Friday, March 14, 2014

The Hidden Themes of Avatar


As a kid, my most favorite TV show was Avatar: The Last Airbender. I love the creativity of it – the characters, the world, the conflicts. The very idea of people who could manipulate the four elements (water, air, earth, fire) appealed to my youthful imagination. And at the center of it all is Aang, the upbeat young protagonist with the burden of being master of all four elements as well as the last of the airbenders. However, despite his great responsibility, he always finds some way to be hilarious or ridiculous, impressing everyone with his fun-loving personality. Now that I’m older, though, I realize that Avatar is an incredibly mature show. It delves into dark, sometimes morbid subjects that kids’ shows seldom address. As a child, it was just a fun cartoon for me to watch, but now I realize how influential it was in forming my world view. Kids’ shows never touch serious issues, but The Last Airbender proves that it can be done, and done in such a way as to keep the show entertaining while still touching upon the important points that make viewers stop and think.

Mature themes are pervasive throughout the series, starting in the very first episode. The show begins with Sokka and Katara, a relatable brother and sister pair, out fishing to help feed the water tribe, when they unexpectedly stumble across the lost Avatar Aang, who had been frozen in an iceberg. In their conversations, it’s revealed that Sokka and Katara’s dad is away fighting a war against the fire nation, and their mom has been taken and sold by the fire nation. Later, fire nation prince Zuko visits the water tribe searching for Aang, and he treats the people as less than human, shoving them around, grabbing them, and yelling at them as he demands tribute. On the surface, this is pretty standard stuff— introduce some downtrodden child heroes and establish a main antagonist—but so much more exists beneath the surface. Look closely: in the first two episodes, the show has already included aspects of poverty, war, racism, imperialism, slavery, and human trafficking.

This pattern continues for the whole series. For instance, genocide is addressed when Aang discovers the ruined air temples. Then, sexism is touched-upon when Katara tries to learn to fight, an activity which society considers inappropriate for a girl. The creators masterfully blend these mature nuances throughout the plotline of the entire show. The amazing part is that they do it so subtly at times. The show never tells anyone how to think, or overtly states the moral of the story. Characters simply face situations in which they must make tough moral choices, and viewers are invited to watch the outcomes.

All that being said, the most interesting thing about Avatar: The Last Airbender is the way in which the creators approach the concept of good and evil. It’s so easy to create a show with a well-defined “good” and “bad” side; but in Avatar, this line is intentionally blurred. Characters who are initially heroic can be revealed as immoral, and vice-versa. For example: after the first episode, it’s easy to think of Zuko as the main antagonist. However, it’s quickly revealed that he is a lost soul with a troubled past, who needs to make hard decisions about his future. In this way, Zuko becomes more than a typical villain; instead, he is another main character who people can become emotionally invested in.

The same is true with the four nations. For instance, the creators purposefully cause mental dissonance for people who think of the fire nation as a ubiquitous evil. Some of the kindest characters, like Iroh, come from the fire nation. Then, in season three, when they enter the fire nation, it’s revealed to be much more than just Bowser’s Castle. It’s a nation made up of individuals who are just as human and good-natured as those on the outside. Conversely, the show goes out of its way to reveal unfairness and corruption in the societies of each of the other three nations as well. The Northern Water Tribe turns out to have restrictive gender roles for women. The earth kingdom capital turns out to be a police state headed by a corrupt advisor and a puppet king. Even the air nomads have flawed institutions. This approach is really neat because it never dehumanizes anyone; no group is just an evil target, and no group is a flawless force for good. All factions in this world have character, and they are just as flawed as the people who compose them.

Truthfully, I could go on about this show for a while, but I couldn’t do it justice. I highly recommend watching it, both for parents and kids. It’s a mature show with some really morbid topics, but it isn’t done to be funny, or satirical, or ironic. Everything is simply put out there, and in truth, it proves that kids can handle thinking about such things. Watching Aang struggle with his powers or Zuko trying to redeem himself, makes us consider them more deeply than we would for other TV show characters. Avatar: The Last Airbender achieves something seldom reached in children’s television: it invites us to look past the surface and to really try to understand the characters and powers at work in the world, and by extension, it forces us to examine our own as well.