the characters, their quirks, how they respond to different people and settings etc. But ‘The Storm’ is where the show affirmed its emotional fulcrum. It begins where we usually do by this point, with Aang (12 years old, by the way) and his crew (Katara, Sokka, and Appa: GREAT names by the way) looking for food and money on their journey, with Prince Zuko (16 years old), and Uncle Iroh, continuing with their mission to capture Aang.

Again, a very typical ATLA episode. But it becomes immediately clear that this episode, in both structure and emotion, is not like the others. Like a Yin-Yang, forces which represent these seemingly opposite cosmic principles, that push and pull one another, Aang and Zuko’s backstories are simultaneously revealed to the characters and we the audience. The scenes literally follow one another, building on each other, and this play in structure reveals the tensions within and between Aang and Zuko. Following a recurring nightmare, Aang is faced with a fisherman that recognizes him as the Avatar, and immediately scorns him for running away. The fisherman laments him for failing the people of the world and shirking his responsibility. What was once an anxious dream has now been confirmed by a stranger living in the aftermath of Aang’s disappearance. Simultaneously, Zuko is scolded by his ship crew, who see him as a spoiled prince who shows a “lack of respect”. Something which we later learn, is his father’s reason for banishing him and forcing him on this journey.

Very quickly then, both boys are forced to relive a dark moment in their lives. Aang’s backstory reveals he ran away from his temple because they believed the responsibilities of an Avatar deserved a stricter hand than the soft care his mentor was giving him. Thus, pulling him away from the only love and safety he had known, and thrusting him towards a dangerous unknown. Zuko’s backstory reveals his desire for more responsibility that emerged as the answer to his woes about his father’s lack of love and attention. Aang had known nothing but love and ran away before that could be taken from him. Zuko had never known love (at least from his father) and sought after it in rather reckless ways. In both instances then, the boys faced a darker truth; that actions have consequences which will be faced, regardless of your active participation in them.

The consequences Zuko faced took the form of direct physical violence from his father, who said “You will learn respect, and suffering will be your teacher” right before burning his son’s face. The scar on Zuko’s face, finally contextualized in this manner, takes on a far greater meaning. The only way he can regain his ‘honor’ and return home is by capturing the Avatar. And I think for Zuko, capturing the Avatar is no longer just about regaining his father’s respect, but also about healing the scar. This scar exists on his face as a representative of the damage he believes is self-inflicted, and the only way to rid of that damage is in the capture of Aang. Aang’s consequences, are far greater, as we learn of the genocide of his people, hence, “The Last Airbender”, alongside the tyrannical rule of the Fire Nation over the world. So, while Aang doesn’t have a physical scar to remind him of his actions, the people of every town and tribe they visit, and the dire straits they find themselves in, are all weighing on his conscience.

The primary message of this episode which is represented in the failures of ‘authority’ towards children, and the love of individual adults, is explored throughout the show to a greater scale. For Zuko, his father, and the Fire Nation writ large, exists as this ruthless, violent system that demands that same ruthlessness and violence, or one will be ostracized. I think the most heartbreaking truth of the show is how long it takes Zuko to recognize that his uncle, Iroh, who has been by his side throughout, has been trying, to an almost exhausting degree, to get Zuko to see and love himself. Within Iroh, exists the same love and affection that Aang received from his mentor, yet Zuko is seemingly incapable of accepting this, and the brilliance of the show is exploring how he overcomes this. For Aang, the love he was shown from his mentor was to be taken away from him by the very council he respected. However, it was in learning about the ‘hope’ he represented to the world, and the love he could share, with his friends and those communities he encountered, that Aang grew to accept his fate. And I believe the way Aang conducted himself throughout, even to the final episode, was reflective of the love he would’ve received had his mentor still been alive.

The episode ends with a climax of Zuko finally learning to think outside of anger and his narrow view of capturing the Avatar and regains the respect of his crew by saving one of them and steering the ship out of danger. For Aang, he is forced to relive his moments under water before freezing himself in ice. Only this time, his crew are with him, and instead of running away, or freezing them, he manages the get them safely out of the water. And I think this moment, for both, serves as a glimmer of hope that they are willing and able to learn from their past mistakes. But there are also about 50 episodes of television following this, so this is by no means a resolution. Rather, it exists as a way to highlight that growth is not a linear path. Aang and Zuko relapse, rather often, but they do grow. And that message, whether it’s to kids or adults is one worth engaging.

To then witness these two stories of children whose destinies were thrust upon them through no choice of their own, is to confront one’s own path. Whether a child or adult watching this show, you are constantly confronted by philosophical questions about the meaning of life, the purpose we may have, the love and care of friendship and the importance of being a kid when the time demands it. There are themes of parenting, of loss, anxiety, identity etc., all of which force us to confront our lived reality. To avoid this show because “it was made for kids” is to lose touch with a very important part of yourself. That childlike wonder, and desire are flames that need to be tended to. Because to lose that flame is to lose a very important facet of life. I believe that Avatar: the Last Airbender can reignite that flame, but only if you give it the chance.