by Michael Dante DiMartino, Irene Koh, Vivian Ng, Marissa Louise & Nate Piekos Avatar: The Last Airbender reviews: one | two The Legend of Korra reviews: one | two | three
The conclusion of Turf Wars pulls itself together and delivers an exciting ending, but it can’t fully make up for the story’s weaknesses.
Listen, if you’re here for Korrasami (Korra and Asami’s relationship) and only Korrasami, you’re going to love this – and there is nothing wrong with that. It’s wonderful and gratifying to see them actually have a relationship even if it’s outside the official series. The downsides of the story certainly don’t cancel that out…
…but because so much of the story doesn’t have room to breathe, Korra and Asami’s relationship feels similarly cramped. So much in Turf Wars deserved more – Tokuga’s half-baked development (along with all the other new characters), the rushed ending, the implications of a new spirit portal; not to mention the huge cast, most of whom spends a majority of time in the background. And yes, Korrasami deserved more too: while we get a lovely scene with them at the end, they spend most of this volume apart. The ending scene is convincing because of the three seasons of the show, not this last arc – so in a sense, it falls flat.
There’s still a whole lot of good here – Zhu Li takes center stage as candidate for president, and she demonstrates an innate political ability to do the right thing, but also ham it up for the cameras. (I hope she doesn’t retreat into the background next time.) Also, Bolin shows some promise as he leaves the force; Mako finally overcomes the weirdness of his exes dating each other; and there’s some great banter between Tenzin and Korra.
Koh, Ng and Louise’s art remains hit or miss. Some panels look like they’ve been taken straight from the series – and the colors also really help with that. But others look disproportionate or rushed. I complained about Varrick last time, and here his design is completely different. (Also, the cover is so busy and at the same time uninspired.)
So far, Korra’s comic book adaptation is like a raindrop in a desert. It’s doing so much good and trying to do so much in very few pages. Whether or not I keep reading really depends on how much I’m willing to put up with that.
by Michael Dante DiMartino, Irene Koh, Vivian Ng, & Nate Piekos Avatar: The Last Airbender reviews: one | two The Legend of Korra reviews: one | two | three
The second installment of Turf Wars feels like a classic in between volume – and that isn’t a compliment. The original Avatar series was a master at episodes that took their time, focused on character development, and slowly wove into the bigger picture (episodes that introduced Jet and Bumi come to mind) – but still stood up well on their own as singular episodes.
Unfortunately, this book jammed a whole bunch of table setting into a too-short volume that barely has time to breathe. Korra has triple the cast as Avatar, and the story bowed under its weight; while the dialogue and characters remain strong, there’s very little development apart from Korra and Asami – and unfortunately even that is slight – and Zhu Li, who has a very interesting new direction.
Korra’s villains always had trouble in the three-dimensionality department, but they all had some philosophical grounding, usually a radical redistribution of power. Tokuga is a new low – his plans for Republic City domination have no rhyme or reason, and while his corrupted body makes for an interesting visual, it hasn’t made him any more interesting.
Two other characters (and I miiight get skewered by this) who seem directionless are Bolin and Mako. They’re now police officers and partners, and their banter is always their strongest dialogue. But I don’t see any meaningful direction for these characters. While there are some third-string folks like Ikki who I don’t expect it from, these two deserve better. (I was also hoping for more Kya.)
Irene Koh is a great match for Korra, but some panels felt rushed and unfinished. This felt doubly strange since the volume was too short. Varrick especially looked strange, like his head was too big for his body. Because the story is rushed, it also feels like the art doesn’t give us the time to stop and enjoy living in Korra’s world. (Also, why can’t she illustrate the covers? This one is so uninspired.)
There’s no reason why this volume couldn’t have been twice as long. While I have issues with both series’ comics, Korra’s issues are far more frustrating – but Korrasami is what will keep me coming back…for now.
by Gene Luen Yang, Gurihiru, Bryan Konietzko & Michael Dante DiMartino collects Avatar: The Search parts 1-3 Avatar: The Last Airbender reviews: one | two The Legend of Korra reviews: one | two
Spoilers ahead!
Aang and crew’s post-series journey continues, this time picking up the huge question left off from the series finale: what happened to Zuko’s mother, Ursa?
But what I really want to know is WHERE. IS. MY. TOPH.
One of several disappointments of the book was excluding Toph completely – granted, she would have been one too many with Azula, but that doesn’t mean I have to be happy about it.
The Search reveals all the answers to Ursa’s past and gives Zuko a whole lot of attention to his family dynamic – does therapy exist in Avatar’s world? This poor kid could sure use some. But in the end, Ursa’s story was too simplistic, with disappointing spirit world deus-ex-machina, and no real focus on developing Ursa’s character as an individual.
Ursa makes virtually no decisions by and for herself, and she is constantly defined by one or more men in her life: her grandfather Roku, Ikem, father in law Azulon, husband Ozai, and her son Zuko, whose growth is the real point of the story. I’m not saying men should have been completely absent from her story; rather, she should have done something not informed by her relationship towards one or more men. Ursa also has a lukewarm personality, a byproduct of this issue – I can’t name any of Ursa’s traits that were passed down to Zuko or Azula.
spoiler-y examples in this paragraph. Specifically, Ursa should have done something other than pine for Ikem and be victim to Ozai’s cruelty during their marriage. What if she had used her status to undermine Ozai’s radical, hateful rule – like leading a rebellion as the Blue Spirit, conspiring with Iroh and the White Lotus, or like her son, searching for the Avatar to end the war? She could have done something after leaving the palace and before reuniting with Ikem. This would have shown us more of who Ursa is, separate from her partners and children, and tied her legacy to her grandfather, Avatar Roku, as well as Zuko. Instead, Ursa never looks beyond her own victimization in order to help others – part of Zuko’s growth I once assumed came from his mother – and instead she remains paralyzed by fear of Ozai’s wrath, and chooses to forget her old life, which was passive and cowardly (at least she admits that). As a survivor of abuse (it’s hinted at being more than just emotional), Ursa’s choice to wipe her memory is even more troubling in today’s climate. – the story was written in 2014, and I wonder how things might have been different if it was written after the #MeToo movement – or, frankly, if a woman had written the story. In the end, Ursa is handed a happy ending, without doing much or facing harsh consequences, she’s essentially unchanged – because Ursa’s story is really about Zuko’s growth, not Ursa’s.
spoilers continue. Doubly tragic is Azula’s treatment. Even though she’s the catalyst for Zuko’s journey to find Ursa, she never actually meets their mother (with Ursa’s memory intact). Yang robs Azula of the opportunity for her own healing, understanding her relationship with her mother, and to a lesser extent, redemption with Zuko. Like Ursa, Azula remains unchanged, and Aang betrays Yang’s priorities when he says repeatedly this story is about “a mother and son,” not a mother and daughter. Azula is a fun villain, but not giving her any chance for growth and change (which can occur without losing her villain status) makes her a nuisance and obstacle in the story – a really disappointing choice.
So my major complaint from the last book still stands: the growth and character development of women is still not important in Avatar. Toph, Katara, and Azula remain stagnant (or not present at all) in this book. I’ve mentioned everyone else so I’ll just add here that Katara could have had an interesting moment connecting with Zuko, as she also lost her mom – this was a major connection between the two in the series. But instead, she is relegated to “Sokka’s sister” in a B-plot whose connection to the main story was very on the nose. And before you say it, Legend of Korra is separate and doesn’t give Avatar the right to ignore the women in its series.
Otherwise, there are plenty of small references and explanations in Ursa’s flashbacks – most importantly the Blue Spirit mask – and the director’s cut describes the intense collaboration between all of them. There is a lot of love and reverence for Avatar here coming from Yang and Gurihiru, and it shows. Unfortunately, that love seems firmly invested in Zuko, Aang, and world building elements – the rest, including Ursa, is window dressing.
Guihiru’s art continues to shine, and I especially loved how the panels are laid out during “the deal” between Ursa and Ozai. Their anime style is a natural fit for the series. Unfortunately, while Gurihiru does the best they can, bending loses some of its kinetic magic in still frames.
Continuing this series won’t make you love Avatar any less, and it’s a great salve for those hungry for more adventures post-series. But I will admit, unlike Korra’s series, it isn’t making me love Avatar any more.
by G. Willow Wilson & Christian Ward collects Invisible Kingdom #6-10 volume reviews one | two
Wilson and Ward’s interstellar space opera continues in volume two. Its first arc combined interesting world-building with progressive characters and Ward’s phenomenal, Eisner Award-nominated art, but it was also bogged down by on-the-nose metaphors of Big Business (Lux) and Religion (The Renunciation).
This second chapter largely deals with fallout from last volume, as banished nun Vess and space captian Grix deal with the consequences of their choices – leaving the Renunciation and exposing Lux’s corruption, respectively. While on the run, Grix and her Sundog crew encounter a space pirate named Captain Turo, who only adds to their problems.
Christian Ward’s art continues to be the highlight of the book. Even though some panels feel unfocused or unfinished, his bold colors and character designs really lend themselves to science fiction. He does the heavy lifting of world building, which is critical in a successful sci-fi story.
However, Wilson’s writing continues to weigh things down. While the metaphors have retreated into the background (for now), the story slows down to a snail’s pace once Turo takes over the Sundog. Not only are we stuck in space, but the Lux/Renunication plot doesn’t move forward until the very end.
It’s even more frustrating that, while it’s amazing to see queer women take the lead in a sci-fi book (even though Grix fits the personality of every space captain), there is barely any character development. I can’t describe Vess’ personality beyond her commitment to a religion that betrayed her, and the other crew members, while recognizable, are barely given any attention.
spoilers this paragraph. There’s also a romance element that has, for me at least, no emotional investment, which is tough when it involves the two protagonists. There’s no clear understanding what Grix sees in Vess and vice versa, especially when Vess’ character isn’t explored. While Invisible Kingdom is science fiction genre first, it’s frustrating to not have any reason to cheer for a romance that will clearly be a bigger part of the story moving forward.
I’ve heard this will be a three part trilogy, and frankly, the fact that there’s one more volume is probably the only reason I’ll read it at this point. (I’m kind of shocked if that’s the case, why this book spent so much time in one place, with both characters and story.) I’m more looking forward to seeing what Ward will create for a climactic ending more than anything else – and perhaps Wilson can turn things around. But the latter looks far more bleak going into the finale.
by Michael Dante DiMartino, Irene Koh, Vivian Ng, & Nate Piekos Avatar: The Last Airbender reviews: one | two The Legend of Korra reviews: one | two | three
*series spoilers for Avatar: The Last Airbender and Legend of Korra*
After rewatching Avatar: The Last Airbender and finally seeing Legend of Korra this summer, I was thrilled that her story continues in comic book form. This is a must read for anyone who was a fan of the series.
Korra was a more modern mature sequel series to Avatar, and regardless of which one you prefer overall, Korra took more chances on darker themes like trauma, complicated villains, and more romantic relationships. Korra and Asami’s relationship deepened throughout the entire series, but romantic feelings between the two were almost but not certainly confirmed when they held hands entering the spirit portal in the show’s closing seconds. (The creators since confirmed it was meant to signify a romantic relationship.) For 2014, this was still a big deal – and it helped pave the way for queer representation in animated shows like Adventure Time, Steven Universe, and most significantly, the She-Ra reboot.
Thankfully, volume one picks up moments after series finale…and I really wish we had another season to actually see Korra and Asami’s vacation and officially, finally, becoming a couple! It’s an adorable and genuine moment, and as they share how their feelings progressed, and now decide when and how to tell their community, feels very true to the characters. As a couple, they challenge and complement each other beautifully. And it’s so powerful to see them celebrated and accepted by mentors and friends, while also navigating the real possibility that the wider world might not be as accepting. (A mix of optimism and reality for today’s LGBTQ+ kids and teens.) And it’s important that Korra and Asami are central protagonists, not minor characters simply included for diversity’s sake.
It’s a shame that we couldn’t see this in the official series, but it’s also so, so wonderful to still see this next chapter – and not just in fanfiction, but as an official part of Legend of Korra.
spoilers this paragraph. We also learn that another character has been queer all along – Tenzin’s sister (and Aang and Katara’s daughter), Kya! YAY! Of course she figures it out right away; she congratulates Korra and Asami and even shares with them (and the reader) a short LGBTQ history in the Four Nations. (Also, Avatar Kyoshi was bi or pan? I believe it.) I can’t wait to see Kya take a greater role in the comics as a mentor to Korra and Asami – and maybe she has a partner and family we’ve never met too!
There is SO much to celebrate, even though there’s some bitterness that we’ll never see this in animation. At the very least, the first volume is written by one of Korra’s co-creators, Michael Dante DiMartino, so Korra/Asami as well as the wider story (more on that in a moment) is fully in line with the show. The dialogue, pacing and story is a pure distillation of the series – if you’re a fan, you’ll find everything you miss from Korra here. (And if you haven’t seen Korra yet, you have to watch the show before reading this.)
Irene Koh’s pencils are a little bit rougher than the very polished art on the show, but she still stays true to the show’s style and especially characters’ expressions. Frightened passersby, surprised gang members and others have reactions and expressions drawn right from the show, and Koh also utilizes multiple frames to show the movement of bending (there’s a cool one for Bolin’s lava bending). Koh also goes into new territory with Korra and Asami – and their tender looks towards each other are beautiful and almost delicate. Vivian Ng’s color palette is also spot on with the show, together the art feels like storyboards pulled directly from production.
While most of the volume establishes Korra and Asami as a couple, it’s remarkable how much DiMartino and Koh fit into 76 pages. In avbout the same pages as two issues, the team sets up a lot of issues, storylines, and new characters, including:
– New gangs and their leader Tokuga (who looks a lot like Sokka) – Desperate evacuees from Kuvira’s destruction in Republic City (Zhu Li ftw!) – Businessman Wonyong owns the land around the spirit portal wants to turn it into an amusement park, setting off angry spirits, some of whom are already unhappy with a new portal – Bolin is now a cop and Mako’s partner! – President Raiko is only focused on re-election instead of the issues going on in Republic City
This is a lot, and we’re reunited with most of Korra’s sprawling cast at the same time. DiMartino fits it all in admirably, and it’s nice to see that corrupt businessmen and politicians are still just as important to the world’s landscape as fun bending and villains. But overall, it may have been too many things packed into less than 100 pages – we don’t spend more than a few pages on a scene or new character.
If Korra’s graphic novels remain this length, it seems likely that many characters will get the short end of the stick, and it might also be difficult to really get to know the villains. Mako, Bolin, and Tenzin had very minor roles, and there are plenty more who only appeared in the background or had a few lines.
This concerns me a little bit because there’s so much the show didn’t deal with that could be explored in the comics. So many places to revisit outside of Republic City, including the spirit world. Too many relationships weren’t explored enough – we needed more of Tenzin, Kya and Bumi talking through their parent issues. Many characters stayed in the background including Tenzin’s wife Pema, General Iroh and Zuko’s daughter, Fire Lord Izumi. Plus, we never see if Kya and Bumi had families, and what about Sokka (and potentially Suki)’s kids? And there are so many unanswered questions about Korea’s connection to spirit world, and if she’ll ever regain access to her past lives.
Regardless, DiMartino and Koh promise a lot of character and action in this first volume, at the same (or better!) level as the TV series and that’s exactly what I’m looking for – it’s a high bar the two set in very few pages. This isn’t an empty money grab – instead, it’s a fully-fledged season in comic book form, and a labor of love from a creator who clearly loves his characters as much as the fans do. A comic true to the spirit of Korra – that’s more than enough.
Reading Art 